BLOG TOUR~~HEART RECAPTURED By Tillie Cole
Title: Heart Recaptured
Series: Hades Hangmen #2
Author: Tillie Cole
Age group: Mature new adult
Genre: MC dark contemporary romance
Release date: 14th December 2014
Even salvation can be delivered through the love of the damned…
Beauty can be a curse.
Faith can be a cage.
Only love can set you free.
A few long weeks after being reluctantly ripped from the comforting embrace of her sacred prophet’s religious commune—the only life she has ever known—a terrified Delilah is thrust into a world enveloped by evil and swimming in sin.
Steadfastly devout in her faith, and retaining the deep belief that her soul is innately tarnished as a branded ‘Cursed woman of Eve,’ Delilah is determined to find her way home to her people in The Order and away from the corrupt and damned outlaw motorcycle club—The Hades Hangmen—who hold her at their secluded compound for her protection—a 'protection' she strongly resents.
Delilah yearns to return home, convinced that only amongst her own people, and under the holy guidance of the Lord’s revealed prophet, can her Satan-spawned soul be truly saved. Conditioned her entire life to believe she is a witch... a life-long temptress… the devil’s whore... Delilah increasingly resents her beautiful face, her shapely body and her sensuous effect on men. But when a man of the motorcycle club—a deeply sinful yet stunningly beautiful man—is charged with her care, Delilah begins to see that this dangerous and moralless sinner from the 'outside' may offer her something she did not know could truly exist: unconditional love.
Kyler ‘Ky’ Willis loves his life: a daily abundance of brotherhood, liquor, the freedom of the open road and—best of all—his pick of hot women. Raised a biker brat and now VP of the most notorious MC in the States, Ky has no shortage of club sluts warming his bed; a situation he takes full advantage of… until a certain blonde enters his life… a gorgeous pilgrim-blonde he can’t get out of his head… a pilgrim-blonde he and his club recently rescued from some backward religious cult… and a pilgrim-blonde he’s been ordered to keep the hell away from and his whorish hands off.
When yet another in a lengthy line of drunken blunders forces Ky to reluctantly take charge of the pilgrim-blonde’s care, he realizes that there could be more to this woman than just supermodel looks and a stacked set of tits. He begins to see that she could be the woman who could do the impossible—tame his wild ways and capture his reluctant heart.
But the unyielding bonds of Lilah’s past are strong, her ‘people’ determined and, with a new Prophet in charge and hell bent on revenge, they are mightily reluctant to let her go...
Another tear trailed down Mae’s cheek. “I have no idea how to make her and Maddie want this life. There is no more commune, no more Order. I am unable to help her… them. What will happen to them if they cannot adjust?” Her huge wolf eyes focused on me as Styx wiped at her cheeks with his thumb, his nose flaring with protectiveness. “I need your help, Ky. Not for you to make this even more difficult. If they left me, I do not know… I do not know…”
Styx turned Mae in his arms and she cried into his chest. His jaw clenched and he glanced in my direction.
Great. He wanted to murder me again.
Running my hands down my face, I jumped to my feet, and Mae lifted her head in surprise.
“I’ll keep the fuck away from Lilah. I swear,” I vowed.
Mae nodded, though her face remained blank. “Thank you.”
But Styx was still looking at me… and I knew that look. He was plotting something. I went to leave the room, when Styx cleared his throat, his infamous take-no-shit look on his face. Styx’s hands lifted to sign behind Mae’s back while her face was still tucked against his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
“Go find Lilah. She’ll be down by the river or in the apartment. It’s the only two places she ever goes. Tell her you’re fuckin’ sorry for practically assaulting her tonight. Right?”
I nodded my agreement rather than say it out loud. He obviously didn’t want Mae to overhear our “conversation.” A lift of his finger made me pause again, and I watched a smirk curl on his lips.
“I’m putting you in charge of her and I ain’t telling Mae. Let’s call it your… atonement for being a whore-assed fuck-up.”
I rolled my eyes at his shit attempt at a joke, but I could tell my brother wasn’t fuckin’ around.
Cutting through the line of trees at the back of the compound, I followed the dirt path through the thick woods and toward the sound of the river. The pilgrim weren’t in Styx’s apartment above the club, and according to Styx, if she weren’t there, she’d be by the river. Hence, despite being fucked off my face, I was trying to go Boy Scout through the woods.
Only for Styx…
It wasn’t long before I heard the rushing of the river and I scoured the grassy verge to see where my favorite piece-of-ass Bible Shaker would be. Stumbling along the river’s edge, I drunkenly kicked stones into the water, when I heard a strange wailing sound. Backing away to skirt along the shadowed line of trees, I quietly made my way toward the sound, grabbing my 9mm from the back of my jeans. The closer I got, the louder the high-pitched whining came.
