Angel Face: My Boys Series

By Amarinda Jones

As Ignatius put the key into the lock, the door swung open with no effort from himself. He knew it had been locked before he left. “Not a good sign,” he muttered under his breath. Last time that had happened he’d ended up in hospital for a two days recovering from a beating he’d received from an unknown gang of men. Ignatius still didn’t know what that was about but it had made him wary yet not scared. Just ready for anything. He stood still and assessed the situation.
Ignatius fisted the key ready to fight whoever came at him. The shop was not in a pleasant area of town. Tattoo parlors rarely ever were. Other then the odd yuppy looking for a thrill by doing something forbidden, most of his clientele had lived life and had no delusions or pretensions about it. Ink to them was a way of life. It meant something. It distinguished them as different from other people.
Ignatius scanned the store. Nothing looked different. He sniffed the air. Perfume. Thick, rich and sexy. His last female client had been Paula. Perfume didn’t last that long. “Come out and I won’t hurt you.”
“How do I know that?” responded a female voice.
“I don’t hurt women.” Ignatius looked toward where the sound was coming from. Whoever she was she was hiding behind the front counter.
“How do I know that?” she repeated.
Good point. She didn’t. “You don’t.” But he did. Ignatius would never touch a woman in anger. “You can’t hide all night. I know you’re behind the counter.”
“What do you plan to do?”
“Depends what I find.” Ignatius was streetwise enough to know if this was a working girl off the street trying to avoid her pimp, she would no doubt be armed with some weapon to fend off her handler and any other amorous client.
“I could easily kick your ass.”
That made Ignatius laugh. He was six foot four and muscle-bound. If she was seven foot tall and built like a brick shithouse than maybe she could. But then people with muscles rarely wore perfume. “How do you figure that?”
“I have powers.”
“Oh yeah, what sort?”
“Heavenly.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scarlet Harlot Publishing
• Release date: Dec 19, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465845306

Amarinda Jones

Amarinda Jones believes anything is possible and sometimes just asking for the impossible will surprise someone enough that they will give it to you. Writing is like that. Put it out there and wait for a response. There is always the possibility you may fall on your arse, but after all, that's what cellulite is for. Amarinda believes in taking chances, speaking her mind and aging disgracefully. Twenty years from now she plans on being the neighborhood witch that all the kids are scared of. But then, everyone has to have a hobby.

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Published by Amarinda Jones at Smashwords

www.amarindajones.com

Copyright© 2012 Amarinda Jones

Cover Artist: Amarinda Jones

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Angel Face

Chapter One

Ignatius stood before the door to his tattoo shop. The wedding of Patrick and Hardy was on his mind. It’d stirred up feelings in Ignatius he’d deliberately buried months ago. Marriage was not for him nor was love. Been there and done that, he muttered to himself searching his jeans pocket for the keys. Fucking Severin. Literally. Just thinking of the biker chick with the untamed shock of long magenta hair made his heart pound and his dick tighten with need. She was a head case. Stubborn. Perverse. Wild. But sex with Severin? Red hot. There was no other word to describe it. They had almost worn each other out. Ignatius smiled to himself at the memory. It had been a crazy and hot two weeks when she rode into his life on her Harley Davidson and turned his word upside down. One smoldering look from her and he’d mistaken intense lust for something else. She never had. But that was Severin. She was cool, calm and she kept her feelings to herself. There was a time when Ignatius believed he was in love with her. But Severin had scotched that.

"You’re sweet but I’ll ruin you," she said stepping back from him.

Ignatius’ hand reached out for Severin. Maybe I want to be ruined.

She smiled as if the idea appealed to her. That would be fun but I know you have someone more important than me coming into your life.

"But I love you."

"Ain’t it always the way." Severin sighed deeply then turned and walked away.

Her leaving had hit Ignatius hard. He’d searched for her but word was she had gotten on her Harley and ridden straight out of town. He’d also heard she’d been crying. That he doubted. Severin’s heart was harder than her head and that was rock-hard. Still, Ignatius wondered where she was. Some man’s got his work cut out for him with her.

His mind went back to the wedding. If Ignatius was honest he would’ve admitted he wanted what Patrick and Hardy had found. Love. Deep, lightning fast but a true and sure commitment. He liked Hardy. She was fun and hot and if invited again, he would like to share her body with Patrick. That’s what he and his friends did. They shared each other’s women. There was no rivalry between the four men. They understood sex for what it was. Enjoyment. Bonding. Fun. And the women? Beautiful and accommodating. Sex was only wrong if you didn’t enjoy it.

Ignatius shook his head. Focus, man. He had work to do. Drawings for clients did not happen without effort. What they wanted inked on their body, Ignatius took very seriously. Tattoos were a statement as to where someone was in their life. Ignatius knew that only too well. His own body was a mass of dark, intense tribal patterns that defined who he was as a person. Complicated. Hidden. Protected. Not many people realized that every inked line on skin protected that person from harm. As for his own heavily colored skin? It had saved his ass in the past. Evil rarely approached him and if it did it was to see if he was a kindred spirit. Ignatius wasn’t. His job was to thwart evil. That’s why people came to him. They sensed he was open to the odd and the unusual.

As Ignatius put the key into the lock, the door swung open with no effort from himself. He knew it had been locked before he left. Not a good sign, he muttered under his breath. Last time that had happened he’d ended up in hospital for a two days