Ultime recensioni

venerdì 2 gennaio 2015

Raze - Tillie Cole



Title: RazeAuthor: Tillie ColeAge group: Mature new adultGenre: Dark contemporary romanceRelease date: 30th December 2014












To take back life, one must first face death...

One man stripped of his freedom, his morals...his life.

Conditioned in captivity to maim, to kill and to slaughter, prisoner 818 becomes an unremorseful, unrivaled and unstoppable fighter in the ring. Violence is all he knows. Death and brutality are the masters of his fate.

After years of incarceration in an underground hell, only one thought occupies his mind: revenge...bloody, slow and violent revenge.

Revenge on the man who lied.

Revenge on the man who wronged him.

Revenge on the man who condemned him and turned him into this: a rage-fueled killing machine. A monster void of humanity; a monster filled with hate.

And no one will stand in the way of getting what he wants.

One woman stripped of her freedom, her morals...her life.

Kisa Volkova is the only daughter of Kirill The SilencerVolkov, head of the infamous Triadbosses of New York's Russian Bratva. Her life is protected. In reality, its a virtual prison. Her fathers savage treatment of his rivals and his lucrative and coveted underground gambling ringThe Dungeonensures too many enemies lurk at their door.

She dreams to be set free.

Kisa has known only cruelty and loss in her short life. As manager of her fathers death match enterprise, only grief and pain fill her days. Her mafia boss father, in her world, rules absolute. And her fiancé, Alik Durov, is no better; the Dungeons five-time champion, a stone-cold killer, the treasured son of her fathers best friend, and her very ownand much resentedpersonal guard. Unrivaled in both strength and social standing, Alik controls every facet of Kisas life, dominates her every move; keeps her subdued and dead inside...then one night changes everything.

While working for her churchthe only reprieve in her constant surveillanceKisa stumbles across a tattooed, scarred, but stunningly beautiful homeless man on the streets. Something about him stirs feelings deep within her; familiar yet impossibly forbidden desires. He doesnt talk. Doesnt communicate with anyone. Hes a man beyond saving, and a man she must quickly forget...for both their sakes.

But when weeks later, out of the blue and to her complete surprise, hes announced as the replacement fighter in The Dungeon, Kisa knows shes in a whole lot of trouble. Hes built, ripped and lethally unforgiving to his opponents, leaving fear in his wake and the look of death in his eyes.

Kisa becomes obsessed with him. Yearns for him. Craves his touch. Needs to possess this mysterious man...this man they call Raze.





Tillie Cole è stata una strepitosa scoperta di questo disgraziato anno 2014. Ho letto alcuni libri della medesima autrice e raramente ho notato qualcosa da eccepire sul romanzo stesso o sullo stile di scrittura. Mi domando solo se nel suo repertorio letterario,  ci potrà mai essere un romanzo....diciamo non dark. Il suo talento è palese tanto quanto sono sconvolgenti le sue storie. Non sono facile da digerire e spesso ti colpiscono allo stomaco quando meno te lo aspetti.

Come in Raze per esempio. Il romanzo si svolge a New York, dove viene messo sotto il microscopio la mafia russa che popola la Grande Mela. Come in tutte le congregazioni criminali di questa portata, vige una gerarchia rigorosissima e regole severe. Si tratta di un mondo violento, dove parole come misericordia o compassione non hanno alcun significato.

