Excerpt Reveal~ Damnable Grace by Tillie Cole



Coming April 18th




EVEN THE BROKEN, THROUGH LOVE, CAN FIND GRACE...

Secrets never stay hidden.

The burden of guilt never lifts from the heart.

Born and raised in The Order of David, Sister Phebe knows nothing but cult life. Head of the Sacred Sisters of New Zion, Phebe was groomed from childhood for one purpose: to seduce. Prized as a harlot, as a New Zion whore, Phebe is taken from the doomed cult by Meister, the notorious leader of the Aryan Brotherhood. Taken as his possession. Taken to be the woman who will obey his every sexual demand. Under his heavy hand, Phebe finds herself in a place much worse than she could ever have imagined... with absolutely no one to help. And no glimpse of hope.

Xavier ā€˜AKā€™ Deyes is content with his life as Sergeant-At-Arms of the Hades Hangmen. Leader of the infamous ā€˜Psycho Trioā€™ and ex-special ops sniper, AK knows how to fight. Experienced in warfare and schooled in military operations, AK is vital to the Hangmen. When his Vice President needs help retrieving his missing sister-in-law, Phebe, from a Klan-funded trafficking ring, AK volunteers to go in. AK remembers the redhead from New Zion. Remembers everything about her from the single time they metā€”her red hair, blue eyes and freckled face. But when he finds her, heavily drugged and under Meisterā€™s control, her sorry condition causes him to remember more than the beautiful woman he once tied to a tree. Saving Phebe forces hidden demons from his past to return. A past he can never move on from, no matter how hard he tries.

As AK fights to help Phebe, and in turn she strives to help him, they realize their secret sins will never leave them alone. Kindred broken souls, they realize the only way they can be rid of their ghosts is to face them together and try to find peace.

Despair soon turns to hope, and damaged hearts soon start to heal. But when their deep, painful scars resurface, becoming too much to bear, the time comes when they must make a heavy choice: stay forever damned; or together, find grace.

Dark Contemporary Romance. Contains explicit sexual situations, violence, disturbingly sensitive and taboo subjects, offensive language and very mature topics. Recommended for age 18 and over.





