Blogaversay Day 28 - Read 2 chapters from Rachel Van Dyken's new book Enforce

Elite (Eagle Elite #1)
by Rachel Van Dyken
Publisher: Forever
Release Date: July 9th 2013
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For Tracey Rooks, life with her grandparents on a Wyoming farm has always been simple. But after her grandmother's death, Tracey is all her grandfather has. So when Eagle Elite University announces its annual scholarship lottery, Tracey jumps at the opportunity to secure their future and enters. She isn't expecting much-but then she wins. And life as she knows it will never be same . . .

The students at Eagle Elite are unlike any she's ever met . . . and they refuse to make things easy for her. There's Nixon, gorgeous, irresistible, and leader of a group that everyone fears: The Elect. Their rules are simple. 1. Do not touch The Elect. 2. Do not look at The Elect. 3. Do not speak to The Elect. No matter how hard she tries to stay away, The Elect are always around her and it isn't long until she finds out the reason why they keep their friends close and their enemies even closer. She just didn't realize she was the enemy -- until it was too late.

Elect (Eagle Elite #2)
by Rachel Van Dyken
Release Date: December 10th 2013
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Would you die for the one you love?

Nixon Abandonato made his choice. And now he has to pay the price. Tracey is the love of his life, but being with him has made her a target of his family's enemies. The only way to keep Trace alive is convince the world she means nothing to him. 

Trace Rooks has fallen irrevocably in love with the son of her family's sworn rival, and she knows in her bones nothing can tear them apart. Until Nix suddenly pushes her away and into the arms of his best friend... But Trace isn't ready to give up on a future with Nix--and if he won't fight for them, she will. 

In the end, a sacrifice must be made. A life for a life. For what better way to cover a multitude of sins than with the blood of a sinner...

Entice (Eagle Elite #3)
by Rachel Van Dyken
Release Date: May 13th 2014
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From #1 New York Times Bestselling author Rachel Van Dyken comes the third book in the bestselling Eagle Elite Series...

“As burns this saint, so burns my soul. I enter alive, and I will have to get out dead.”

Chase Winter let the love of his life slip through his fingers and into the hands of his best friend and mafia boss of the Abandanato family. Now that he's been given a second chance to right a wrong--he refuses to let his own selfishness stand in the way. The only problem? He's not fully in possession of his heart, so when Mil De Lange, the girl who's innocence he stole, and heir to the worst of the worst mafia families in the US, asks him for a favor. He actually says yes, not realizing that that one yes has the power to destroy them all. 

Mil's been in love with Chase as long as she can remember, but as the years went by, the love turned to hate, and now that he's agreed to help her, she's wondering if she made a fatal error. Because Chase isn't a teenager anymore. He's a hot blooded male, bent on owning every part of her body and soul, and willing to kill anyone in his path who dares stand in the way. 
It's time for secrets to finally be revealed...but make no mistake, it's going to take a lot of bloodshed for those truths to be discovered.

You've never read a New Adult Mafia story like this before...loyalties will be tested, lovers reunited, and friendships obliterated. Welcome to the Family. Blood in--No out.

Read two chapter from Enforce, the Eagle Elite Novella coming December 2014 that tells Elite from Nixon and Chase's point of view.

