“On one condition: I talk to Evelyn, I explain.”
He shook his head and sighed. “Now you know that won’t ever happen. You speak to her, she’s dead; you flee, she’s dead. One whisper that you have made contact with anyone in America, with your family even, she’s dead. You see, Rocco, to those people you are already dead.”
He rose from his chair and buttoned his jacket. “Tonight, you rest. I’ll have someone look at that shoulder for you. In the morning I want your answer.”
“And if I say no?”
“Then she’s dead.” He walked away.
****
I was driven to a hotel, a very upmarket hotel and shown to a suite on the top floor. My mind was in turmoil. I still didn’t know his name but got that he was from Rome. There were some powerful families in Rome. My knowledge of Costa Nostra was limited to the families in America but I knew there were far more powerful ones in Italy. It seemed I had just landed myself in a heap load of shit with one of them.
I lay on the bed fully clothed and realised I had no choice. Adriana, Mamma, Geraldo, everyone would think I was dead and if I made contact, I had no doubt Evelyn would be. For the first time in a while I let the tears fall. I buried my face in the pillow knowing there was someone outside the door and quietly cried.
I cried for Evelyn, for the children we would never have. I cried for my Mamma having to bury her ‘son’ when I was still alive. I cried for myself. I was fucked—big time. I would do what he asked. I would do anything to ensure the safety of my family and Evelyn and I vowed, one day, I would kill him.
Letter from Rocco
I made a decision that day to walk away from the only woman I ever loved. The only woman I wanted to marry, to father her children and to grow old with. I believed in my heart she would die if I didn’t and I could never live with the knowledge that I had been responsible for that. I prayed night after night that she would grieve then move on. That she would meet a wonderful man worthy of her, marry and live happy.
I moved to Rome and I worked for Salvatore Beneditti, head of a powerful family and the Ndrangheto.
Salvatore got the information he required. I wasn’t released from his employment immediately, it took a few years and then I did return to America, briefly. I saw Evelyn from a distance; I also saw her wearing an engagement ring. I was pleased for her but I was too damaged by the things I had done and the things I had left to do to make a life with her. I had killed many.
I am a powerful man; I am now the head of a powerful family and the Ndrangheto. Even more so after overthrowing the Sicilian Costa Nostra and the Naples Camorra. I am the head of the most powerful crime organisation in the world, according to the press.
At heart, I am a simple farmer’s son who loved so desperately and lost.
It’s that loss that drives me to do all that I have and one day, soon, I’ll have achieved everything I set out to do and then, who knows? Maybe I can find that dream again.
My name is Rocco and this is my story. It isn’t over yet.
Acknowledgements
I could never have written the Fallen Angel series without the support of my family. My husband has been my rock, without him, I wouldn’t be here.
My heartfelt thanks to the best beta readers a girl could want, Karen Shenton, Alison Parkins, Lucii Grubb and Rebecca Sherwin - your input is invaluable.
Thank you to Margreet Asslebergs of Rebel Edit & Design for yet another wonderful cover.
I’d also like to give a huge thank you to my editor - Megan Gunter with Indie Solutions by Murphy Rae. Please check out their web site - www.murphyrae.net
A hug goes out to the guys in Tracie’s Fallen Angels, a fan page on Facebook - you cheer me up and give me reason to keep writing.
An even bigger hug goes to the ladies in my team. These ladies give up their time to support and promote my books. Karen Shenton, Louise White, Louise Bailey, Lilian Flesher, Jennifer Teasley Bruno, Angel Parkinson, Lucii Grubb, Kerry-Ann Bell and Lindsey Poage Norwood.
To all the wonderful bloggers that been involved in promoting my books and joining tours, thank you and I appreciate your support. There are too many to name individually – you know who you are.
To my research guru who shall remain nameless – thank you for your advice, for listening to my plot ideas and guiding me with procedures.