ā€œWell?ā€ Ky asked.
Tanner ran his hand over his head. The brother hadnā€™t attended one of our cookouts or slutfests in weeks. Not that he ever entertained himself with slutsā€”still too hard for his piece of pussy down in Mexico. Heā€™d been busy trying to track down Meister. Unlike most of the white-power shit Tanner and Tank grew up with, this Meister was untraceable and off the grid. As much of a computer whizz kid as Tanner was, Meister was proving to be one slippery fucking snake to pin down.
ā€œGotta be honest, I didnā€™t think I was anywhere close to finding anything on this prick.ā€ Tanner nodded toward Tank. ā€œWe knew of him, of course. I knew he had dealings with my father and uncle, just never met him myself. Heā€™s Aryan Brotherhood, but works closely with the Klan. And thereā€™s nothing on him. No email traces, no invoices, no texts. Nothing.ā€
I gritted my teeth and glanced at Styx, who was listening closely. Ky wasnā€™t originally gonna tell the prez about the plan to get Phebe, because of his fucking wedding, but that didnā€™t last long. Styx knew something was up with his VP. He read him like I read Flame and Vike. So Ky fessed up, and Styx was all for the plan. Heā€™d had to push his wedding back by a month anyhow to get the pastor Mae wanted to conduct the ceremony, so he had time to kill.
ā€œBut you found something?ā€ Ky translated as Styx signed.
Tanner sighed, the black circles around his eyes showing how hard the brother had been working. ā€œI got something.ā€ He shook his head, and my blood ran cold. I knew whatever he had found wasnā€™t good.
Tanner opened the file in front of him and threw a photograph toward the prez. Styx looked at it, then gave it to Ky. ā€œSome middle-of-nowhere ghost town?ā€
Ky passed the picture around. Vike handed it to me, and I studied it. It was an aerial shot, and the picture was grainy, but from what I could make out, it was just a huge piece of land scattered with decrepit old buildings.
I passed the picture along. ā€œFucker owns this?ā€
Tanner faced me. ā€œYeah, or at least his father did. Heā€™s dead now, but the deeds are still in his fatherā€™s name. Been in the family for decades. Took me a while to trace it.ā€ He shook his head. ā€œMeister is notorious among the Klan. Right, Tank?ā€
ā€œYeah,ā€ Tank agreed. ā€œNever met him either, but weā€™d all heard of him. Prick has been mobilizing for years for the race war they think is coming. Real serious, Oklahoma-City-bomb shit. From what weā€™ve heard, the guy has a one-track mind when it comes to advancing the white race. You think Hitler was fucked up? Well, imagine if he had a kid who was one built motherfucker, with a fucking carbon copy of his psycho mind; and youā€™ve got Meister. Fucker ainā€™t even German. Just wishes he was, spouting German phrases around like heā€™s born and bred Berlin. Delusional asshole.ā€
ā€œThis ainā€™t gonna be easy,ā€ Tanner finished, looking at me, Vike, Flame, Hush and Cowboy. It was the five of us who had agreed to go looking for Phebe. Hush and Cowboy nodded at me to let me know they were still in.
ā€œSo heā€™s in this ghost town?ā€ Ky asked, translating Styxā€™s sign language again. ā€œIf so, weā€™ll all just go in and get him, make the fucker talk and tell us where heā€™s got Phebe.ā€
Tanner sat forward. ā€œHe ainā€™t just living in the ghost town or hiding out. Thatā€™s where he has his enterprise.ā€
ā€œEnterprise?ā€ Ky echoed. It was his own question this time.
Tanner nodded. ā€œFrom what I can tell, itā€™s a fucking brothel. Members of the Aryan Brotherhood, Klan, or Klan sympathizers, can go there for a night or a few days at a time.ā€ Tank shifted uncomfortably next to him. ā€œAinā€™t sure, but Iā€™m thinking it ainā€™t just getting your dick sucked and fucked. Itā€™ll be real fucked-up shit. If Meisterā€™s reputation is anything to go by, we would be walking into an organized, armed hellhole.ā€ Tannerā€™s eyes darkened. ā€œI get the Klan has a reputation for being full of backward rednecks. I ainā€™t gonna lieā€”growing up, most of my fatherā€™s cronies were that way. Thick as fuck and couldnā€™t do shit without screwing it up. Skinheads, lower-ranked soldiers, you know?ā€
ā€œBut there were some members that werenā€™t,ā€ Tank continued. He cast an embarrassed glance at Tanner. ā€œWe werenā€™t, for starters.ā€
Tanner nodded. ā€œItā€™s not the norm, but some of us were good. Smart, strong fighters, or just outright fucking psychos. The skinheads and rednecks are the foot soldiers. The likes of us, the likes of Meister, are the fucking SS. The planners, leaders, the generalsā€”the ones who believe in the cause so much that theyā€™re fucking lethal with what theyā€™ll do, what theyā€™re capable of. Meister is true Aryan Brotherhood; heā€™s preparing for war. Heā€™s the real fucking deal.ā€
ā€œAnd now heā€™s in our neck of the woods to stir up shit?ā€ I asked.
Tanner nodded. ā€œComes from northern Texas. Never moved our way before. But the Klan are building day by day, joining forces with other white supremacist gangsā€”like the Brotherhoodā€”and with the shit thatā€™s on the news twenty-four-seven, blacks and whites at each others throats, heā€™s moved to the headquarters.ā€ The brotherā€™s jaw clenched. ā€œTo my father and uncle, whoā€™ll be protecting him from being found out by the feds.ā€ He sighed and ran his hand down his face. ā€œFrom what I can figure out, this ghost-town brothel of his has only existed in the last year or so. Heā€™s looking to fund something.ā€
ā€œThey ainā€™t dealing guns?ā€ Cowboy drawled. ā€œI thought thatā€™s what Rider said the contract with the cult was for?ā€
ā€œRider was sure it was guns. At least it was when he was dealing with the Klanā€”it was all about arms. The Klan was selling them on and taking a cut.ā€
ā€œHis fucking twin,ā€ Hush spat. ā€œHe changed the arrangement, didnā€™t he? When Rider was locked up in cult prison?ā€
ā€œThink so,ā€ Tanner said after a few seconds of silence.
ā€œThen what the fuck are they dealing? What was Judah giving them if not Israeli guns?ā€
ā€œWomen.ā€



Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish father and older sister and a multitude of rescue animals. As soon as she could, Tillie left her rural roots for the bright lights of the big city.

After graduating from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Religious Studies, Tillie followed her Professional Rugby player husband around the world for a decade, becoming a teacher in between and thoroughly enjoyed teaching High School students Social Studies before putting pen to paper, and finishing her first novel.

Tillie has now settled in Austin, Texas, where she is finally able to sit down and write, throwing herself into fantasy worlds and the fabulous minds of her characters.

Tillie is both an independent and traditionally published author, and writes many genres including: Contemporary Romance, Dark Romance, Young Adult and New Adult novels.

When she is not writing, Tillie enjoys nothing more than curling up on her couch watching movies, drinking far too much coffee, while convincing herself that she really doesnā€™t need that extra square of chocolate.


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