Seeing the conflict it created within me when I was forced to say no to my mom when she was being frivolous, Brysen took it upon herself to be the gatekeeper. She flatly informed my mom that any money she was asking for had to be approved by her first before I would hand it over. My girl had a way easier time shutting Lady Hartman down than I did, and the requests were coming fewer and farther between, and when they did come, it was for actual things she couldn’t afford.
I got to the hotel and reluctantly handed over the keys to the Stingray. I didn’t like to let my car out of my sight after the untimely demise of my Stang. I followed Brysen up to the room and grunted in surprise when she jumped me as soon as the door shut behind us. I put a hand under her ass and she climbed up into my arms and started to kiss me all over my face.
“You’re so hot.”
I laughed and walked with her to the bed. I tugged her hands out of my hair and kissed the center of each of her palms. I was happy that doing right by her made her so happy.
“You still want to be the queen of a kingdom that’s a long shot?”
She giggled and narrowed her eyes at me when I shifted my weight so I could dig into my front pocket. I pulled out the cheap little ring I had found in the gift shop when I had been wandering around talking to Nassir about my plan this morning. It was a little gold crown, tacky and completely ridiculous, but she went silent when I slid it onto her ring finger and told her: “One day I’ll buy you a real crown and you’ll wear it forever.”
She looked at the ring, and then at me, and I saw her eyes get glassy and shiny.
“That’s your boldest move yet, handsome.”
It didn’t feel bold, it just felt right. She felt right—the perfect match to both sides of me—the bored, rich kid from the Hill and the bookie making the city run with blood and illegal money.
“I’m at my best when I’m being bold.” I kissed her pulse where it was thundering under the delicate skin of her wrist, and she settled more fully onto my lap, which had things in my pants getting their own ideas about how we should spend the rest of the weekend.
“That is most definitely true. You know that as long as the kingdom is where you’re at, whatever that looks like is where I want to be, Race. I don’t think it’s a long shot; I think it’s pretty even odds with you, Bax, Titus, and even Nassir there to fight for it.”
I wasn’t sure about that. The outside threat was still an unknown. Bax and I both had plenty to lose now, Titus would always let the lines and regulations of the law confine what he was willing to do, and Nassir was a survivor, so I wasn’t sure that if things started to turn, how committed he was to fighting the good fight. Only time would tell who came out on top, but for now, Brysen was working my shirt up over my head and looking at that little plastic ring like I really had given her a piece of Midas’s treasure. This was where I wanted to be, who I wanted to be, and the Point would just have to wait her turn to take any more of my soul.
The End
Titus’s story coming soon . . .
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’M GOING TO START out with my professional team, which makes me so much better than I really am. It takes a lot of work to get a good book out into the world and I’m very lucky that the peeps that have my back are all so wonderful and fun to work with. I adore all my ladies at HarperCollins. My editor, Amanda Bergeron, is a doll and we didn’t even have to have our first fight over the ending of this book. I adore working with her and really she makes all these stories I tell so much better. She is damn good at her job and that makes working with her a treat . . . until I get my first rewrites back and then I want to murder all the things!
Jessie Edwards works endlessly to make sure these books end up in the right places and the right hands and I am full of confidence that if I ever created a major scandal, she would be all over it and making sure I came out looking better than when I went in. She’s also the one who gets me out to Middle America to see you guys in the wild, so she totally gets a high five for that.
Alaina Waagner is who you all have to thank for the cool treats and contests that get thrown out there in the world. All those posters everyone loves so much and all the book giveaways are all her. She’s a sweetheart and handles the marketing not only of my books but of me and all my crazy, and she does so with smoothness and calmness that I envy. I would choke me if I had to deal with me for reals!
I love all of the people at my publishing house who put in such hard work on my behalf to make these books a success, and I know I wouldn’t be on a bookshelf or an internationally published author without them. I owe them more than just simple words of gratitude, but that’s all I got J.
My agent, Stacey Donaghy, is wonderful and I couldn’t do any of what I do without her. Sometimes I think we might share a brain, and I love that when I tell her I’m supersmart, she goes, “Of course you are. You never fooled me.” I love that she thinks I’m talented and doesn’t try and change the way I do things. I never thought I would be at this level of success in life just by being who I am and doing things I’m passionate about, but Stacey helped me make that possible. I adore that she tells me she is a fan first and my agent second. It really makes me feel like she supports me in standing by every single creative choice I have made to date.
Oh, I’m pretty sure there is no way I can ever put how much I love and value KP Simmon into words. I never thought I needed a publicist . . . WRONG. Holy KP makes Jay’s life so much easier . . . She is a mentor . . . seriously, I want to be her when I grow up. She is a friend. She is a confidante. She is a book lover. She is a media genius and she is the most business-savvy woman I have ever met. She wasn’t scared of me or any of my boys. I love that she dived in headfirst with the Point series and has just kept moving full steam ahead ever since: www.inkslingerpr.com is amazing and I am so honored to have them representing me.