I am fortunate to have made many friends in the book world, some wonderful authors that I’ve met on my journey and I now class as close friends, book besties if you will. Rebecca Sherwin, Ava Manello and K L Shandwick – you ladies rock, big time! Your support and encouragement, your willingness to share ideas and just talk ‘books’ is precious to me, thank you. I urge you to check out these ladies – they write some amazing books.
If you wish to keep up to date with information on this series and future releases - and have the chance to enter monthly competitions, feel free to sign up for my newsletter. You can find the details on my web site:
www.TraciePodger.com
Turn your face to the sun and the shadow falls behind you.
About the Author
Tracie Podger currently lives in Kent, UK with her husband and a rather obnoxious cat called George. She’s a Padi Scuba Diving Instructor with a passion for writing. Tracie has been fortunate to have dived some of the wonderful oceans of the world where she can indulge in another hobby, underwater photography. She likes getting up close and personal with sharks.
Tracie wishes to thank you for giving your time to read her books and hopes you enjoy them as much as she loves writing them. If you would like to know more, please feel free to contact her, she would love to hear from you.
Twitter: @Tracie Podger
Facebook: Tracie Podger, Author
www.TraciePodger.com
Available in ebook and paperback....
Fallen Angel, Part 1
Fallen Angel, Part 2
Fallen Angel, Part 3
Evelyn - A Novella
Rocco – A Novella
Robert
Travis
Coming soon....
Fallen Angel, Part 4
A Virtual Affair
The Passion Series
The Twisted Series
by
Rebecca Sherwin
Life is unpredictable. It can throw us happiness, luck, wealth and success at any given time, without warning or premonition. But it can also send trauma, trials and surprises, both unexpected and unwelcome.
The Twisted series explores a world where happiness is chased but unreachable, life is found and stolen, and love is fought for and sacrificed.
It is not a simple story – life is not a fairytale.
Sometimes it’s a fight for Survival…
Survival
With intertwining memories and a world of deceit and betrayal yet to be exposed, Survival, book #1 in the Twisted series, is an intense, compelling page-turner, seen through the eyes of Skye 'the Skillet' Jones.
A mother. A father. Two daughters and a son. A happy suburban family of five.
An alcoholic mother. An absent father.
Abandonment. A family ripped apart.
Oliver. Beautiful Oliver. My twin brother, my protector.
Fighting. Freedom. Death.
Cut Throat Curtis. My fire and ice. My light and shade. My pleasure and pain.
He taught me to fight; to control emotional turmoil with physical distraction. He had pain of his own, secrets he would never reveal, and I should have known it would only be a matter of time until he left, becoming a ghost in a life I no longer knew.
Thomas. My magic. My fairy-tale. The man who promised the happy ever after I’d never dared to dream of. My prince. My lover. My everything and more.
But fate was waiting, as always. The merciless force of kismet watched over me, biding its time, waiting to strike; to plunge me into the depths of defeat and leave me with no choice but to succumb.
It was coming, the twist of fate that would bring me to my
knees. It was up to me, Skye the Skillet, to decide whether to bow down and surrender to its will, or fight back, to fight for what I had left.
To fight for my survival…
Chapter One
I had the perfect life. No, really, I did.
I had everything I ever wanted.
I had a good job that paid the bills with enough money spare to eat out regularly and go on quarterly holidays in the sun.
I had a four bedroom detached house, a stone’s throw from the countryside and just a ten minute drive to the city.
I had a car; I traded it in for a new model every two years. Before it needed an inspection or service, I had a shiny brand new one sitting on my double driveway.
I had a Rottweiler called Buster. Cliché, I know, but he was the final step. The one before you took the plunge and had a baby.
And I had the perfect man. We were happy and we were in love.
See? My life had finally fallen into place.
But little did I know that in my blissful state of ignorance, I was taking everything for granted. I didn’t know my time in possession of perfection was running out.
I had no idea I was about to have everything ripped away from me. Again.