by Rachel Van Dyken


   You want me to do what?!
            “Get. In. The. Damn. Car. Now!” I snapped, my palms started to sweat as I jerked the door open and got in. Shit. Sometimes cops were such idiots. Thanks genius for just telling everyone within the good ol US of A my exact location. Really, solid guy. I should send him a cake or something.
            I had two guns with me.
            One shotgun under the backseat.
            And my trusty old Colt 1911 under my own seat.
            “Shit.” I mumbled again. If they trapped us, if we didn’t make it back to campus…
            It wasn’t just the De Langes that could be after us but every other freaking assassin who had a hit out one me or one of my family members. I had enemies, a lot of them. And a lot of them wanted me dead. Most of the time I had protection with me so this was about to get loads more interesting.
            I put the SUV in drive and sped towards campus.
            Trace looked out the window, silent, probably confused, pissed. I reached across the consul and grabbed her hand.
            “Hey,” I squeezed, and maintainted a calm voice, “I’m sorry about…” I released her hand and hit the steering wheel. Why couldn’t anything be normal? I’d wanted to be a normal guy for her. Take her on a normal date. Have a normal make out session where visions of guns and blood didn’t dance through my head. “Damn, I’m just sorry I freaked out. But we needed to get out of there.” Yeah that wasn’t vague as hell.
            “But it’s your property.” She argued in a shaky voice.
            “Which the cop had no problem explaining to his other little friends who were out patrolling tonight.” Little friends who worked for other families, who carried out tasks for my enemies and who would stop at nothing to shoot at me if I was alone.
            “Whatever.” Trace grumbled, biting her lip and crossing her arms. “I don’t even know why that matters. Why would you care? Its’ not as if they were going to come watch us make out too!”
            Her blush was freaking adorable.
            I burst out laughing, “I wasn’t worried about them Trace.” I could care less if I stripped naked in front of strangers—as long as she was in my arms. I seriously had no shame. I was a mafia boss—embarrassment wasn’t an emotion I practiced.
            “I don’t understand.”
            “Protecting.” I said honestly, “I promised to protect you, right?”
            She finally looked at me and nodded.
            “So trust me. What im doing right now? This is me trying my damndest to protect you. Okay?”
            “Yelling at me and ordering me around is protecting me?”
            Well when she put it that way I sounded like some grouchy old bastard.
            “I said,” I pinched the bridge of my nose, “I said I was sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t’ have been so rude, but we needed to get out of there, like fast.”
            She was silent again.
            Irritated, I clenched the wheel with both hands and finally started to see some of the city lights. Good, no tails—yet.
            I turned the corner and then looked in the rearview mirror again.
            Well damn it all to hell.
            Trace moved in her seat to look. I slammed her back against th seat with my arm, “Don’t look.”
            “Nixon,” Her lower lip quivered, “What aren’t you telling me?”

            Oh you know…just about everything.

