Born on the wrong side of the tracks, Alex Hughes has always known what people think of her—and working as an exotic dancer hasn’t exactly helped her image. But since bonding with a Greek goddess of vengeance six months ago, Alex has had bigger problems. Like dealing with the Spartans, the outlaw biker gang with supernatural connections terrorizing Boston.
And then there’s Tyler Kelly… Tall, dark, and sexy, the ex-Navy SEAL is a deadly fighter and a potential lover. But Alex is more comfortable kicking ass than facing her feelings, and none of the men or women she’s dated in the past have made her feel the way Ty does. As if her life wasn’t complicated enough, she discovers there’s no wound like a bruised ego when she takes on the goddess behind the Spartans’ reign of terror—and loses. Alex’s faith in herself is shaken as enemies turn out to be allies and friends offer betrayal. But as the saying goes…
Hell has no Fury like a woman scorned.
Genre: FICTION / Fairy Tales, Folk Tales, Legends & Mythology4-star rating on Amazon
#6202 in Multicultural & Interracial Romance
#6853 in Multicultural Romance
#29610 in Paranormal Romance (Kindle Store)
CHAPTER ONE
I arched my back and tossed my mane of hair as I spun around the pole mounted at the centre of the circular stage. Tonight I was a purple-haired, punk rock goddess, my own shoulder length, dyed-black hair tucked up beneath a wig. Purple light shone down from above, highlighting my curves as the men seated at the rail gazed up hungrily.
Tonight I wasn’t Alex Hughes, a white trash nobody from Hawthorne, Massachusetts. I was Alexis
Diamond, star of Boston’s premiere adult entertainment destination. I blew a kiss to my audience. Tonight I was queen of the Xanadu, ‘where all your pleasure dreams come true’.
That was the slogan, anyway.
And whether I was Alexis or Alex, I was sure of one thing—I would never be that white trash nobody
ever again. The ancient Greek Fury living inside my head was proof of that.
I dropped to my knees to crawl seductively to the edge of the stage. I prowled like a cat along the row of men waving bills at me, tucking money into my Gstring as I went, but the cash wasn’t my motivation. Not tonight.
Once out of the spotlight’s glare, I was able to glance out onto the floor of the club and track the movements of Tara and Rachel, my best friends and cocktail waitresses for the evening.
This grows tedious, Megaera complained in my head, voicing her frustration with the night’s activities. Usually the Fury enjoyed the nights when I—we—worked at the club. After spending thousands of years in dark oblivion, the pounding music, bright lights, and wild sights of a high-end strip club werelike a drug to her. Total sensory overload, in the best way possible. But tonight we had things to focus on that were more important than shaking my
moneymaker. Like catching whoever had been supplying drugs to the girls, then pimping them out once they were hooked.
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Nelson Santos
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