Kisa, la nostra protagonista, è la figlia di uno dei capi mafiosi russi di maggior spicco. Il loro era una gruppo ben affiatato insieme a Luka, il figlio del tesoriere e Alik, il figlio del  braccio destro.
Luka è di poco più grande di Kisa, nel suo occhio destro c'è una piccola goccia di azzurro, identico quello degli occhi di Kisa. Le loro madri fantasticavano su questo dettaglio, pensavano che fosse stato Dio a mettergliela per dimostrare che il loro destino era quello di stare insieme.
Sono sempre stati molto uniti, fin da bambini e poi da ragazzi. Era già scritto un meraviglioso futuro davanti a loro, i genitori non potevano esserne più entusiasti, considerato che gli affari sarebbero rimasti in famiglia e Luka avrebbe preso il posto a capo della Bratva. Ma non tutti erano così contenti che i due principini andassero così d'accordo, Alik, di carattere violento e sociopatico già dai primi anni, provava una malsana ossessione nei confronti di Kisa, arrivando a fare qualcosa di tragico e violento, separando irrimediabilmente Luka e Kisa. Accade qualcosa per la quale viene annuciata la morte di Luka e del fratello di Kisa proprio per mano di Luka. 

Kisa dovrebbe odiare anche solo che il ricordo nella sua mente del suo primo amore, considerata la gravità del crimine di cui si è macchiato, ma l'idea di non poterlo vedere mai più. la sua anima gemella, il ragazzo a cui aveva giurato amore eterno, le rende la vita pressoché insostenibile.

Con gli anni, il tempo dovrebbe guarire tutte le ferite ma spesso non è così. Quel che è certo è che le cose cambiano e Alik, agevolato dalla sua posizione nella Bratva, riesce a possedere finalmente Kisa e una volta sposati nessuno potrà portargliela via. 
Oltre ai classici affari illeciti mafiosi, Kisa e famiglia gestiscono il Dungeon, una palestra di pugilato dove si tengono degli incontri all'ultimo sangue. Un giorno si presenta un uomo, spalle da armadio e cappuccio sul viso, con il chiaro intento di iscriversi al torneo. Il suo nome è Raze, e ha un tatuaggio sul petto : 818...insieme a molti altri. Riza  rimane abbagliata da questo uomo taciturno, animalesco, che trasuda vendetta e desiderio di morte da ogni poro. Cosa nasconde? Da dove è arrivato? E perchè ha l'aria familiare?

La storia è forte, intensa e cruenta ma il tocco di passione verace rende tutto sostenibile, il desiderio di trovare il tanto sospirato HEA vi spingerà ad arrivare fino alla fine,  soprattutto per leggere di come Alik riceverà la sua giusta fine, mai avevo incontrato un antagonista così detestabile.
In un ambientazione alla Fight Club, leggerete di come una coppia destinata a vivere il loro sogno d'amore, si armerà fino ai denti per riappropriarsi della loro felicità e di un uomo, che preso da bambino è stato privato della sua giovinezza e innocenza, e, nonostante fosse al limite della dignità, non perde il senso della sua vendetta e nulla potrà mai fermalo.

Riza, dopo la perdita di Luka, ha cercato di continuare a vivere. Sfortunatamente accanto a lei, c'era Alik e non vi era modo di sottrarsi alla sua violenza, desiderio di possessione e ossessione. Rassegnata a vivere una vita senza il suo vero amore, cerca di fare del suo meglio per accettare il futuro che le si prospetta.  Con Raze le cose si fanno diverse, non riesce a resistere alla sua potenza e virilità. Non la spaventano i tatuaggi o i suoi grugniti che usa per comunicare. Si sente come protetta in sua presenza. Alik se ne accorge e non le renderà vita facile.

Raze o 818, raggiunge New York con il solo obiettivo di uccidere Alik. Ma non sa perchè, sa solo che è stato lui a mandarlo in quel maledetto campo di concentramento in Alaska dove facevano combattere i ragazzini fino all'ultimo sangue. E' sopravvissuto solo ed esclusivamente con questo scopo. Non si ricorda della sua vita precedente, ma Kisa, i suoi occhi, il suo profumo, gli scatenano immagini nella mente di una persona diversa da quella che è ora. Chi è lui veramente? E perchè è così attratto dalla donna di Alik?

