Rules of engagement:
1) You have the right to use force to defend yourself.
2) Fire may be returned to stop a hostile attack.
3) You may not seize the property of others to accomplish your mission.
4) Detention of civilians is authorized in self-defense.
Delilah Morgan and her older sister Destiny have been on their own for two years, since their parents burned down the family home and went to jail for cooking meth. She’s street smart and tough. Nothing about her says sixteen, and she’s not about to tell anyone, especially Bran, the hot ex-marine bartender Destiny has her eye on. He’s stable and successful and everything her sister needs to keep them off the street. The only problem, something about Bran inspires her and suddenly she’s writing the best music she ever has. About him.
Branson Silo knows what it means to be in the line of fire. Home for a year from his second tour of duty in Afghanistan, he thinks he’s safe…until he meets Delilah. Despite her sharp tongue that makes him want to take cover, he can’t deny the attraction. But when he hires her to play weekends at his family’s saloon, he finds out she’s more than he can handle…which is saying something considering he used to blow things up for a living.
When the grenade finally explodes and the shrapnel flies, will Bran be left standing? Or has he survived years at war only to be taken down by Jail Bait?
Bran, un ragazzo di 26 anni, ex marine, fa il barman nel bar nel pub della cittadina in cui ha sempre vissuto, Oak Crest. Dopo le sue missioni in Afghanistan, desidera solo calma e serenità. Le sue notti sono invase da incubi ed è per questo che non dorme da molto tempo. Cerca quindi di intrattenersi con donne diverse ogni volta per annebbiare la mente, lui non cerca relazioni, solo svaghi e passatempi. Come lo è stato Destiny la nuova avvenente cameriera. Sesso e basta.
Delilah, 16 anni, si è da poco trasferita con la sorella. Stanno scappando da alcuni anni ormai, la loro famiglia, due genitori drogati e violenti che hanno bruciato la loro casa, le hanno costrette a fuggire e diventare grandi troppo presto. Delilah è la più piccola, mentre Destiny è la maggiore, la quale si sente più mamma che sorella, dandole il coprifuoco e seguendo la sua istruzione.
Volendo aiutare la sorella ad arrivare a fine mese, Lilah, decide di trovarsi un lavoro e si improvvisa performer nel bar dove lavora Destiny. Non è estranea alle esibizioni in pubblico, lei e la sua amica Shiloh, avevano molto successo ai tempi della scuola.
Bran viene travolto da un'ondata di passione al suono della calda voce della ragazza, non può permettersi di pagarla così lei si accontenta di venire nel weekend e delle mance che i frequentatori del bar generosamente le donano.
La scintilla scatta tra Bran e Lilah, sguardi fugaci e tensione sessuale da tagliare con il coltello. La voglia di stare insieme è tanta ma a complicare la situazione ci si mette la sorella Destiny che ha intenzione di sposarlo per convenienza economica. Lilah, saprà mettersi da parte ? Lui non conosce la vera età della ragazza, ben 10 anni li separano, quando la sorella maggiore minaccerà di denunciarlo, come si comporteranno i protagonisti?
Il terzo romanzo della serie JailBait di Mia Storm è caratterizzato da una trama fitta di avvenimenti e di sentimenti. Troviamo Bran, travolto dalla passione per Lilah, un amore veloce e intenso come mai provato prima. Lilah, tormentata teenager cresciuta troppo in fretta con un passato oscuro e devastata dai sensi di colpa per la sorella, l'unico membro della famiglia che le è rimasta e che tradisce in nome dell'amore, ed infine Destiny, alle prese con i demoni del passato che la travolgeranno al punto di essere ricoverata in ospedale.
Il contorno dei personaggi secondari e molto ricco ma non si diventa matti a seguire la trama, ho trovato simpatico e innovativo l'inserimento del programma televisivo reality show The Voice a cui l'amica di Lilah partecipa. La ragazza lo segue per tifarla e quando la invita ad assistere alla finale, tutto è descritto in modo accurato ed è davvero entusiasmante.
