Reader's Edyn: Blitz: Machiavellian (Gangsters of New York #1) by Bella Di Corte + GIVEAWAY

**Machiavellian by Bella Di Corte**

Good Morning, Everyone! So thrilled to see you all today! Not too long ago, I had this author on the blog talking about this very book with the cover release! Today she is back and speaking about the fact that the book is now available. Yay! Please allow me to re-introduce to the blog, Bella Di Corte and her release MACHIAVELLIAN …

**BELLA DI CORTE**

**BIO**

Bella Di Corte has been writing romance for seven years, even longer if you count the stories in her head that were never written down, but she didn’t realize how much she enjoyed writing alphas until recently. Tough guys who walk the line between irredeemable and savable, and the strong women who force them to feel, inspire her to keep putting words to the page.

Apart from writing, Bella loves to spend time with her husband, daughter, and family. She also loves to read, listen to music, cook meals that were passed down to her, and take photographs. She mostly takes pictures of her family (when they let her) and her three dogs.

Bella grew up in New Orleans, a place she considers a creative playground.

She loves to connect with readers, so don’t hesitate to email her at belladicorte@gmail.com if you’d like to reach out.

To find out more about Ms. Di Corte, please visit:

**MACHIAVELLIAN**

Publication date: May 8, 2020

Series: Gangsters of New York #1
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

**BLURB**

hungered to be seen.

There were three things I knew about Capo Macchiavello:

He was gorgeous.

He was reclusive.

He was considered one of New York’s most savage animals.

And he wanted me as his wife. A simple arrangement – you do for me, I do for you. Nothing owed, no expectations. Except for one: never leave.

Life was never that simple, though. By the age of twenty-one, I was parentless, jobless, and homeless, and I had come to learn the hard way that nothing was ever free. Even kindness comes with strings.

Capo might’ve been the only man to ever see me, but I had made a vow to myself: I would never owe anyone anything. Most of all, the man I called boss.

I killed to stay hidden.

Mariposa Flores thought she owed nothing to no one, but she owed everything…to me, the ghost the world had once called The Machiavellian Prince of New York.

Machiavellian is the first of three books set in the savage world of the Gangsters of New York series.

**EXCERPT **

I shrugged, the white button-down shirt tugging at my shoulders. “Some things are not worth trading in, no matter how old they are.” I pointed to the building we were slowing in front of. “We’re home, Mariposa.”

“Home,” she repeated, turning to face the window. “You live next to a fire station! Sweet. That’ll come in handy when I cook you dinner.” She became quiet as Giovanni hit a button on the dash and the garage door lifted. “You own this entire building?”

“Mmhm.”

“It’s not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“The bat cave?”

“How do you know about the bat cave?”

“Keely’s brothers. I was over once when they watched that movie.”

I gave a low laugh, burying the thought of Harry Boy further down. “Not a place shiny enough to blind you?”

Why did the fucker still affect my words?

She narrowed her eyes at me. “No, I just thought…something in Manhattan. A penthouse.” Then she grinned, my words sinking in. “Still, this is far from a paper house.”

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house down.”

“The big bad wolf dressed in a fine Italian suit.” She touched my hand, her fingers as soft as her lips, where the wolf tattoo seemed to snarl underneath the lights of the garage. “I should’ve known.”

Her eyes drifted to my lips, then back up to my eyes, and when she couldn’t hold my stare any longer, she started to fiddle with my tie. Nervous hands, like flitting wings.

I stood and turned toward the mirror. I watched him walk closer from behind. He stopped when he was at my back. I could feel the heat from his body through the dress.

He moved my hair to the side, and then he helped me lower the top of the gown. My fancy white adhesive bra glowed against my skin. He kissed the nape of my neck, watching me as he did, and then his fingers barely caressed my arms.

“Butterflies have least favorite colors when it comes to flowers. Do you know what they are?” His voice was low, almost hoarse.

“No,” I whispered. A shiver waved over me from his constant touch, his gravelly voice, and it made me tremble.

“Ti piace la mia bocca sulla tua pelle. Tremi per me.” He said the words almost to himself, something about me liking his mouth on my skin, me trembling for him. Then, smoothly, he brought us back to his comment about the butterfly. “Blue to green.”

My eyes lifted to meet his. Blue to hazel.

“Good thing I’m not a real butterfly then, or maybe I would’ve taken the warning the first time I saw your eyes and flew away to something lighter.”

“Good thing.” He ran his tongue from my nape to the center of my back, and then trailed firm kisses on his way back up. His hands moved to my hips, and he moved us slowly. “If you only knew the thoughts I’ve had of you since the night at The Club, the fantasies, you would’ve run away.”

“No,” I said, sucking in a trembling breath, releasing it slowly. “Now that I’ve found you, I can’t fly away. I’m attracted to blue—all shades. It’s my favorite color. It seems to heal me, not hurt me.”

Slowing, breathing heavy, I turned and walked backwards, my hands held up in surrender. “Don’t do it,” I whispered. “Think this through. Remember. You’re more man than animal. You have more than basic needs.”

That Machiavellian smile came to his face. “You should know better, Mariposa. You should always think before you act. When it comes to you, I’m all animal.”

“Hungry wolf,” I whispered.

“What about the hungry wolf?”

“That’s how you’re looking at me.”

“You’re wrong.”

“If I am, it’s not by much.”

He howled softly and then grinned. “I’ll never get the taste of you off of my tongue, and I’m starving. I crave you, being inside of you, like I’ve never craved anything in my life.”

Our eyes connected. It lasted for only a few seconds in time, but to me, the moment seemed to span a lifetime. Something moved between us, and I wasn’t sure what it was, only that it felt stronger than it ever had before. It consumed me like the most beautiful ocean, and then wrote his initials on my soul.