POLICY OF TRUTH EXCERPT 1
BY SCARLETT HOLLOWAY
Word Count – 106, 826
Genre – MC Romance
Violence Level
(Scale of 1 to 5, Five being the Highest) –
● 3 to 4
Heat Level (See Scale Below) –
● Highly Sensual - 3 (can include hot, frequent love scenes, standard for mainstream romance)
Excerpt (1-3 per book) –
Excerpt 1 –
A light drizzle was starting as a crack of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the parking lot as the man struck the girl across her face, sending her spinning to the ground.
Lace released an exasperated sigh and hung her head, hands on her hips.
“Lace?” Durty’s voice cracked in sheer anger as the man pulled back his leg, kicking the girl in her ribs as she laid there, a cry of pain echoing in the night.
“Go.”
That was all she needed. Her sisters had her back, but she had doubts she was going to need their help. Durty was next to the male before he knew what hit him. Not a single thought went through her head as she faced the man—or was it her past?
Seeing the man strike the girl, who was cradled in Curby’s arms, was enough to send her reeling into the past and her ex taking out his bad day on her.
Not. Gonna. Happen.
Durty grabbed the man by his forearm and spun him around to face her. “Did that make you feel like a real man? Huh? Did your little prick get hard thinking you’re so strong?”
“Who the fuck are you?” He jerked his arm away, baring his un-brushed snarl at her, flashing the full effect of his moldy teeth.
Oh joy. A meth-head.
Curby and Stellar scrambled to get the wounded girl up and out of the way. It wasn’t going to be this asshole’s day.
Durty flashed her own, much whiter snarl his way. “As cliché as it sounds, you dumbass, piece of shit motherfucker, I’m your worst fucking nightmare.”
“A woman.” He chuckled. “Yeah right. What you gonna do to me, huh? Tickle me to death?” He stepped one inch too far into her personal space. Lifting his hand, he took a hold of one of the auburn waves of hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “Or maybe…” He pumped his brows as he ran his filthy finger down her throat toward her chest. “Just maybe, I’ll just have to lick you to death, hmmm?”
Excuse her while she puked a little in her mouth. Bile rose up her throat as the creep tried to get all sexy with her. She gagged it back down and swatted away his hand.
Angrily, he snapped. “Don’t touch me, fucking whore.” The man reached toward her face as he spoke once more. “I’ll teach you some manners.”
Durty growled as she stepped toward him, grabbing his right hand with her left, squeezing the thumb pad and twisting his hand back away from him in a wrist lock. As he cried out, in a mixture of shock and pain, Durty swung her right fist directly into his Adam’s apple, sending him careening to the ground on his back
Lighting tore across the desert sky as he lay coughing and choking, clutching his throat.
“You bitch!” The girl screeched at Durty, trying to wrestle free of the hold she was in. “Leave him alone!”
Durty laughed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Cutting her glance away from the sprawled-out male, her attention diverted to the she-bitch yowling at her. “You’re not a punching bag, believe it or not. You’ll thank us later.”
The male staggered to his feet, lurching toward her.
He missed.
Durty was fucking with him now, dodging his feeble attempts to grab her.
“Quit playing with your meal, Durty, and just get your fill so we can get her out of here.” Lace sighed.
“Fine.” Durty pouted as she took a hold of his wrist once more when he made another feeble attempt to lunge at her. She easily swatted him on the back of the head, and then planted her right foot square on his ass and gave it a nice shove, sending him tumbling to his knees on the parking lot gravel, backhanding the male as he made another attempt at grabbing her.
Durty straddled the man to put him in a choke hold, but yelped in surprise as she was tackled off him, rolling on the wet asphalt. “What the hell?” she yelled in confusion as Curby ran over to yank the hell-cat off her. “Are you fucking crazy?”
She scrambled to her feet to slap some sense into the girl, but Lace’s voice, filled with venom, stopped her in her tracks. “Move your hand away from the gun.”
The male reached for a gun in his waist-band, but by his now swelling cheek bone, Durty could only assume Lace kicked him in the face to protect her. The heel of Lace’s boot, with a spur on it, was at the base of the male’s throat, the sharp edges of the wheel digging into the flesh of his neck.
The man refused, forcing Lace to press harder with her heel, an edge pricking the skin of his throat. The trickle of blood must’ve been the trigger because he moved his hand away from the butt of the gun.
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GR: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/41611607-policy-of-truth