Il passato delle ragazze viene svelato e trattandosi di un argomento serio, viene affrontato con la giusta serietà e si inserisce in modo preciso nel rapporto tra i protagonisti.
Ritengo opportuno spiegare il nome di questa serie: Jailbait. Significa letteralmente esca per la prigione, si considera tale una ragazza non ancora maggiorenne a cui non è consentito avere rapporti sessuali con maschi più grandi.
Le protagoniste di questa serie sono tutte minorenni che si innamorano, ricambiate, da maschi più che maggiorenni. Per la legge americana, si finisce in prigione se accusati di aver fatto sesso, seppur consenzienti, con una minorenne. Quindi i rispettivi personaggi maschili della serie sono dibattuti se iniziare o meno una relazione amorosa con loro proprio per questo motivo, non riuscendo a trattenersi sfidano la legge perché innamorati.
Mi rendo conto che alcuni lettori/lettrici possano storcere il naso, io non sono ancora madre ma posso immaginare che la reazione di un genitore che viene a sapere che il fidanzato della propria figlia sia più maturo, e con pulsioni sessuali fisiologiche, non sia motivo di gioia e sicurezza. Ma i tempi sono cambiati e adesso lo si da praticamente per scontato.
Posso assicurare a chi tende a storcere il naso che la scrittrice ha tenuto a precisare quanto questo fatto sia gravoso agli occhi della legge, scrive chiaramente quello che sarebbe giusto fare.... ma l'amore vince sempre.
L'inglese è di facile lettura e lo sconsiglio in modo spassionato. Mia Storm ha saputo deliziarmi con le sue pubblicazioni, le sue storie d'amore sono passionali ed avvincenti, i dialoghi simpatici e scorrevoli, i personaggi secondari danno spessore a tutto lo svolgimento della storia. Difficile trovare un difetto!
I’m blending a pair of frozen daiquiris with one hand and shaking a martini with the other when out of the corner of my eye, I see a solo blonde slide onto the barstool at the end, near the beer taps. I finish what I’m doing and prepare the tray for Carol to pick up before glancing over and seeing its Destiny.
A guy in the middle of the bar makes eye contact and nods at his empty beer mug. I grab it and start filling without really looking up at her. “Didn’t think I’d see you again till closer to closing.”
“Sorry?” she says. “Are you talking to me?”
The voice is off—slightly raspy and a pitch lower than her usual. I look up again and squint at her, wondering if she’s already started drinking. She’s taken her straight hair down from the ponytail she always wears it in and it’s not as long as I remember it from the other night—the only other time I’ve seen it down. There’s also a fading blue stripe cutting through the platinum over her right ear that I’ve never noticed before.
“What can I get you?” I ask her instead of pushing it.
I’m already reaching for the vodka and cranberry to start on a Madras, her drink of choice last week, when she answers, “Rum and Coke.”
“That’s different,” I mutter, shooting her another glance.
She gives me a puzzled look. “Look, I really just wanted to find out if you hire entertainment.”
My face mirrors her puzzlement, I’m sure, as I try to process her statement. “Why?”
She hunches to the side and pulls something up from her feet. I see it’s a battered black guitar case when the narrow end peeks over the top of the bar. “Because I need a gig.”
“Didn’t know you played,” I say, pushing her drink across the bar to her.
That baffled look is back as she pulls it toward her and takes a swallow. I can’t help following the curve of her long neck downward toward a pair of large round tits perfectly outlined by her snug, low-cut T-shirt. She is definitely hot, and if we’re on the same page, then I’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. She wants me to fuck her till she screams? I’m perfectly capable of that. She sets her drink down and catches me staring. She cuts me that wicked smile again, causing my cock to stir. I return the smile, sending the innuendo right back at her.
She props her elbows onto the bar and leans forward, giving me a clear look down her shirt. “Considering that we’ve never met before, I don’t find that surprising.”
I’m so absorbed in images of my face buried in those magnificent tits that it takes me a second to process what she said.
My eyes snap to hers. “Wait…what?”
She reaches across the bar, offering me a hand. “Lilah.”