I didn’t see it coming.
My name is Skye, and this is my story.
***
There has to be a way out. There has to be.
Almost autumn, 2002.
“Skye!”
My mother banged her fist on my bedroom door like she did every morning. Every. Morning.
I groaned and opened my eyes. I was in my third ‘snooze’ phase of the new day and I was not happy about being woken up before the fourth. Alarm clocks had snooze buttons for a reason.
“Skye!” she called again, and banged. Again. “If I have to listen to that alarm once more, you’ll be investing in a new one!”
I groaned again and cursed. I did that a lot at home; I didn’t want to be there. I hadn’t for a long time; not since my father left to live with his new girlfriend and my life turned to shit. It was a day I would never forget. My mother stood by the kitchen window with her arms folded, looking out at the other houses in the cul-de-sac. My father packed his things and we watched from the sofa as he filled his car and pulled off the driveway. There was no conversation; we didn’t get an explanation. He just said goodbye, in a voice that sounded nothing like the one he used when he told us he was proud of us, and he left.
We had a nice house when he lived with us. I had my own room with a big bay window. It’s funny how you notice the little things when they’re gone.
Living in a family home soon changed. My mother had never had a job and didn’t even pretend to try and get one when he walked out. She let the government pay for everything and as a result, we had to move – to a two bedroom flat in a tower block.
It wasn’t so bad, if you ignored the pounding music from the neighbours on one side and the suspicious smell of what the couple on the other side were smoking. Oh, and the old lady downstairs. She would bash the ceiling with her broom because she forgot she lived in a third floor flat provided by the council, instead of the bungalow she lived in with her husband before he died. She was nice enough, if you caught her on a good day, when she actually remembered her own name and what year it was.
I didn’t hate my father; I didn’t blame him for leaving. I only envied him for being able to escape. And I wished he had taken us with him… Us. My twin brother, Oliver, and me. I just wished he had run away with us both in tow.
My mother didn’t care that we shared a room. I’m sure, at nineteen, it was illegal. The council didn’t care and our mother didn’t care enough to try to change it. Beth, our older sister…she got out two years earlier. She moved away to university and apart from the weekly call to make sure we weren’t malnourished, she had her own life.
Oliver and I both held down two jobs so we could feed and clothe ourselves, and pay the water rates; we were two showers a day clean freaks. We worked all the hours we could, which was pointless because she only smoked and drank our money away. A vegetable or a hint of colour was a rarity in our fridge.
I was determined to get out, we both were. We decided one night, about five months in when we were high from inhaling next door’s fumes,that we wouldn’t put up with her for much longer. We would save enough money to move out and get a place together; a place with at least two bedrooms.
We only had each other. We had to stick together; keep each other sane and on the straight and narrow.
“Skye!” My mother’s incessant banging and leechy voice continued.
I had turned the damn alarm off ages ago. I realised when she banged again and I considered getting out of bed, opening the door and banging my fist on her face to show her how it felt, that she didn’t want me to be late for work. Less money on my paycheck meant fewer Marlboro Lights for her. I would go and earn the money, give her half and not tell her the other half would go into our savings box. Oliver and I would get out soon, I could feel it. Maybe it was the lingering smell of weed from the night before making me delirious, hopeful, when I should have known better than to have hope.
I heaved myself out of bed and looked across the room at my sleeping brother. He had pulled the duvet over his head to block out her voice so he could sleep before work. He had only been home from his other job for a couple of hours.
Marijuana effects or not, I had a feeling we would be okay. I had to keep that energy and channel it into making a better life for us. I could do that. What other choice was there?
But life doesn’t work out the way you plan it, no matter how hard you try.
It’s the unexpected we all fail to prepare for…
Buy Survival (Twisted #1) on Amazon
Buy Revival (Twisted #2) on Amazon
Buy Thrive (Twisted #3) on Amazon
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Rocco: To accompany the Fallen Angel Series Page 10
