expr:class='"loading" + data:blog.mobileClass'>

Thursday, September 15, 2016

#Review #Giveaway #Excerpt Junkie by @HeatherLeigh_8

  • NEW DARK ROMANCE by Heather C. Leigh

Meet Miri (Junkie) and Jagger (Boss) in the Broken Doll Series!

Want a Spoiler Free Bonus Scene of Jagger?

Junkie-ebook (1).jpg

Book Summary

I'm a heroin addict. A junkie. A whore. I'll do anything to get my next fix.


Including walking right onto the property of Austin's most ruthless and feared drug lord to beg for some H. I don't know his name, only that people call him Boss. Oh, and that he won't think twice to put a bullet in my head.

But like I said, I'll do anything to get my next fix. Even if it costs me my life.

Or changes it forever.


Review- 4.75 Stars

Junkie.  Whore.  Nasty.  Trash

What the hell did I just read....Freaking crazy!  I loved this book, like totally hooked from the first chapter.  I didn't read the blurb so I didn't know what to expect.  I thought why not I'm in a dark phase right, this will be right up my alley right now.  I was not expecting this...Heather Leigh just took this too a level that is crazy!
Junkie is the first book in the Broken Doll series and told from dual POV'S.

Get real, girl.  There's no free in this game

Miri is at the end of her rope.  She needs her next fix and will do anything and I mean anything for it.  Not thinking clearly she goes to the one place that could kill her, but she needs her fix.  She's desperate...
I really liked Miri.  She showed progress through the story.  She blossomed into the girl she use to be before drugs took control of her life.  Before she sunk to the level of whore or junkie.  Miri was beautiful and smart, but her self esteem had taken a plunge.  Could this man Jag be the one to bring her back?  Or would he destroy her?

She was mine. My property.  My fiery temptress.  My broken doll.

Jag aka Bossman was a interesting character.  He's the ruthless drug lord of Austin.  He's rough, dark and downright scary at times.  It was like he had multiple personalities because he could go from polite and charming to dark and dangerous.  Definitely intriguing...he had his demons, but I'm sure if we know them all.  Some things are revealed, but I think there are more skeletons.  Deep down I think Jag is/was looking for something more.  He's young, but tired of the life he's been living.  When this dirty girl stumbles into his life, she may be the game changer he's looking for?  Or she could bring destruction into his life that he wasn't  expecting?

They made you who you are, Miri.  From your weakness, your addiction, you will prove that you can come out of it and rise up, become a better, stronger version of yourself.  You're stunning.  You're perfect.  We all have our flaws and imperfections, doll

The chemistry between them is undeniable, but Jag won't give in.  He's mesmerized by her, loves her fiery side and knows she still has a spark/strength inside her to live.  However, he can't give into her, so he continually denies her.  He keeps treating her like property.  But is that how he really feels?  The intensity between them is super hot.  I couldn't get enough of them...so much passion.  I got why Jag was trying to deny her.  She would be a weakness and his enemies could use that too their advantage.  But when their bodies connected, it's like their souls joined and were lite on fire.  They owned each other's bodies, but what about each other's hearts?  Gah, I'm rooting for them!

Heather did an amazing job giving us the seedy world of running a drug operation or what it feels like to be addicted.  To rely on a substance to survive...very descriptive.  Her words hooked me and I couldn't wait too see what was going to happen next to the characters.  Of course since this is book one, it ends with a huge cliffhanger!  Like seriously woman!  That ending had me swiping my kindle trying to get to the next page, but nothing...NOTHING!  I can't wait for Jagger.  This book is intense, hot, and down right crazy!   4.75 Stars!