My right-hand lady, Melissa Shank, is a Texas angel. I don’t know how I would get anything done without her. She runs my fan page. She helps me out at events. She handles my giveaways. She plans my parties. She listens to me bitch about stupid stuff all the time. She’s just wonderful and irreplaceable and there are not enough adjectives to describe how glad I am to have her on my team. If you want to hang out with me and Mel on a regular basis, feel free to join Crownover’s Crowd. https://www.facebook.com/groups/crownoverscrowd/ We try and keep it fun and informative, and by “we” I totally mean Mel J.
In my personal life I always have to shout out to my parents and my bestie. Really I am blessed to have such a strong and supportive unit as my inner circle. I love that I get to share my success and my journey with them, and I know even if it all goes away tomorrow they will still love me and support me in whatever it is I choose to do . . . but good Lord, please don’t let it be gone tomorrow!
My friend Carolyn Pinard proofread Race’s book for me before I sent it off to Amanda. She brings in all the commas and fixes all my run-on sentences. She’s a lovely lady and I’m glad to have her not only as the grammar police but also as my friend. We totally got evacuated at Book Bash at two in the morning and didn’t even want to kill each other when we had to hike up and down twelve flights of stairs. That’s when you know you have a real pal . . . if you want to hit her up for some commas . . .
[email protected] As always, I have to sneakily thank Mike Maley for watching my furry family while I’m on the road. He’s such a good guy and I really couldn’t come out and hang with all my readers as often as I do without him.
Okay, book people, there are just so many of you I have no idea how to throw my arms around all of you at once and squeeze. The authors, the bloggers, the readers, the event planners . . . the book friends. There is just so much love for words, books, stories, and this passion we all share out there that it fills me up with happiness. Nothing is better to me than books, so how can I not love the people who love books as much as I do? And for those of you who don’t love this book . . . or that book . . . or any of my b
ooks, I still love you just as much because at least you are reading and that’s all that really matters to me. At least you gave it a shot, and if it didn’t work for you, fair enough. On to the next one.
I don’t ever name-drop blogs because I think all bloggers big and small deserve mad props for doing what they do . . . but there a few bloggers out there who really have a special place in my heart, and I am so honored to share not only a book relationship with them but an honest-to-God friendship that means the world to me. I hope you know who you are, and if you don’t . . . well, then I’m doing something wrong on my end!!
As always, I enjoy hearing from my readers and always make it a Point (ha, see what I did there?) to try and respond to all correspondence I receive.
You can find me at any of these places on the Interwebs:
[email protected] https://www.facebook.com/jay.crownover
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJayCrownover?ref=hl
@jaycrownover on Twitter
www.jaycrownover.com
http://jaycrownover.blogspot.com/
https://www.goodreads.com/Crownover
http://www.donaghyliterary.com/jay-crownover.html
http://www.avonromance.com/author/jay-crownover
WELCOME (BACK) TO THE POINT IN THE THIRD
INSTALLMENT OF THIS EXCITING SERIES
Better When He’s Brave
Titus King has always seen his world in black and white. There is a firm right and wrong in his mind, which is why as a teenager he left behind the only family he’d ever known to make a better life for himself. Now a police detective in one of the worst cities in the country, there is no way he can deny his life has turned into a million different shades of gray.
The new criminal element in the Point has brought vengeance and destruction right to Titus’s front door, and walking the straight and narrow seems far less important. The difference between right and wrong is nothing compared to keeping those he loves alive.
Reeve knows all about the new threat trying to destroy the Point. She knows how ruthless, how vicious, and how cruel this new danger can be . . . and instead of running away, she wants to help. Reeve has a lot to repent for and saving the city, plus the hot cop that she hasn’t been able to forget, might just be the only way she can finally find some inner peace.
It will take two brave souls to fight for love when the entire city is poised on the brink of war . . . and they are standing right in the crossfire.
Summer 2015
LOVING THE MEN OF THE POINT?
KEEP READING TO SEE WHERE IT ALL STARTED
Better When He’s Bad
Sexy, dark, and dangerous, Bax isn’t just from the wrong side of the tracks, he is the wrong side of the tracks. A criminal, a thug, and a brawler, he’s the master of bad choices, until one such choice landed him in prison for five years. Now Bax is out and looking for answers, and he doesn’t care what he has to do or who he has to hurt to get them. But there’s a new player in the game, and she’s much too innocent, much too soft . . . and standing directly in his way.
Dovie Pryce knows all about living a hard life and the tough choices that come with it. She’s always tried to be good, tried to help others, and tried not to let the darkness pull her down. But the streets are fighting back, things have gone from bad to worse, and the only person who can help her is the scariest, sexiest, most complicated ex-con the Point has ever produced.
Bax terrifies her, awakening feelings she never thought she’d have for a guy like him. But it doesn’t take Dovie long to realize . . . some boys are just better when they’re bad.
AVAILABLE NOW
CHAPTER 1
Bax
THERE ARE VERY FEW things that can kill the buzz of postsex mellowness. Getting coldcocked in the side of the head by a pair of knuckles that felt like they were encased in steel ranks right at the top of the list. My ears rang from the blow as my head snapped around from the force. I would’ve reacted, but an uppercut had my chin flying back and my skull ringing solidly against the brick wall behind me. Now I was seeing stars and swallowing blood. Not like these guys cared about a fair fight, but eventually I was going to get my wits back, and there was going to be hell to pay. I spit out a mouthful of blood and took the cigarette the guy who had inflicted the blows offered me.
