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Donnie Nolan learned early that the secret to life is control. Born into a world of blood and violence, he broke free from the chains of his past with the help of Master Blake and his crew at The Club, and vowed that nothing would drag him back… until a knock at the door reminds him that there are some chains that can never be broken.

All Grace Diaz had ever dreamed about was freedom – freedom to control her destiny, to explore her passions, and to love the boy who’d always been her hero. But those dreams died the day Donnie Nolan left the neighborhood. Now, thanks to her older brother’s debts, Grace has become a pawn in a criminal chess game. Kidnapped and held by a man with ties to human traffickers, freedom has never felt like more of a dream.

Donnie must confront his painful past to save Grace. But what will happen when she realizes that he’s not the knight in shining armor she once thought he was, but a sadist who longs for control? Will Donnie be able to reconcile his dark desires with his need to be… her hero?

Publisher’s Note: This book is intended for adults only. It contains raw elements of violence, power exchange, and mild BDSM, including the disciplining of adult women. If these themes offend you, please do not purchase.

 
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Enjoy this hot, free excerpt of Her Hero:
If forbidden fruit always tasted this sweet, Donnie understood what had happened with Adam and Eve. Because as he moved his tongue along the column of her throat, tasting the frantic beat of her pulse, her high-pitched moan of encouragement, and the trusting way she tilted her head to the side, yielding herself to him utterly, he couldn’t conjure any concept of right and wrong, good and evil. There was simply Grace, and the pure, perfect connection that had always existed between them.
 
He trailed open-mouthed kisses up over her jaw, the day-old growth of his beard rough against her cheek. She lifted her hand to grab a handful of his hair, holding him more tightly against her and he growled. Without conscious thought, he moved his arm around her waist, and reached his hand up to palm her breast, gently abrading the stiff peak. She caught her lip between her teeth and threw back her head, knocking the towel loose. Fragrant, damp hair spilled down her back, and her breathing hitched.
 
“Christ,” he breathed, inhaling sharply. “Jesus Christ.”
 
Lost to the moment, lost to her, he moved his mouth to her ear, sucking on her lobe. His fingers pinched her nipple tightly and her back bowed, thrusting her breast more firmly into his hand. He needed to claim her, mark her, own her.