They say the vows you take on your wedding day are sacred. Mine were broken before we left church.

THE KISS THIEF BY L.J. SHEN
Release Date: January 9th
Cover Designer: Letitia Hasser at RBA Designs.

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Blurb
They say your first kiss should be earned.
Mine was stolen by a devil in a masquerade mask under the black Chicago sky.
They say the vows you take on your wedding day are sacred.
Mine were broken before we left church.
They say your heart only beats for one man.
Mine split and bled for two rivals who fought for it until the bitter end.
I was promised to Angelo Bandini, the heir to one of the most powerful families in the Chicago Outfit.
Then taken by Senator Wolfe Keaton, who held my fatherโs sins over his head to force me into marriage.
They say that all great love stories have a happy ending.
I, Francesca Rossi, found myself erasing and rewriting mine until the very last chapter.
One kiss.
Two men.
Three lives.
Entwined together.
And somewhere between these two men, I had to find my forever.

Excerpt
โAre you sure youโre on my card?โ I turned to the man with a polite yet distant smile. I was still disoriented from the exchange with Angelo when the stranger pulled me against his hard body and pressed a possessive hand lower than socially acceptable on my back, a second from groping my butt.
โAnswer me,โ I hissed.
โMy bid on your card was the highest,โ he replied dryly.
โThe bids are undisclosed. You donโt know how much other people have paid,โ I kept my lips pursed to keep myself from yelling.
โI know itโs nowhere near the realm of what this dance is worth.โ
Un-freaking-believable.
We began to waltz around the room as other couples were not only spinning and mingling but also stealing envious glances at us. Naked, raw ogles that told me that whomever the blonde heโd come to the masquerade with was, she wasnโt his wife. And that I might have been all the rage in The Outfit, but the rude man was in high demand, too.
I was stiff and cold in his arms, but he didnโt seem to noticeโor mind. He knew how to waltz better than most men, but he was technical, and lacked warmth and Angeloโs playfulness.
โNemesis.โ He took me by surprise, his rapacious gaze stripping me bare. โDistributing glee and dealing misery. Seems at odds with the submissive girl who entertained Bishop and his horsey wife at the table.โ
I choked on my own saliva. Did he just call the governorโs wife horsey? And me submissive? I looked away, ignoring the addictive scent of his cologne, and the way his marble body felt against mine.
โNemesis is my spirit animal. She was the one to lure Narcissus to a pool where he saw his own reflection and died of vanity. Pride is a terrible illness.โ I flashed him a taunting smirk.
โSome of us could use catching it.โ He bared his straight white teeth.
โArrogance is a disease. Compassion is the cure. Most gods didnโt like Nemesis, but thatโs because she had a backbone.โ
โDo you?โ He arched a dark eyebrow.
โDo Iโฆ?โ I blinked, the courteous grin on my face crumpling. He was even ruder when we were alone.
โHave a backbone,โ he provided. He stared at me so boldly and intimately, it felt like he breathed fire into my soul. I wanted to step out of his touch and jump into a pool full of ice.
โOf course, I do,โ I responded, my spine stiffening. โWhatโs with the manners? Were you raised by wild coyotes?โ
โGive me an example,โ he said, ignoring my quip. I was beginning to draw away from him, but he jerked me back into his arms. The glitzy ballroom distorted into a backdrop, and even though I was starting to notice that the man behind the demi-mask was unusually beautiful, the ugliness of his behavior was the only thing that stood out.
I am a warrior and a ladyโฆand a sane person who can deal with this horrid man.
โI really like Angelo Bandini.โ I dropped my voice, slicing my gaze from his eyes and toward the table where Angeloโs family had been seated. My father was sitting a few seats away, staring at us coldly, surrounded by Made Men who chatted away.
โAnd see, in my family, we have a tradition dating back ten generations. Prior to her wedding, a Rossi bride is to open a wooden chestโcarved and made by a witch who lived in my ancestorsโ Italian villageโand read three notes written to her by the last Rossi girl to marry. Itโs kind of a good luck charm mixed with a talisman and a bit of fortunetelling. I stole the chest tonight and opened one of the notes, all so I could rush fate. It said that tonight I was going to be kissed by the love of my life, and wellโฆโ I drew my lower lip into my mouth and sucked it, peering under my eyelashes at Angeloโs empty seat. The man stared at me stoically, as though I was a foreign film he couldnโt understand. โIโm going to kiss him tonight.โ
โThatโs your backbone?โ
โWhen I have an ambition, I go for it.โ
A conceited frown crinkled his mask, as if to say I was a complete and utter moron. I looked him straight in the eye. My father taught me that the best way to deal with men like him was to confront, not run. Because, this man? Heโd chase.

About the Author
L.J. Shen is an International #1 best-selling author of Contemporary Romance and New Adult novels. She lives in Northern California with her husband, young son and chubby cat.
Before sheโd settled down, L.J. (who thinks referring to herself in the third person is really silly, by the way) traveled the world, and collected friends from all across the globe. Friends whoโd be happy to report that she is a rubbish companion, always forgets peoplesโ birthdays and never sends Christmas cards.
She enjoys the simple things in life, like spending time with her family and friends, reading, HBO, Netflix and internet-stalking Stephen James. She reads between three to five books a week and firmly believes Crocs shoes and mullets should be outlawed.
Connect with L.J. Shen
Website: http://www.authorljshen.com/
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