Wednesday, 12 June 2013

Teaser: Madeline Sheehan's "Unattainable."


Ok so you know I said Madeline Sheehan was being extra generous with her teasers recently? Well she's only gone and done it again. Over the next four days, she'll be giving us a teaser from four of her upcoming novels!!!! I'm so excited....I can't wait. So here's the first glimpse of "Unattainable".

Madeline Sheehan:

Soooo... I've decided to take some really great advice from an awesome chick I know and post a teaser from each book over the next four days (one per day) and of course, by popular demand, we're starting with UnAttainable. I don't have a r...elease date, because books can be fickle, sometimes the story pours forth like a waterfall and at other times can be a slow trickle...but so far, so good and maybe, POSSIBLY, I could have Cage and Tegen, Dirty and Ellie and the rest of the gang into your hot little hands...BEFORE WINTER!!! YAY!
With all that said, I won't bore you with more rabmlings from me, but instead present you all with the first, legit, teaser from UnAttainable, from Cage's POV.

******************************

***UnAttainable Teaser***

(Sidebar: Cage is in NYC, visiting the Silver Demon's clubhouse)

Cage stepped inside and slammed Eva’s door closed behind him.
A quick survey of the room showed him a bed, a dresser complete with an ancient stereo system and a rack of CDs beside it, an old, ripped, bean-bag chair sat on the floor, the yellowed-white walls were lined with posters: Led Zeppelin, Janis Joplin, Johnny Cash, Hendrix…and Billie Holiday? Huh.
Eva and her random, usually crappy, borderline obsessive, taste in music would never fail to amaze him.
Moving on he found photos of a very young Eva, sitting on the back of Preacher’s Harley, holding tight to her old man, and another of Eva and Kami, they couldn’t have been older than five or six and the photos that followed were all of them, as they grew up together, as kids, teenagers...women.
There were more; photos of Demon barbecue’s and out of state runs, photos of Eva and the boys as she grew up alongside the club…
Eva’s high school graduation, her college graduation, Kami’s first wedding to some douche bag lawyer and the birth of her first son, Devin. Who looked nothing like that lawyer and a whole lot like Cox. Cage started laughing until he came to another photo...
And he stopped laughing.
Eva and Frankie’s wedding picture.
Cage stared at the maniacal face of Franklin “Crazy” Deluva, Eva’s first husband, the madman who’d ganked Ripper on a run and slashed his face and body to shit, the asshole who’d murdered Kami’s first husband in some sick serial killer fetish fashion, the fucker who’d broken into the Horsemen clubhouse, cuffed Deuce to a radiator and made him watch while Frankie raped Eva.
The man who’d then taken Eva, who probably would have killed her if she hadn’t killed him first, and the man who'd, because of all that, had fucked up Cage's already fucked up family even more so.
Noticing something strange about the photo, he stepped closer and studied it. Yeah, the bottom left corner was pushed out. Lifting the picture off the wall he turned the frame over in his hands and flipped open the clasps holding it together. After tossing aside the backing, he found what was making the bulge in the photo. An old envelope, folded in half.
Setting aside everything else, he unfolded the envelope and looked inside.
“Fuck…” he breathed.
It was small stack of photos, the first of Eva, sitting at the bar next to Blue, her elbows propped up on the countertop, her chin resting on the palms of her hands, grinning at the camera. And she was young, real fucking young, like…
He looked around and locked on a photo of her, wearing her cap and gown. She was college young. Which meant…
He counted back the years and…
Yeah, he’s parents had still been together. Just barely.
Cage looked back at the photos. He knew there was some hardcore history between his old man and her…heard some of the boys tease Eva about it on occasion, but he hadn’t known the whole story… The most he'd ever gotten out of his old man was after he'd first brought Eva back to Montana with him:
*******
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"She the reason you’re pissed off all the time?"
"Yeah."
"She the reason you left mom?"
"Yeah."
"You love her?"
"Yeah."
There was a long pause.
"Cool."
"…yeah."
*******
He continued flipping through the old photos, some were of Eva and the boys, some of Kami being mauled by both Cox and Ripper, some of ZZ, some of Dorothy and Jase…
Jesus. They were all younger than he was now…
But it was the next photo that caused his jaw to drop.
Lying on her back, propped up on her elbows, butt-ass fucking naked, legs spread wide open, sprawled across what he recognized as his old man’s bed at the club, was Eva.
College age Eva.
…and that smile…
…and those tits…
Hurriedly, he tossed it aside. Yeah, they weren’t actually related, but she was his old man’s wife and the mother of his youngest sister, meaning he shouldn’t be using her as bate material. At least not anymore. When he was eighteen, yeah, that was a whole other story.
And…the next photo was even worse. It had been taken at such an angle that you knew the person shooting it had been lying down, capturing the person above them.
And the person above them, was his father, looking ungodly young compared to now…
His long blonde hair was pulled back, his suntanned face was drawn tight, his nostrils flaring, his light blue eyes were wide as he stared down at the photographer with…
Adoration.
Lust.
Love.
And even though Cage couldn’t see anything past his father’s tattooed chest, it was obvious what was happening. Eva had snapped a picture of his old man while he’d been in the middle of fucking her. No, not just fucking… That sorry old bastard had been in love.
Even way back then.
…and jealousy swamped him. Not jealousy over Eva, even though she was one fine ass female, but jealousy of his father.
How many times had that asshole fucked up? How many people had he hurt along the way? And as punishment, god goes and gives him one of the most perfect women Cage had ever known? Beautiful, eighteen, mother-fucking, years younger than him with a heart so big, everyone around her could feel that love just pouring out of her in thick comforting waves.
Fair. Real fucking fair.
Cursing, he jammed the photos back into the envelope, then inside his cut. After setting the photo back to rights on its place on the wall, and giving Frankie one last long look, he headed for the bathroom...
...and he was suddenly acutely aware that Frankie had once walked these very same steps...
…headed for the very same bathroom.
…had pissed in the very same toilet he was, showered in the very shower that stood behind him, slept in that bed…beside Eva…with Eva.
Flushing, he headed back into the bedroom and went straight for the door. No way was he sleeping in a room full of creepy memories, with a ghost -- who may or may not have haunting capabilities, which may or may not include gauging eyes out or making dudes eat their own dick.
And, yeah, he liked his intestines exactly where they were, thank you very much.
He’d sleep beside Tiny, hell, he’d sleep on top of Tiny, before he slept in here.
“Rot in hell, Frankie,” He muttered, closing the door, gladly leaving behind his stepmother’s painful past -- and all the garbage that had followed in its wake -- locked up tight inside that shrine Preacher was passing off as a room.
“Rot in mother fuckin’ hell.”
***END OF TEASER***
(c) Madeline Sheehan Books 2013
Not to be copied or reproduced.See more

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