Part of Series
Clara I am Clara Hagi, the Virgin Queen. I may not be allowed to marry, but I will be the first woman to rule a mafia clan. The Lupu clan is encroaching on Los Angeles, but they won’t get far. Not on my watch. I ache for Tatum, their consilier. I love his piercing black eyes, his tall, muscle-bound frame, his touch, his commands, his beguiling strain of vulnerability—I love it all. The one time and only time he kissed me—my first kiss—was a mistake. That’s what he called it. A mistake. He’ll regret those words; I’ll make sure of it. Tatum Nothing good came from kissing that girl, Clara. A girl whose clan hates mine. A girl who’s off-limits. A girl I should loathe. As consilier, I live and breathe the Lupu clan, and I do it perfectly. Perfection is the only way to make up for my father’s betrayal, a secret I will take to the grave. I’m charged with getting the Virgin Queen under control. Once I do, my clan will rule LA, just as it rules NYC. Every time I see her, I remember. Every time, we spar, I want to kiss her. Every time we accidentally touch—and I hate to touch—I ache for her. One kiss was not enough. Maybe bedding her will get her out of my system, virginity bedamned. Make her pay for twisting me inside out. Make her hurt a little. Purge her from my body and mind. She deserves better than a tainted man like me, but what if I fall for the Virgin Queen?
Author
About Monique Growing up in New York City, I used to walk the hot pavements in the melting heat of the long summers, and dream. Uptown to downtown, eastside to the westside, and underground to catch a subway racing out into the boroughs. During my wanderings, my magic pencil spun out fantasies full of romance, with first meetings, heartbreaks, and reunions. Sometimes my boy crush (unrequited, of course) starred as the hero. I grew up, and after a stint in art school, became a lawyer ‘cuz a woman’s got to make a living. I came from parents who fled to France as refugees, and as an attorney, I dedicated my work to helping survivors of trauma and persecution. I believe in them. In their grit, in their determination to hold on, to pull through and, somehow, someway, to keep themselves intact, body and soul. Perhaps that is why I am drawn to writing stories of men and women who live through heart-rending pain, desperate yearnings and, ultimately, reach a place of redemption. For a long time, I fought the urge to veer off the expected, safe path until I couldn’t go on unless I took a chance and made a change. I began to write, stopped, and began again. Finally, I gave in and here I am. Come join me on my journey…