            I took a hard right, trying to lose the tail, “Nothing you need to know…yet.”
            Shit they were still following us.
            “Um Nixon. Nixon..The car behind us, they have guns. Nixon they have guns.”
            No shit, they also had a few semi automatic weapons but to name every piece of ammunition they had just seemed pointless.
            “Shit.” I reached for my gun. “Trace, I need you to lay low. Can you do that? Just lean down in your seat, alright sweetheart?” I was staring to sweat. She leaned down in her seat as I took another right and then pointed the gun out the window and started shooting.    
            The guy behind me shot directly for my hand, missing me and hitting the window, Thank God.
            I brought my arm back in and stole a glance to my right. “Trace, how are ya holding up? Talk to me, Trace.” I said in a smooth an calculated voice. I wasn’t afraid for me---but for her.
            “I’m…Fantastic.” She said through clenched teeth. The SUV hit a bump, she let out a scream. The car behind us was trying to run us off the road.
            “Are they trying to kill us?” She shouted.
            Hell yes. “Possibly. I’m guessing they just want to see who I’m with and why I’d go to such lengths to hide you.” Because she was everything—the key to my salvation. They key to my soul. They weren’t touching her.  I’d die before I let anything happen.
            My mind was going a hundred miles a minute. We weren’t far from campus. It may come to a gun fight. I’d lose. It was just me. The guys wouldn’t’ get here in time, which meant I’d have to pull into an open lot, and tell her to run while I held them off.
            Five minutes, maybe six.
            And I’d be dead.
            She’d have to make good time. I hoped to God she was a runner, if it came to that—it’s the only thing that would keep her alive .
            The car behind me swerved. They must have had an idiot driving. I smiled in triumph.
            “Why are you smiling?” Traces voice was bordering on hysteria.
            My smile grew. One mile to the school. “Because we’re almost to campus. They know we’re on our way and no chance in hell  are those guys coming within a hundred feet of the place. We’re almost there sweetheart.” We may just make it through after all.
            The car jolted again. My poor Range Rover was going to be scratched to hell.
            Trace let out another scream.
            I kind of liked it.
            As in, if we were in a totally different situation and she was screaming—you know beucase I was making her scream, I could come to really like that sound coming out of her mouth.
            “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh!” Her eyes squeezed shut and then she shouted, “I’m going to die a virgin!”
            “What?” I roared. Holy shit. She was a virgin? I’d guessed, but hearing her say it out loud. I should have been horrified—instead. I was amused, pleased as hell, feeling a bit prideful that it would be me nobody else that would touch her for the first time. She didn’t want to die a virgin? Hell, I’d help with that. Sign me up.
            “I’m going to die a virgin!” She repeated, her voice raising higher and higher. “ I’m going to die without ever going overseas! I’ve never even been naked in front fo a man efore.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, “Oh my gosh! I’m never going to have kids! What if I want kids! What iff—“
            “Trace,” Interrupted.
            “Nixon!” She smacked me in the arm, “you hve to promise me that if we live through this—and that’s a giant if, considering we’re literally trapped between two death machiness—you have to take my virginity. Take it!”
            “Trace I don’t think this is the time to—“
            “Promise me, damn it!”
            Never in my life have I made a promise so fast—scratch that, it was a freaking vow. I’d take her virginity and when I was done I was going to take her overseas, then I was going to posess her over and over again until she forgot all about guns and car chases.
            “Crap, crap, crap!” She covered her face and started rocking back and forth.
            I pulled the car up to security and gave the guard a quick run down of what happened while Trace’s face turned about thirty different shades of red.
            She was silent the entire drive through Campus.
            With an amused sigh, I pulled her hands away from her face. She held on to herself with the cutest death grip ever.
            “Trace,” I whispered, my lips so close to hers I could almost taste her, “Are you okay?”
            She whimpered and then shivered, “No, I’m not okay! We could have died! Who were those people? Why did they have guns? Is it like this al the time when your’e out and abou tin public? What the hell, Nixon! I need answers.”
            And I needed her to change the subject. “As well as a volunteer.” My eye brows shot up in amusement.
            “Come again.”
            I burst out laughing at her confused look, “Yes.”
            “Yes, what?”
            “My answer.” I winked, “Just name the time and place. I’ll be there.” With freaking bells on. “It would be an honor.” She had no idea how serious I was. So she’d never been with a man before? Never let them look upon her naked perfection? Good. Because no man would ever see her, no man but me. “I mean I would love to be the one guy going into uncharted territory and..”
            “Shut up! Just shut up!” She coverd her face again and moaned. “oh my hell, I’m so embarrassed.”
            Pity because I was so turned on I couldn’t think straight.
            “Hey,” I nudged her, “That was a real bonding experience back there.” I gently pulled each finger from her face and kissed the inside of her wrist, “And don’t’ worry we’ll wait until you’re ready…” Or until I die from want. I may die first…
            “You’ll be waiting a long time.” That’s what I was afraid of.
            “It’s not like you didn’t.” I teased.
            Her eyes narrowed as she let out a little gasp. I took the opportunity with enthusiasm, crushing my mouth against hers with all the aggression that had built up over the past fifteen minutes.    
            I used my lips to convince her it was me—I was hers. It was a punishment—hell, to only kiss her, instead of taking her up on that promise right then and there.
            I reached around her body, tugging it closer to mine, as close as it would get with the consul between us. It would be so easy to lift her into my arms, to toss her in the backseat, to convince her that this was what she wanted—even though I knew it wasn’t what she deserved. My body screamed in frustration as her tongue swirled with mine.
            Her taste was my heaven.
            “Now is good too…” She surprised me by saying as she tugged my hair with her hands.
            Hell yes.
            I lifted her, slowly, hell I was a mafia boss. The straight and narrow? Moral compass? Yeah not in my vocabulary.
            I was going to wreck her for anyone else.
            And then my worst nightmare came true.
            The knocking was distant, and then it became louder. I pulled back and stared Frank Alfero down.
            His eyes narrowed.
            He opened his jacket and pointed at his gun.
            And I knew in that moment whatever fantasy I had created for me and Trace, whatever future I may have built up—was about to come crashing down at my feet.
            Funny, I always thought I’d die before I experienced heartbreak.
            And there I was…twenty-one years old, and feeling like my heart had just been ripped from my chest.
            He would take her from me.
            And this time—I wouldn’t survive it.

by Rachel Van Dyken


  The story of her…the moment it changed.
            Every person has a moment where time stands still.
            I’d just experienced mine. The funny part? I almost missed it. It was such a foreign feeling that I passed it off as having low blood sugar—being lethargic.
            Legs heavy, breathing labored, I walked across campus towards my car.
            The wind picked up, a few leaves danced around the grass, swirling at my feet. I looked up.
            She was walking towards me.
            My heart slammed in my chest.
            How was it possible that a person’s mere presence could render me speechless?
            Trace was wearing the boots I got her. She pulled her black leather jacket tight around her body and continued walking.
            Where the hell was her security? I’d left her in Nixon’s very capable hands for the past hour. And now she was alone.
            “Hey,” I called out, my voice low—hoarse.
            “Hey.” Her smile lit up my world, just like everything else she did. I could have sworn I felt calm around her—like a cloud of peace descended on the war raging inside of me.
            Visions of betrayal danced in my head as I watched her breathe in and out—having no idea that just the fact that she was breathing in the same air I was—was pushing me over the edge, making me want to chose. Making me want to force her to chose.
            Not that she had any idea there was a choice in the first place.
            That was the part that sucked. She didn’t know. She had no freaking idea that I was a man obsessed, deranged, sick for her.
            “Where’s Nixon?” I asked calmly.
            “Oh he’s picking me up in a few minutes.” She rolled her eyes, “I had to go grab more comfortable shoes anyways.”

