Jack L. Pyke, is without a doubt one of our most anticipated authors here at Sinfully, in our humble opinion, she is the mistress of dark erotic romance, an exceptionally gifted author who somehow manages to captivate you and hold you hostage from the very first page. So we are delighted, and feel incredibly privileged to be able to bring you the cover of her latest novel Broken Ink. It’s due for release on the 9th December, so mark your diaries and give yourself an early Christmas present… you won’t be disappointed!
A word from Jack L. Pyke
Thank you for letting me lift the skirt on Broken Ink’s cover, Monique!
Cover art’s always gets an author’s adrenaline going, but I’ve got to admit, this one had me hitting that “Hell yes” note seeing this one come to life. I can give a little guider on the page as to what Kiyen and Fal look like in Broken Ink (black hair... blond...), but as with readers who imprint their personal look on a character, to then have an artist take that and weave her magic and interpretation, it’s makes for something really special and personal when it’s brought to life like this. The artist hit spot-on with Kiyen and Fal, in my humble opinion. And for any who venture to read Broken Ink, I *bites nails* just hope the words do the cover justice!
Broken Ink by Jack L. Pyke
Release Date: December 9, 2014
Novel: Broken Ink
Author: Jack L. Pyke
Publisher: Fantastic Fiction Publishing
Genre: Dark Paranormal Erotic romance with BDSM
Length: Novel (112, 000 words)
Stolen and Stained.
Carrying a tattoo on your skin no longer just comes with a risk of infection. Get the composition right, you have the latest mind-control drug on the market. It’s the sex-traders’ dream, or worst nightmare, depending on the concentrated dose of the ink—and just who’s wearing it.
For Kiyen, the ink means he’s able to strip raw the minds of the best and worst of society. He’s one of MI7’s top killers and never more driven to select and take down a target. For Falen, the ink has ensured he’s spent his early years as a willing sex slave and low-grade empath. Hiding out in a small town and trying to bury the needs running through his body, Fal’s hoping to stay under the radar of MI7 and their specialist killers. But the ink itself has a mind of its own, wanting to ignite the natural dynamics driving a Dom and sub, so when Kiyen is forced into Fal’s small world, prejudice battles a pure need to touch. Only problem is: Kiyen’s on the run, and in a world where thought can be the worst crime of all, Fal’s in for a fight for his sanity to find out just what it is that’s making a young killer run for his life. (M/M)
He couldn’t get his head around this shit.
The acrid sting of smoke touched the back of Kiyen’s throat, almost forcing him to roll choking cough after choking cough off his chest. Hidden in the darkness of the room, the locked door behind him muted the screams from outside, leaving the thick smoke that had filtered under the rim to do little more than curl and twist around his body. No windows offered any release. Cries for help from outside sounded more like a warped CD in the smoke, sometimes low and hollow, others high and piercing, yet all adding to the sound of feet pounding polished concrete. People panicked, screamed—but ran with the natural instinct to get out and survive.
Standing and looking into the wardrobe mirror, Kiyen just fought the need to fuck with the heat playing over his body.
There were no short-term memories, nothing to tell him how he’d gotten here, why he was facing a mirror when he should be kicking the shit out of the door to get free like most Normals. Smoke filled his lungs, and closing his eyes, he forced his head and hands against the cool surface of the mirror. Hips came in next, a press of hard cock against cold glass to stop a build-up of pressure that left him shaking.
The feel of the mirror niggled at the back of his mind, how the glass shouldn’t be cold but lukewarm under his touch. As he stretched his hands out, ice played like wet silk under his fingers. Broken fingernails made small, slow circles, and crystals followed in the wake of his touch, adding a light winter sound of ice splintering in the darkness. He let a slight smile touch his lips as he tilted his head to see the ice trails chase playfully after him. Part of him wanted to bolt, to push away as the need to run purified his insides, but then there was that deeper need, that darker instinct to—
“Stay and burn for me, Yen.”
Cold fingers drifted across his abdomen, and Kiyen pushed harder against the mirror, loving how the worst part of him heated from his cock upwards.
Yeah, he’d stay for this bastard. Damn his soul. He’d burn.
“What the hell are you doing to me, Connor?” he managed to whisper, his cold breath frosting the mirror. This wasn’t how First Inks played together, this wasn’t how he and Connor played together; Connor spread his legs to be fucked. Simple. Or at least that’s how he remembered this shit going down.
Meet Jack L. Pyke
Jack blames her dark writing influences on living close to one of England’s finest forests. Having grown up hearing a history of kidnappings, murders, strange sightings, and sexual exploits her neck of the woods is renowned for, Jack takes that into her writing, having also learned that human coping strategies for intense situations can sometimes make the best of people have disastrously bad moments. Redeeming those flaws is Jack’s drive, and if that drive just happens to lead to sexual tension between two or more guys in a D/s relationship, Jack’s the first to let nature take its course.