Non sono una grande amante dei Dark Romance, ma con Tillie Cole sapevo di andare sul sicuro. Il suo stile è cruento, come del resto le storie che racconta, i personaggi sono analizzati in modo superlativo e il romanzo mi ha tenuto incollata al mio ereader fino alla fine. Solo la pausa per il sonno, nutrirmi e bisogni fisiologici hanno interrotto la mia lettura. 
Con questa recensione spero di avervi trasmesso il mio entusiasmo e allo stesso tempo prepararvi a quello che vi aspetta per la lettura di un romanzo di tale portata.  







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Guns firing.
Crashes.
Screaming.
Gunshot after gunshot and the tumult of shouting pounded through the stone ceiling as I paced the small area of my dank cell. Above me was a stampede, the thunder of hundreds of feet; prisoners were on the loose. And here I was trapped in this fucking cell!
I need to get out. I must get out! I screamed inside my head as I ran my hand over the metal bars keeping me trapped inside.
Charging the door of my cell, my right shoulder slammed into the metal. It didn’t even shake. Wrapping my hands tightly around the bars over the “window,” I scanned the dimly lit hallway, its flickering dull bulbs swinging back and forth from all the heavy movement upstairs. This level of the prison, the Gulag as it was known amongst the inmates, was reserved for us champions, the most prized of the death fighters. The fucking killers, the murderers, the monsters they’d created to want nothing but to feel rage and spill blood. We were jailed in the bowels of this shithole, no chance of escape. Our cells were too far apart to ever see another fighter except when we were training.
My breathing became ragged. Bellowing in frustration, I pulled on the steel bars, my arm joints creaking with the enormous pressure I put them under. My bulging, drug-created muscles corded with the effort. I roared out a final yell when they refused to budge.
The shot they’d just given me was making my skin crawl and was evoking the need to fight. I was scheduled to fight later tonight. I felt rage, nothing but rage.
I needed to kill. It was the only way to stop the rage.
The first shot had been fired about thirty minutes ago, I guessed. I didn’t know; time had no meaning in the Gulag.
I could hear the other fighters shouting, screaming that they’d been released, could hear the screech of cell doors being wrenched open, the screams of men dying.
I was fucking incensed.
I wanted blood.
And I needed to fight!
My blood boiled under my flesh, fiery, searing, preparing me for a fight to the death. To do what I did bestmaim, slaughterkill.
Roaring out, I released the cell bars and once again began pacing the cell. My eyes, even in the dark, focused on the wall and the name engraved in the stone. Alik Durov. Underneath was an address. Brooklyn, New York. Below that, a motive. Revenge. Lastly, there was a clear instruction. Kill.
I had no memory of writing it down, no memory of my life before this place. Didn’t know if I ever had a life outside of these stone walls. My brain had shut down, blocking out anything but the need to kill, erasing any knowledge of who I was, where I was from, and why I was in this fucking shithole. But one thing was certain. I had written that name, that address, that motive, and that instruction. When I stared at those jagged letters carved permanently on the wall in my line of sight, anger consumed every cell in my body and I knew, without a doubt, I had to do what the inscription commanded.
But I had to get out of this place first.
The sound of the hallway door slamming open echoed off the walls. I rushed to the bars to see what the fuck was happening. My skin was itching with the need to break free, to join the fightto get my revenge.
The clinking of cell doors opening made my heart race faster. My knuckles cracked with the intensity of my grip on the bars.
Get me the fuck out!I growled as I heard heavy footsteps approach my cell. My cheek pressed hard on cold metal as I stretched to see who was coming, my hands rocking the cell door until blood began to ooze from the constantly splitting skin on my fingers.
Go! Go!a male voice ordered a prisoner, and I heard a man running away. Theyve been overpowered. Head for the east gate.
Theyve been overpowered. Hearing these words spoken out loud, I lost it. Wildfire pulsed through my veins. Running to the back of my cell, I charged the door, my shoulder dislocating with the force.
Seizing my right hand, I popped my shoulder back in place.GET ME THE FUCK OUT!I bellowed, my voice sounding as sharp as razors.
The light above my cell flickered off, plunging me into darkness, but it didn’t matter. I could hear everything, I’d learned to embrace the dark. Thudding on the stone floor made its way toward me. My roaring and bellowing increased.
Suddenly, the footsteps stopped and I could hear the sound of heavy breathing outside my cell.
Get. Me. The. Fuck. Out,I warned. I caught a nervous flicker of movement to my right.
Two men.
Two men were pussying out of facing me head on.
Its him,one of them whispered as my jaw ticked in annoyance.Its 818.
I wont tell you again. Get me the fuck out, or when I find you, I’ll snap your spines, I threatened in a low voice, as the bars creaked louder with the pulsating power of my anger.
The men still didn’t move. I could smell their fear and it just fucked me off even more.
Get him out!a voice ordered from behind and, suddenly, the familiar face of 362 came into viewmy greatest rival but the man I spoke to and respected most.
362 grabbed a key and unlocked my door, his broad chest bare, black sweatpants covering his legs and his long black hair hanging down his back. He swung the door open and met me toe to toe at the entrance. His brown eyes bored into mine as my chest pumped with adrenaline. Then he smirked and slapped me on the arm, laughing. Shaking my head, I sized up the two men who blocked my way and then I smiled. I could kill the two weak fuckers in seconds. Snap their necks before they could fucking blink.
The smell of piss filled my nostrils as the two men stood frozen, wide eyes fixed on me. Then the tension of the moment was shattered when a gunshot rang out from upstairs.