            “Are you saying my boots suck?” I pretended to be offended and offered her my arm.

            Rolling her eyes, she looped her arm within mine and laughed, “No. You’re boots rock, come on, they’re original Wyns!”
            “Are you mocking me?”
            “Depends, you in a teasing mood or did you just get done shooting someone?”

            I laughed, “Yes and yes.”

            “Yes and yes?”
            “Im in a teasing mood,” I tilted my head towards her and winked, “And I didn’t just get done shooting someone but it’s entirely possible a knife was involved, lots of blood, boy violence, making a grown man cry, you know a typical day in the life of Chase.”
            “Well,” She sighed, “At least you arent’ making girls cry.”
            “Aw, honey, if they’re crying I can guarantee it’s not because they’re sad.”
            “Fear?” She guessed.
            “Pleasure.” I whispered, overstepping my boundries, scratch that, freaking jumping over the boundary and pulling her closer to my body so that we shared the same heat.
            Her eyebrows shot up, “If Nixon see’s you he’s going to threaten you again.”
            “Let me handle Nixon.” All teasing had left my voice.
            The smile fell from Trace’s face, “Are you okay?”
            No. I wasn’t okay. I was in pain. My heart cracked against my chest, hurting like hell. “I’m always okay.” I lied.
            “Chase…” Trace reached out and cupped my cheek. Her fingers scalded me—changed me from the inside out. “Is it getting to hard for you? To be my personal body guard? Nixon said something about—“
            Her voice died off.
            “What did the boss say?” I wrapped my arm around her and forced a smile.
            “That you…” She shook her head, “you know what nevermind. We’re friends right?”
            “The best of…” Another lie.
            “Good.” Her cheeks flushed, “Promise me something?”

            “Don’t ever leave without saying goodbye.”

            “Who says I’m leaving?” I stopped walking again and pulled her closer to me.
            “It’s just…” her eyes focused on the ground as she shrugged, “I’m not sure, I just get this weird feeling when I’m around you, like you’re five seconds away from losing it or just…leaving.”
            I loved her.
            I loved her.
            I loved her.
            I wondered how long I could hold it back before I ruined everything—before she was finally able to put the pieces of my giant ass puzzle together.
            “I’m not a jack ass, Trace. I would never leave you, defenseless, let alone without saying goodbye.”
            She exhaled, “Good.”
            “So what are you and Nixon gonna do?”
            “It’s a surprise.” Her face lit up, “But I have a sneaking suspicion it has to do with self defense, especially after the whole fiasco this morning.”
            The fiasco meaning, me pinning Trace against a mat and nearly losing my shit over the fact that we were flush against one another.
            “Ah, I see.” Because, I really did.
            “Anyways, it will be good to have some time alone.”
            “Yeah.” I sighed.
            Trace twirled a piece of hair raound her finger, and that’s when the second part of the moment happened, where I let my imagination run rampant with hope.
            I spent more time with her than he did.
            I loved her more—she just didn’t know it.
            I could protect her.
            I could save her.
            And in return—she’d save me.
            Right? Isn’t that how love worked?
            She bit down on her bottom lip as she looked up at the dorm and put her hand son her hips.
            I wondered if Nixon knew that was the stance she took when she was feeling lazy and not wanting to go up the stairs.
            I wondered if he knew that every time she nibbled her lower li pit meant she was thinking.
            I wondered if he was aware that Trace hated chipmunks but loved squirrels, or that she thought the color yellow was irritating, or that rain made her happy.
            These were the things I knew—I knew them by heart just like I knew her scent, her favorite things, and I hated that, even though he knew less, he owned her in a way I never would.
            “Well, I better go change.” Trace interrupted my thoughts, “Thanks, Chase.”
            The slow motion thing happened again—the moment. I didn’t pull back as she stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on my cheek.
            A half inch. And our lips would have been touching.
            I closed my eyes as her mouth lingered on my hot skin.
            When she pulled back, I almost cursed Nixon to hell and pushed her upa gains the brick wall.
            Instead, I let the moment pass.
            The second moment.
            The second moment in my time with Trace that I should have done something different.
            As I walked away---I realized, that’s all I’d been doing with her, walking in the opposite direction.
            But things were about to change.
            Because next time. I’d take full advantage, and Nixon would just have to fight. I’d make him fight, because I was tired of allowing him to win on default.
            No more moments would pass—I wouldn’t let them.
            If he wanted her…he was going to have to prove he loved her more than life itself—because I already knew I did. 

Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.

She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers!


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