WANDERER by Janine
Infante Bosco Nomad #2
Publication Date: March
7, 2017
Genres: Adult,
Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Romantic Suspense
COVER CREDITS
Cover Designer: JB's
Cover Obsession Design
Model: Marshall
Perrin
Photographer: Wander
Pedro Aguiar
PREORDER your copy of WANDERER NOW!
SYNOPSIS:
Cobra
I’ve lived two lives. One
full of innocence and one full of sin. I mourned the perfect life I was
born into and made it my duty to chase the phantom who stole it from me. Revenge,
mayhem and loss are all I know. I am the lone man—I am the wanderer. The
former nomad—now, Satan’s deadliest soldier. The two worlds were never
supposed to collide. Innocence and sin aren’t made to coexist yet somehow my
past bleeds into the present and I find myself facing my biggest regret…I find
myself face to face with her—the girl who got away. The girl I let go. The
woman I’ll ruin if I stay.
Celeste
Our young love was
marred by violence. Our guilt destroyed us, fate tempted us but, it was he
who broke us. They say time heals all, but all time did was dull the ache
of his abandonment. Now, dressed in leather, covered in ink the boy I
mourned is now a man—a man tormented by his demons.In another life we were
everything to one another. In this life we’re strangers.
#WANDERER
Wanderer Excerpt
Prologue
Present Day As a
boy, I identified desperation as a narcotic, something toxic that defined a man
as weak. It was the sense of hopelessness I saw in my old man’s eyes every time
the cops knocked on our front door. It robbed him of his ability to think
straight and made him crave vengeance. For my father, desperation was his
confirmed resignation on life. As a man, my views have changed and I now
identify desperation as an act of war. The fundamentals of war are someone wins
and someone dies trying but it is the cause, not the death that makes the
martyr. My cause is simple. It’s driven by the ice in my veins. Fueled
by the blood in my eyes. Sparked by the hate in my soul. My cause is
retribution. I’ve been grooming myself for this battle since I was
fourteen years old, since Vladimir Yankovich first took my sister. Back then,
he didn’t have a face, nor did he have a name and by the time I discovered who
was responsible for the tragedy that claimed our lives, the Russian cocksucker
had already taken more from me by brutally killing my parents. I became
familiar with desperation and morphed into the same hopeless man my father used
to be. I wandered alone, hunting a faceless stranger for years, adding to my
list of immoralities but never got my due vengeance. I gave up before I
signed away on my confirmed resignation too. Resolving that all the sins I
committed chasing the Devil would eventually catch up with me. Life only lets
you get away with inflicting evil for so long. Sooner or later we all pay the
price and when you get the bill, you better be prepared to pay. Today I
got the bill and I’m paying for my sins but I’m not the only one—she’s paying
too. With the heart of an angel and a soul so pure, I was sure she was
sent from Heaven. So sweet. So innocent.She brought light into my
life and I knew the moment I laid eyes on her I would never love anyone the way
I love her. He knew too. Now, he’s taken from me again and I’ve
become the man I feared being. I’ve become my father. And desperation
has claimed me because I won’t let history repeat itself again. I won’t let
Yankovich take from me and live to tell. Not this time. Not ever
again. This is war and there is only one victor. All men have fears
but the ones that are brave, place their fears down and go forward. Sometimes death
is the only victory allowed. Lucky for me, I’ve never been afraid of dying. I
used to think I’d die for my club, that the patch on my back was worth the
sacrifice, but it’s that patch that’s led Satan to my doorstep. It’s the
stitching that reads Brooklyn that has made my angel become Yankovich’s next
target. Stripping the worn cut from my shoulders, I toss it to the ground
as my boots pound the pavement and I run through the shipping yard. Alone,
defying my brotherhood, chasing retribution I spot the boat anchored at the end
of the pier. My father’s voice rings in my ears, reminding me to listen to
my gut, schooling me on intuition. Intuition knows the game and has your
best interest at heart. What my father should’ve taught me is retribution
and bad decisions go hand in hand. He should’ve taught me not to be reckless
because one reckless mistake is about to cost me the sweetest, the purest love
I’ve ever known. One mistake can cost me her. The distinct
rumble and roar of straight pipes echoes behind me and I know the men I once
called my brothers have arrived and their duty isn’t to save me but to kill me. They
can try but, they gotta catch me to kill me. Rounding the dock, I see
Yankovich’s men running towards the boat. Without hesitation, I take my father’s
advice and follow my gut, dragging the strap of my automatic shotgun around my
shoulders. I lift the gun, wrap my finger around the trigger and ignore the
voices behind me. “Cobra, stand down!” Riggs shouts from behind me. “Get
back!” Blackie demands. Fuck them. I continue taking long strides
along the wooden dock, closing in on my mark—deciding execution style is the
way I’m going to deliver them to Hell but I’m too slow. They spin around, draw
their weapons and unleash their bullets in my direction. Shot after shot. Clip
after clip. Bang! Bang! Gun powder fills the air, mixing with the
dense fog, making it impossible to see my targets or the bullets headed
straight for me or the ones whizzing through the air from behind me. Blindly,
I fire back, keeping my finger on the trigger as I have a showdown with death.
Voices shout around me in both a native and foreign tongue. In front of me, my
last rites are given to me in Russian. Behind me, orders of war are declared. “Riggs,
press the fucking button,” Blackie bellows. “Cobra, get down!” Riggs
shouts. “Do it now!” Blackie commands. “No,” I scream at the top of
my lungs as I drop my gun.Spreading my arms wide, I close my eyes and offer
myself to both sides of the fence, praying they take me and spare her. A
million smiles flash before my eyes. Every single one I’ve tallied through
the years. All belong to Celeste except for the final one. It’s the
smile of an innocent child. Big blue eyes, pure and full of wonder, stare
back at me asking me—pleading with me to rescue her from the ugly world. Save
me, daddy. It’s her face I’ll die remembering…the beautiful face of my
daughter.Helpless, spent and defeated, I drop to my knees as the blast
reverberates through me and the sky lights in hues of orange and red. I open
my mouth to scream but the voice I hear isn’t my own. “NO!” “Get
back, Celeste!” Blackie barks. I close my eyes. “JAGGER!” Bullets
tear through my skin. Blood pours from my wounds. But I don’t feel a
thing. Numbly, I open my eyes and stare down the dock into the flames of
Hell. Once the wanderer, I am now the martyr.
#WANDERINTOCHAOS
ABOUT JANINE INFANTE BOSCO
Janine Infante Bosco
lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was
thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took
off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with
dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild. Janine
writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong
willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women
they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like
herself. She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships
she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would
be her two sons Joseph and Paul.
ENTER THE GIVEAWAY
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