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Amazon & USA Today Best Selling Author, Tillie Cole, is a Northern girl through and through. She originates from a place called Teesside on that little but awesomely sunny (okay I exaggerate) Isle called Great Britain. She was brought up surrounded by her English rose mother -- a farmer's daughter, her crazy Scottish father, a savagely sarcastic sister and a multitude of rescue animals and horses.

Being a scary blend of Scottish and English, Tillie embraces both cultures; her English heritage through her love of HP sauce and freshly made Yorkshire Puddings, and her Scottish which is mostly demonstrated by her frighteningly foul-mouthed episodes of pure rage and her much loved dirty jokes.

Having been born and raised as a Teesside Smoggie, Tillie, at age nineteen, moved forty miles north to the 'Toon', Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, where she attended Newcastle University and graduated with a Bachelor of Arts honours degree in Religious Studies. She returned two years later to complete a Post-Graduate Certificate in Teaching High School Social Studies. Tillie, regards Newcastle to be a home from home and enjoyed the Newcastle Geordie way of life for seven 'proper mint' and 'lush' years.

One summers day, after finishing reading her thousandth book on her much loved and treasured Kindle, Tillie turned to her husband and declared, "D'you know, I have a great idea for a story. I could write a book." Several months later, after repeating the same tired line at the close of another completed story, she was scolded by her husband to shut up talking about writing a novel and "just bloody do it!" For the first time in eleven years, Tillie actually took his advice (he is still trying to get over the shock) and immediately set off on a crazy journey, delving deep into her fertile imagination.

Tillie, ever since, has written from the heart. She combines her passion for anything camp and glittery with her love of humour and dark brooding men (most often muscled and tattooed – they’re her weakness!). She also has a serious side (believe it or not!) and loves to immerse herself in the complex study of World Religions, History and Cultural Studies and creates fantasy stories that enable her to thread serious issues and topics into her writing -- yep, there's more to this girl than profanity and sparkles!

After six years of teaching high school Social Studies and following her Professional Rugby Player husband around Europe, they have finally given up their nomadic way of life and settled in Calgary, Alberta where Tillie spends most of her days (and many a late night) lost in a writing euphoria or pursuing a dazzling career as a barrel-racing, tasselled-chap wearing, Stetson-sporting cowgirl... Ye-haw!


SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS


https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7074846.Tillie_Cole

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