Clicking off the safety, I burst out of the trees and immediately froze in my steps, my gun pointed at… Lilah?
What. The. Fuck?
Lowering my gun, and tucking it back into the waistband of my jeans, I stared at Lilah flat to the ground, wailing some crazy gibberish shit at an ear-bleeding volume. With a violent jerk of her head, she suddenly began screaming, crying, and throwing her arms in the air, rocking back and forth, mumbling words I couldn’t understand. It sounded like a whole lotta consonants jumbled together.
Complete fuckin’ nonsense.
I’d never seen anything like it in my life.
I stood there like a dumbstruck dick, heart pounding, watching her lose her mind beside the river.
Holy shit, she’d finally snapped. I had made her snap.
Styx was gonna scalp my ass!
Stepping back, I hid under the heavy cover of trees. Call me insane, but I wanted to be well out of sight of this possessive voodoo shit. Slumping to my ass, my back against a tree trunk, I pulled back a branch and just watched her.
The wailing and crying went on for a fuckin’ age. At one point her actions became so unnerving I nearly jumped out to grab her, convinced she was having a damn seizure.
But Lilah’s wails gradually began to dim, her hands lowered, and I realized I’d begun to breathe again. I hadn’t noticed I’d stopped. Taking long, deep breaths, Lilah’s eyes fluttered open; they were red and swollen with all the strain of her crying and the amount of tears she’d shed as she’d kicked and screamed.
I could guess what my face looked like—fucking confused. While I watched her pull herself together, I was sure Viking had slipped me a shroom again without my knowing and I was tripping like a hippie motherfucker at Woodstock, but after what felt like a shittin’ lifetime watching Lilah roll around on the grass, I realized I was copacetic… and Lilah was a full-blown nut job.
AUTHOR BIO - SHORT VERSION
Amazon & USA Today Best Selling Author, Tillie Cole is a Northern girl through and through. She originates from a place called Teesside on that little but awesomely sunny (okay I exaggerate) Isle called Great Britain. She was brought up surrounded by her English rose mother — a farmer’s daughter, her crazy Scottish father, a savagely sarcastic sister and a multitude of rescue animals and horses.
AUTHOR BIO - LONG VERSION
Amazon & USA Today Best Selling Author, Tillie Cole, is a Northern girl through and through. She originates from a place called Teesside on that little but awesomely sunny (okay I exaggerate) Isle called Great Britain. She was brought up surrounded by her English rose mother -- a farmer's daughter, her crazy Scottish father, a savagely sarcastic sister and a multitude of rescue animals and horses.
Being a scary blend of Scottish and English, Tillie embraces both cultures; her English heritage through her love of HP sauce and freshly made Yorkshire Puddings, and her Scottish which is mostly demonstrated by her frighteningly foul-mouthed episodes of pure rage and her much loved dirty jokes.
Having been born and raised as a Teesside Smoggie, Tillie, at age nineteen, moved forty miles north to the 'Toon', Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, where she attended Newcastle University and graduated with a Bachelor of Arts honours degree in Religious Studies. She returned two years later to complete a Post-Graduate Certificate in Teaching High School Social Studies. Tillie, regards Newcastle to be a home from home and enjoyed the Newcastle Geordie way of life for seven 'proper mint' and 'lush' years.
One summers day, after finishing reading her thousandth book on her much loved and treasured Kindle, Tillie turned to her husband and declared, "D'you know, I have a great idea for a story. I could write a book." Several months later, after repeating the same tired line at the close of another completed story, she was scolded by her husband to shut up talking about writing a novel and "just bloody do it!" For the first time in eleven years, Tillie actually took his advice (he is still trying to get over the shock) and immediately set off on a crazy journey, delving deep into her fertile imagination.
Tillie, ever since, has written from the heart. She combines her passion for anything camp and glittery with her love of humour and dark brooding men (most often muscled and tattooed – they’re her weakness!). She also has a serious side (believe it or not!) and loves to immerse herself in the complex study of World Religions, History and Cultural Studies and creates fantasy stories that enable her to thread serious issues and topics into her writing -- yep, there's more to this girl than profanity and sparkles!
After six years of teaching high school Social Studies and following her Professional Rugby Player husband around Europe, they have finally given up their nomadic way of life and settled in Calgary, Alberta where Tillie spends most of her days (and many a late night) lost in a writing euphoria or pursuing a dazzling career as a barrel-racing, tasselled-chap wearing, Stetson-sporting cowgirl... Ye-haw!
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