JunkieAd4 (1).jpg

Boss forces Miri in the shower to get clean

Fighting the intense, gut-clenching fear, I tightened my grip, using his strong muscles to keep me upright as he washed my feet. The cloth skimmed up my legs one at a time, his hands scrubbing over and over as the foam rinsed away days of dirt and grime. The boss skipped my clothed midsection, straightened to his full height, and repeated the process with my arms, spending extra time on my dirt-caked hands and nails, and the track marks on my arms, only moving on when my skin glowed pink.
Next, he lifted my long red hair off my neck and slid the cloth across the top of my back and shoulders, then around the front to wash the exposed part of my chest where my tank top dipped low. I glanced down as his enormous, bruised and scabbed hands worked over my skin, only then realizing my white tank was completely transparent and I wasn’t wearing a bra. Instinctively, my hands flew up to cover my breasts. He chuckled, a smooth, deep sound so seductive it could easily charm a roomful of people and melt every pair of panties in a five-mile radius.
“A little too late for that, doll. Seein’ as I’ve already got a good look at everything.”
Something about his cocky drawl, the crooked smirk on his face, and that single raised eyebrow felt like a challenge. My courage, boosted by the decadent lull of my best friend, heroin, had me meeting his gaze head-on. Determined to show the boss I wasn’t a cowering scaredy-cat, I fingered the hem, tugged the wet tank over my head, and tossed it to the floor with a loud splat. The man’s eyes widened, which only fueled my desire to make him eat his stupid words. Still staring directly into those sapphire eyes, I stuck my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts and shoved them down, stepped out, and kicked them aside. Completely naked, I stood my ground and raised my own brow in return, hands on my hips.
Our eyes were locked a few more seconds before he threw his head back and burst out laughing. The action made him look years younger than I originally believed. “You are somethin’ else, you know that, doll?”
Instead of answering, I snatched the soapy washcloth from his hand and quickly finished washing my newly exposed skin.
The boss scrambled to catch the cloth I whipped at his chest before turning to storm out of the shower. I yelped when he grabbed me by the arm and yanked me toward him. The blazing heat of his chest was pressed against the bare skin of my back and I trembled from head to toe. The boss held tight and lowered his mouth to my ear.
“First, don’t ever fucking throw shit at me again.” Chills broke out across my skin at his angry threat. “You will not disrespect me in my own house, especially after I fucking took you in instead of killing you the second you set foot on my property. Got it?” When I didn’t answer, he squeezed my upper arms until I whimpered.
“Y-yes. I get it.” I struggled to keep from screaming out of pure terror. What was I thinking? Mouthing off to a drug lord while naked in his shower and a house full of his goons one floor below. I couldn’t possibly be more vulnerable.
After digging his fingers in for another long moment to prove he was in charge, the boss released me and spun me around as he picked up another bottle. “Your hair is fucking disgusting. It needs to be washed.” He wrinkled his nose in distaste and once more, shame flooded me with heat. This man had a way of making me feel as though I was less than human. He held out the bottle, shaking it in my face. “Either you do it, or I do, doll. But you’re not getting out of here until you’ve cleaned the junkie stench off.”
The backs of my eyes stung and my face caught fire. I couldn’t look at him as I took the bottle and poured some shampoo into a shaky hand. He washed himself quickly then stood with his arms crossed over his wide chest as I lathered my hair and rinsed off under the spray.
“Again,” he demanded. I bit my lip to keep from telling him to fuck off and did as I was told.
When the last suds swirled down the drain, the boss was silent as he reached around me and cut off the water. He carefully folded the washcloth, laid it on the edge of the sink, and stepped out of the shower enclosure. He handed me a towel, and picked one up for himself. I tried not to watch as he rubbed the fluffy white cloth over all of those tan muscles, but it was futile. Staring, I was mesmerized by the sight as the boss wrapped the towel around his waist and shucked his wet briefs from underneath. I gulped, knowing he was now naked beneath the soft terrycloth, a mere foot away.
When the silence became uncomfortable, I clutched my own towel to my chest, dug up what little courage I had left, and turned to face him with a huff. “We showered together and I don’t even know your name.”
He quirked that damn eyebrow again and smiled, white teeth gleaming in the middle of his dark designer stubble. If I didn’t know he was a widely feared drug lord and a pushy, high-handed, scary motherfucker, I’d find his expression almost charming.
“I know you’re The Boss, I want to know your name.”
“My name is Boss,” he repeated. “Or Boss Man. Either one works.” As if he didn’t have a care in the world, as if forcing unwilling women into a shower were an everyday occurrence, he shrugged and brushed a hand through his wet hair.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, don’t tell me.” This guy was so damn frustrating. He shot me up with H, dumped me in the shower, humiliated me, washed me, but wouldn’t tell me his name. Whatever. I turned my back to him.
Big mistake.
Two large hands wrapped around my shoulders, and I was jerked back against his body once more. Both of us were currently clad only in towels, his slung low around his waist and mine tucked under my armpits. There wasn’t as much skin-on-skin contact as in the shower, but this felt much more intimate. Slowly, Boss spun me around to face him, and I had to muffle a frightened cry. His blue eyes were narrowed to slits, nostrils flaring. The transformation from playful to furious was immediate and absolutely terrifying. For the first time since I’d showed up on his lawn, I was truly, without a doubt, scared shitless.
This man, the one in front of me—so different from the man who laughed in the shower—is what I expected from the drug lord I heard rumors about. Horrible rumors of unspeakable acts of violence. A ruthless man to be respected and feared.
Boss pressed the length of his half-naked body against me, and growled, teeth glinting behind curled lips. “That’s the second time you turned your back on me after mouthing off. I’m only going to say this once more, Miri, so listen carefully.” He lowered his head and his breath ghosted across my neck. I shuddered and a whimper escaped my throat, the result of a horrifying combination of lust and fear. “You are my guest. You snuck onto my property and you’re goddamn lucky I didn’t let Milo shoot you on sight. No, I saved you, took your ass in, gave you your fucking heroin, and washed a couple weeks’ worth of filth and scum off of you using my very expensive body wash that, incidentally, I never share with anyone. I expect you to be grateful for my hospitality and treat me with some goddamn motherfucking respect, got it?” His hands tightened around my arms incrementally as he spoke. His message was quite clear as his touch became more and more painful. I knew his thick fingers would leave bruises on my pale, fragile skin.
Legs shaking, I nearly pissed myself when faced with the lethal side of this man.
“I want to hear you say you understand, Miri.” Boss let go and stepped back until his eyes bored holes into me from beneath heavy brows.
Filled with terror, my heart pounded and my breath caught in my lungs, rendering me speechless. His eyes narrowed, not happy with my silence. Somehow, I managed to choke out two words.
“I-I understand.”


Meet Heather C. Leigh
heather c leigh bio.jpg

Heather C. Leigh is the author of the Amazon best selling Famous series. She likes to write about the 'dark' side of fame. The part that the public doesn't get to see, how difficult it is to live in a fishbowl and how that affects relationships.

Heather was born and raised in New England and currently lives outside Atlanta, GA with her husband, 2 kids, and French Bulldog, Shelby.

She loves the Red Sox, the Patriots, and anything chocolate (but not white chocolate, everyone knows it's not real chocolate so it doesn't count) and has left explicit instructions in her will to have her ashes snuck into Fenway Park and sneakily sprinkled all over while her family enjoys beer, hot dogs, and a wicked good time.

My favorite authors are Dan Wells, Ken Follett, and Stephen King.


$25 Amazon Gift Card

a Rafflecopter giveaway

No comments:

Post a Comment