Title: Souls Unfractured
Series: Hades Hangmen #3
Author: Tillie Cole
Age group: New Adult
Genre: Dark Contemporary Romance
Release date: 11th August 2015
"For fractured souls are like magnets.
Drawn to collide into an impossible bliss…"
Labeled a ‘Cursed’ woman of Eve from birth, Maddie has endured nothing but pain and repression at the hands of The Order’s most abusive elder, Moses. Now living with her sister in The Hangmen’s secluded compound, finally, Maddie, is free. Free from the suffocating faith she no longer believes in. Free from endless years of physical and mental torment.
At age twenty-one, the timid and shy Maddie is content to live within the confines of her new home—safe from the outside world, safe from harm and, strangely, protected by the Hangmen’s most volatile member; the heavily pierced and tattooed, Flame.
The man who ceaselessly watches over her with his midnight dark and searing eyes. The man who protects her with a breath-taking intensity. And the man who stirs something deep within her numbed heart.
But when circumstances conspire for Flame to need HER help, Maddie bravely risks it all for the broken man who has captivated her fragile soul.
The Hangmen’s most infamous member, Flame, is ruled by one thing—anger. Plagued by haunting demons from his past, an all-consuming rage, and isolated by an abhorrent hatred of being touched, Flame's days are filled with suffocating darkness, pierced only by a single ray of light—Maddie. The shy, beautiful woman he cannot purge from his thoughts. The woman he has an overwhelming need to possess…
... the only person who has ever been able to touch him.
Flame’s mission in life is to protect Maddie, to keep her safe. Until a trigger from his troubled past sends him spiraling into madness, trapping him in the deepest recesses of his disturbed mind.
His Hangmen brothers fear that Flame is beyond saving.
His only hope of salvation: Maddie and her healing light.
Gathering my floor-length dress in my hands, I walked into the body of the church, rushing forward until the bright sun from the open entrance lit up the dark wooden floor.
“I won’t say it again. I need you to leave or I’ll call the police.” Pastor James was talking when I arrived at the large doors. The man from the choir immediately saw me and tapped her on her arm.
Pastor James turned round and paled. “Maddie, darlin’, stay in the church and call your sister, or even better, Mr. Nash.”
Her face betrayed her fear but her protests quickly turned to white noise in my ears as I reached the exit and saw, waiting below, at the edge of the busy road was him… Flame. He was pacing back and forth. As always, I counted his steps. Eleven to the right, eleven to the left.
As I drank in how he looked, I feared my legs would collapse. That confusing sensation of my stomach swooping hit me as my eyes focused on his leather-clad legs and the Hangmen cut partly covering his bare torso.
His strangely cut dark hair was in its usual state of disarray. His skin was pale and he had lost weight. I frowned. His muscles were twitching more than usual. His hands clenched into fists more than normal. His lips were muttering something inaudible from this distance, yet… he was still Flame. He was still the man who protected me. He was still the silent shadow that kept me safe.
The man I had missed with the most incredible fervor.
His friends, Viking and AK, stood off to the side. Viking, the enormous red haired brother, looked distressed as he talked to the dark-haired AK, and when he ran his hand through his hair, he turned and his attention locked on me.
Viking’s large chest deflated in what looked like relief and he said something to AK. AK looked toward me and threw a small tired wave.
But I did not have the time to spare for them. All I could concentrate on right now was Flame.
I winced as I caught sight of white gauze on the side of his neck. The gunshot graze. The bullet that should have hit me if he had not thrown himself in its path...
... to protect me.
Flame’s pace increased. I could see his hands shaking as his fists became impossibly tight. Then, with a corded neck, he began to scream. His croaked and rough voice made it to “MADD—” before his eyes whipped to the top of the stairs.
Where they collided with mine.
Flame’s bellowed call caught in his throat and his body came to an abrupt stop. He staggered on uneasy feet as though he was too tired to be standing. But that midnight stare remained. His hands stopped shaking, his wide bare chest pumped at a heady speed, yet a strange kind of calm seemed to flow over him.
I wanted to speak to him.
I wanted take his hand in mine and thank him. Thank him beyond words for saving my life.
But I could not. I did not have the courage.
About the 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.
Connect with her
Post a Comment