“Long time no see, Bax.”
I lifted a hand and worked my jaw back and forth to see if it was broken. Nothing ruined a mellow, postorgasm mood like dealing with a bunch of clueless idiots and the thought of losing some teeth.
“How did you find me?” I blew out a stream of smoke and leaned back against the wall of the apartment building I had just exited. The copper taste of blood was tangy on my tongue. I made sure it landed on my assailant’s wing tips when I spit out another mouthful.
“Five years is a long time for a man to go without.” He lifted his eyebrows and flexed those hands I knew from experience were capable of far worse than a little smackdown. “No pussy, no booze, no blow, no fast cars, and no one who gives a shit who you are. I know you, kid; I knew the first thing you would want when you got out was tail. I gave Roxie a heads-up to call me when you came knocking.”
He was wrong. The first thing I went for was the fast car. Granted, I used it to haul ass to a sure thing I knew wouldn’t say no, but still, pussy came after a quality ride.
“So you took it upon yourself to make sure my welcome home sucked as much as possible?”
“If I know Roxie, and I do, you don’t have anything to complain about.” His merry band of thugs all chuckled and I just rolled my eyes. There was a reason Roxie was a sure thing, and not just a sure thing for me, even though I had been out of commission for the last five years.
“I’m not here for me. Novak wants to see you.”
Novak. The name made normal men shake in fear. It usually only came up when people were talking about murder, mayhem, and general discord on the streets. He was ruthless. He was cold-blooded. He was untouchable and a legend in the Point and beyond it. In the shadows and back alleyways he was king. Nobody crossed him. No one walked away from him. No one dared defy him . . . no one except for me. I wanted to see Novak as well, but I wanted to do it on my terms.
I finished the cigarette and put it out under the sole of the heavy black boots I had on. I was a lot bigger now than when I had gotten locked up. I wondered if these guys had bothered to notice. Living a life full of booze, drugs, and easy girls, no matter how young and active you were, isn’t a recipe for healthy living. Getting all that unceremoniously yanked away changes not only how a man lives mentally, but also what he becomes physically, be it by choice or not.
“I don’t want to see Novak.” At least not right now. My ears had finished ringing and all I had now was a splitting headache. These guys didn’t have the element of surprise anymore, and if they wanted to push the issue, it was going to get bloody and ugly really fast. I didn’t care even if I knew the goons were more than likely packing.
The guy who had delivered the blows just stared at me while I stared back. I wasn’t some scared kid anymore who wanted to belong . . . who wanted these guys to be impressed. Sacrificing five years of your life for a bunch of bullshit has a way of leaving a mark on a guy. Novak should’ve known that.
“Race is missing.”
Now, that had the desired effect. My eyes narrowed and my shoulders tensed. I pushed off the apartment building and ran rough hands over my shorn hair. Having hair in the joint was a bad plan, and even with the wicked scar that curved across the side of my scalp, I had no intention of growing the jet-black locks back. Low maintenance was necessary in my line of work—well, my former line of work—but that was a problem I didn’t want to think about now, or ever.
“What do you mean he’s missing? Like he went on a trip, or like Novak made him disappear?” It wouldn’t be the first time Novak took it upon himself to make a problem go away with a bullet between the eyes.
The guy shifted on his
feet and my patience vanished. I lunged forward and grabbed him by the collar of his fancy button-up shirt. I wasn’t eighteen and scrawny anymore, so I saw the fear flash in his eyes as I literally pulled him to the tips of his toes so we were now eye-to-eye. I heard the slide of a gun get pulled back, but I didn’t take my gaze from his as he clawed at my wrists for purchase.
“Answer me, Benny. What do you mean Race is missing?”
Race Hartman was a good dude for the most part. Too good and too smart for this life. He should have never gotten caught up with Novak, should have never been out on the streets with me the night everything went to hell. Doing a nickel to keep a guy like Race out of the clutches of a piece of shit like Novak was a sacrifice I had no trouble making, but if the idiot hadn’t heeded my warning and walked away like he was supposed to when they slapped the cuffs on me, I was going to level the entire city.
Benny tried to kick me in the shin with his sissy wing tip and I tossed him away from me. I shot a dirty look at thug number one, who was holding a gun on me, and flipped him off.
“Bax . . .” Benny sighed and moved to smooth out his shirt where I had wrinkled it up by manhandling him. “Race went to ground the second you got busted. No one heard anything from him; he wasn’t around. None of the girls even saw him. Novak kept an eye out for him in case all that mess the two of you created came back to bite us in the ass, but nothing. Then last week, when the word was out you were getting out, he popped back up. He came around making threats, telling Novak it was bullshit you went down for what happened. I thought he had a death wish, but then . . . poof, he was just gone after stirring up the hornet’s nest. Now, you tell me why a smart guy like Race would do something like that?”