Sunday, July 2, 2017

The Bailey Boys by PJ Adams






The Bailey Boys: The complete London gangland romance trilogy
PJ Adams
Available June 29, 2017


The Bailey Boys will be on offer at an introductory price of $0.99 for the first few days only.

Synopsis

"He'd never told a girl he loved her before. Not and meant it."

The Bailey Boys. Three brothers. Gentlemen, gangsters, rogues... and not necessarily in that order.

The Bailey Boys. Three steamy, edge-of-the-seat romantic suspense thrillers that take you from the mean streets of London to the violent gangland of Spain's Costa del Crime and back again. Three novels of love, revenge and redemption in a single volume.

Trust
Never trust a man who says, "Trust me." All Jess wanted was a fresh start, but Dean, middle brother of the notorious Bailey Boys, changes everything - if only she could trust him. Love strikes in the most unlikely places, but can it really take root in a London gangland threatened by Russian mobsters?

Hit Me
"I think I love you. Now kill me." What do you do when the woman you've fallen in love with makes the most impossible demand? Comply and you've lost her forever. Refuse and you've lost her all the same...

Ruthless
"Love changes everything. Even for a monster like me." Welcome to the dark and ruthless world of Owen Bailey, retired London gangster with a price on his head. Welcome to the world of Maggie Petrauske, the mysterious young woman who gives him reason to hope. Welcome to a world where maybe even love will not be enough.

"If you love bad boy and a heart felt story you will love this one. There will be love, hurt, and betrayal. Love and friendship will be tested. Who will be left standing?" - Books of Past, Present, and Future
"An awesome storyline with fantastic characters... If you love rough and tough gangster romances with lots of suspense you will love this one. It is a must read book." - Roxie's Romance Reviews

Excerpts

Acting on autopilot, I climbed out, too, brushing fragments of glass off my leather jacket and jeans.
I looked across the roof of Dean’s BMW and saw three of them standing there.
Dean was by no means short – easily six foot, maybe a little more – but the guy with the gun had a good six inches on him. Close-cropped black hair and a long, skull-like face gave him an appearance that would have been intimidating in any circumstances, gun trained on you or not.
Standing at his side was another tall man, and now I saw why Dean had called him ‘Putin’. Tall, with thinning hair and a wide mouth over a shallow chin, he could have passed for the Russian leader.
“Good afternoon, Mr Bailey,” said this man, his English flawless but with a definite East European accent. “How unfortunate for you that a stone appears to have kicked up off the road and chipped your window.”
“Yeah, funny that,” said Dean.
“These things don’t tend to happen if you stick to your own territory,” Putin went on.
“My own territory? I fucking live on this street.”
The man shrugged. “Maybe you should reconsider that,” he said. “Borders move. We Russians know that better than anyone. You would be well advised to learn that lesson, too. Times change, Mr Bailey. Ask your father.”
I was frozen to the spot, watching this unfold before me. Now I managed to look left and then right. Cars passed by at the end of the street, but nobody was nearby – carefully avoiding this exchange, perhaps.
I couldn’t believe I was witnessing this. Out in broad daylight on a London street. Two thugs, at least one of them openly pointing a gun. I remembered the burnt-out pub – Dean had blamed the Eastern Europeans for that, too.
What had I walked into?
Dean glanced across the car at me, then, and said, “Cuppa? I’m treating you.”
Then he casually walked around the car, brushing past the silent Russian with the gun, pressing the button on his key-fob to lock the BMW.
Looking back from the front of the car, he said, “I’ll be seeing you tonight, Putin.”
Then he was at my side, taking my arm, hissing into my ear, “Walk like you own it, darling. Just walk like you fucking own it.”
§
I stood straight, held my head up high, and did my best to walk like I fucking owned it, whatever ‘it’ was.
I fought every temptation to look back, to see if the two Russian gangsters were following us.
“He had a gun!” I kept my voice low, as Dean had done. “He had a fucking gun, Dean.”
“Believe me, I noticed.”
He put a hand on my elbow, slowing me, steering me. We’d come to the front door of an ordinary-looking terraced house; as far as I could see, there was nothing to mark it out as special – as the home of someone whose East End crimelord credentials I was suddenly starting to take very seriously indeed.
He opened the door, guided me inside, pushed the door to behind him, and I collapsed into his arms.
“He had a gun...”
It took me a short time to pull myself together, to stop shaking and gibbering and repeating those words, and all that time he held me, arms strong around me. I realized I was aware of the rise and fall of his ribcage against me, of his aftershave, of his chin resting on the crown of my head as he stroked my hair with one hand and pressed between my shoulder-blades with the other.
That firm pressure on my spine, and the gentle stroking of the hair on the back of my head, did their thing.
My breathing slowed, and eventually my heart stopped trying to escape from my chest.
He moved the hand from the back of my head, and tipped my chin up so that I was looking at him.
His face was close, his breath hot.
His tongue darted across his lips and I thought he was going to...
He pulled away, stepped back, further into the building.
“You fancy that cuppa?” he said.
I nodded, mumbled a thanks. My mind raced – with what had happened in the street outside, with what had nearly happened here, just now.
Had I been waiting for him to kiss me? Had I been wanting it?
And then he’d pulled away, putting a halt on whatever might have been about to happen.
A proper gentleman, of all things.
I followed him along a dark passageway into a kitchen at the back. The interior of the house was crisp and modern, in complete contrast to the slightly shabby Victorian exterior. The kitchen was stainless steel and granite, concealed handles and smooth surfaces, everything in its place. It was either the kitchen of a remarkably tidy person, or someone who never did more than make the occasional cup of tea.
“It’s the adrenaline,” he said, matter-of-factly. “The fear, the fight or flight response, and then, immediately afterwards, your body’s flooded with adrenaline and endorphins and you just want to have sex like wild animals. Nature red in tooth and claw, and all that. You don’t really fancy me – your body just wants to reproduce because it’s been exposed to danger.”
I stared. He was being serious. “You’re right,” I told him. “I don’t fancy you. And I’m certainly not going to shag you just because some Neanderthal’s pointed a gun at me and I’m grateful you rescued my pretty little ass.”
He smiled that disarming smile, defusing the sudden tension, and said, “Sugar?”
I shook my head. And tried not to think too hard about how close I’d come to kissing him on the back of that mad adrenaline rush just now.


What Readers Are Saying

Goodreads and Amazon reader reviews:

“One of my favorite authors comes through with an excellent steamy romance from the London underworld.”
“These books have a bit of everything suspense, betrayal, romance and twist and turns you won't see coming. Great storylines and well-written characters. I really enjoyed them all. Love the Bailey Boys!!”
“If you like the mafia genre, then this is for you. It has suspense, action, steamy romance and some twists to keep it very interesting. You will love the story and how each character comes into play.”
“I read each of these three stories when they first came out and loved them, but having them together as a set is even better. Each has an engaging plot with drama, danger, and suspense. If you love British bad boys and gangsters you will love this series.”
“Great book. Wonderful plot and fantastic characters. A must read.”



Author Info

PJ Adams is a bestselling writer of erotic romance and suspense - love stories with that added heat and adventure. Her most popular titles include Damage and Trust. Writing under other names, PJ is a successful novelist, with several books published by major publishing houses and optioned for movies.

Find out more about PJ:
Web and mailing list: http://www.pollyjadams.com




Links

Ebooks available from:
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Paperback available from:




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