There’s a full second all I can do is stare, wondering if this is one of those split personality things you hear about sometimes. And in that second, through the dim lighting, I take in all the tiny details—a dark mole at the outer corner of her right eye; her eyes, silver instead of blue; the missing white crescent-shaped scar above Destiny’s right eyebrow; and lips, a little fuller than I remember—which are smirking at me now.
“You’re not Destiny,” I say as it all clicks.
It’s not a question, but she shakes her head. “No. I am most definitely not Destiny.”
“Twins?” I ask.
She cocks her head playfully. “What do you think?”
“You’ve got to be. You’re fucking identical except for the eyes.” I tap my forehead. “And you’re missing a scar.”
Her perfect blond eyebrow raises in amusement. “She’s the pretty one and I’m the smart one.”
I bark out a laugh as I reach across and shake her hand. “Bran Silo. Good to meet you.”
She doesn’t let go of my hand for a second after we’re done shaking—just long enough to send a clear message that she’s interested.
A knot forms in my gut, and I realize it’s guilt. Destiny and I have an understanding, but regardless, I’m pretty sure fucking her sister would be way outside the bounds of gentlemanly behavior. Not that anyone would ever mistake me for a gentleman. “Destiny never mentioned she had a sister.”
“Doesn’t surprise me.” She takes another drink, nearly polishing it off in a few big gulps.
I tip my head at it her glass. “Another?”
“My limit is one,” she says, pushing her glass toward me. “Just Coke this time, thanks.”
Carol sweeps by on her way to the kitchen, dropping an order on my bar. “Thought you left,” she says to Lilah without slowing down. “Careful or your favorite customer might ask for you,” she adds, jerking her head at Mr. Hendricks as she disappears through the swinging door.
I bark out a laugh as I scoop ice into Lilah’s glass and fill it with Coke. “Good to know I’m not the only one.”
Lilah shrugs. “Happens all the time.” She slides out of her chair, lifting the guitar case. “So do you want to hear me play or what?”
I look around the crowded room, loud with chatter, drowning out the background music. “We don’t generally have live entertainment,” I say, which is really an understatement. We’ve never had live entertainment. But for some reason, I’m not willing to shut Lilah down so fast.
When my eyes find her again, annoyed impatience shines loud and clear out of her gaze. “So that’s a no?”
I feel my mouth pull into a cocky half-smile. “I didn’t say that.”
She opens her case and pulls out her guitar, unabashedly climbing through the window I left ajar for her. I watch as she sets herself up on the stool and rests the guitar in her lap, gripping it softly but confidently. She starts strumming, and I expect her to be discrete, since this is basically an audition, but there’s not a shred of self-consciousness or embarrassment anywhere in her disposition as she begins to belt out lyrics—an old No Doubt song that I can’t remember the name of.
The way she plays, as if on instinct; the passion in her voice, and the fact that she’s really fucking good, starts to turn heads at the tables closest to us. As they quiet and listen, more tables still, and soon the only thing she’s competing to be heard over is the Kat Country on the speakers. But she doesn’t decrease her volume. If anything, as eyes find her, she becomes louder, feeding off the attention.
I reach under the bar and click off the stereo, then lean onto the back counter and cross my arms, listening as she finishes one song and launches into the next.
A guy at the bar pulls a five from his pocket and flags me down with it. I grab his beer mug, but he shakes his head. “Is there a tip jar?” he asks with a nod toward Lilah.
I pull a fresh mug from under the bar and he slips the five inside, then I set it at the end of the bar near Lilah. She cuts me a smile and her eyes slide down my body as she sings.
And fuck me. I lean my hands on the bar and press against the lower counter when my dick won’t yield to my will. Without a doubt, everything Destiny has going on, Lilah’s got that and more.
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Mia Storm is a hopeless romantic who is always searching for her happy ending. Sometimes she’s forced to make one up. When that happens, she’s thrilled to be able to share those stories with her readers. She lives in California and spends much of her time in the sun with a book in one hand and a mug of black coffee in the other, or hiking the trails in Yosemite.
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