Monday, August 11, 2014


Cursed, numb, rejected, scorned, wicked, sinister, dark, name is Tex Campisi and this is my legacy. I killed my father in cold blood and lost my soul right along with him. 
I crave war more than peace, and I'm about to take my place in history as the youngest Capo dei Capi in the Cosa Nostra...that is until someone stops me, saves me from myself. 

But the only person able to do my best friends sister, Mo Abandanato, and she just ripped my heart out and asked me to hold it in my hands while she put bullets through it. 

Im cursed so I did it. 
I'm numb so I held it. 
I'm wicked so I liked it.
I used the pain Mo caused as a catalyst to turn into my biggest nightmare--the five families greatest enemy. It's my turn to take a stand, knowing full well I'm going to lose my mind to the madness that is the American Mafia. I've always been told Blood is thicker than life. I wish I would have listened. Because regardless of who you love? You will betray. You will kill.
Blood Always Wins. 
The only way out is death...yours.

Welcome to the Dark Side of the Family



This is Tex + Mo's story (although a few others sneak their way in) and what a story they have. It's complicated by love and hate and friends and enemies and bloodlines. (Yes..lots and lots of things with how far and deep bloodlines run; how far you'll go for your blood). Farther than I would go for sure, especially if somebody shot me in some body part every time we fought. LMAO! 

When we last left Tex + Mo they were in the midst of some life altering things...things that cause decisions to be made and actions to be taken, quickly. We discover, almost immediately, that alliances and secret alliances have been formed. Lies and deception are now the rule and not the exception. Correct. We don't know what is going on, but someone is pulling some major strings to affect the outcome of our story. I was dying...dying I tell you...for people to just say eff this...let's all meet on an island somewhere where none of these crazy old guys can find us, and live happily ever after. Nope. That does not happen, folks. 

Who is telling the truth? Eek. 
What is the truth? Right? I couldn't predict what would all. 
Will they survive this? I sure hope so, because RVD introduces characters that I really like...or ones that are disliked, and I want to like something fierce.

The answers to those questions don't come until the very end..until then we get to watch Tex and Mo fight each other, fight their emotions, and basically live in agony. It seems like being in each other's presence is one of the sweetest and yet torturous experiences they both live with, daily. Throw in shenanigans..and it becomes agony for us as we wait to see what will happen next. Such sweet agony it was. I was dropping F bombs, and Shelley. OMG Shelley's all over the place. It was quite an angsty experience...but I found that this is my favorite of the series so far..because the characters have really developed and grown up (well, mostly) and are much more believable in their role in the mafia. It was some cray cray shenanigans, y'all. 

I cannot tell you who will be the focus of the next book as that would spoil some things..but know that there WILL be another book in this series. And WE cannot wait!!! 

Shelley: 4 stars
Courtney: 5 Stars



I had to believe that there was a light at the end of the tunnel and if there wasn’t, well I was screwed.
Whistling, I pulled open the door to the house and walked into the kitchen. Chase was standing there shirtless, sweat pouring down his chest as he devoured a cinnamon roll and cup of coffee. My stomach growled at the smell of fresh rolls.
“I made the rolls.” Chase’s eyes narrowed over his steaming cup of coffee. “After I punched a bag with your face on it.”
“How’d my face turn out?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Wouldn’t know.” Chase shrugged. “I got tired of punching and eventually pulled out my gun. I’ll buy Nixon another punching bag tomorrow.”
“Hmm, got a little rage, Chase?”
“I don’t know Tex, care to sucker punch me again and find out?”
“Ladies.” Nixon stormed into the room. “Tuck those ovaries back into your pants and grow some balls—nobody’s punching anyone.”
“Says who?” I snorted bracing my hands on the counter top.
“Says the guy who’s going to put a bullet in your head if you as much as hint as disrespecting me in my own home.” Nixon yawned and reached for a cup, then offered me one. “Coffee?”
“Probably time to retire when threatening your friends over coffee seems normal, Nixon.” I took the cup. “Just saying.”
“Probably time to take Xanax if you’re punching your best friend in the face for breathing.” Chase lifted his cup mockingly into the air. “Just sayin’.



About Rachel Van Dyken:

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing journey at


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