Delicate Scars by Alta Hensley

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March 8, 2017 by Evelyn Summers

16403200_1338585886161633_1570101649165682639_oDelicate Scars by Alta Hensley
Series: standalone
Genre: contemporary
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Is it possible to pick that one defining moment in life that fucked you up? Can anyone look back on their life and pinpoint the exact minute it happened? I used to believe that I wasn’t fucked up. I had absolutely no reason to be.

Until I met him.

Axel Rye.

Yes.

He fucked me up.

He really fucked me up.

It all started so simply. I only wanted to write a book about the dark, gritty world of nightclubs, booze, drugs, and sex. I didn’t expect to be sucked in to the point where I could no longer see the light. But I became weak. Axel Rye made me weak.

He was wrong in every way. He was a drug dealer, a criminal, and someone your parents told you to stay away from. Yet, he became my drug, and I shook in need until my next fix.

I was delicate.

He was scarred.

But together…together we became delicate scars.

NOTE: this book is a greatly revised version of a previously released book no longer available titled Ruby Rose.

Purchase it

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA

Sneak peek

I wasn’t in the mood to be at Wicked or any club at all. It was the second time this week for this club, but the fourth time being out on a request by owner. Even the line of coke I snorted before entering the club wasn’t helping my mood of feeling forced like a god damned prisoner to be there. Request by owner meant I got paid for even walking through the doors. Treated like fucking royalty all because I walked on the dark side and played the sick game. I only mingled, shook hands and gave false hugs to strangers because I got paid to do it.

I got paid a lot.

Unlike my father who was famous for his music, I was famous for one thing: I was a drug dealer. Always having a constant supply of good shit caused me to be in high demand at every bar, club, and trendy restaurant in town. What once used to be very secretive, behind-closed-doors, and hush-hush had recently become very visible. There was no secret I dealt. After my last arrest and the media circus around my hearing, when it came to trendy drugs for the rich, the famous, and the cool kids, I was seen as the face of it. Media took hold of the idea, and the rest spiraled out of control. Being a bad boy was hot, and I was about as bad as they got right now. It was fucking nuts.

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