Lust Is the Thorn

Book 2: Forbidden Love

by Jen McLaughlin

Genres: Romance; Contemporary Romance; New Adult Romance

Synopsis

From the bestselling author of Bad Romance (“A sexy, emotional, steamy read.”—Addison Moore) comes an edgy novel about a reformed bad boy training to be a priest and the fallen angel who makes him think twice about giving up earthly pleasures.
 
Growing up hard and fast on the mean streets of Chicago, Thorn McKinney didn’t have a prayer—until tragedy inspired him to join the seminary. Now the time has come to take his vows, and yet he’s haunted by the woman he can’t leave behind: his best friend’s little sister. Despite Thorn’s promises that he’d keep her safe, she’s going through hell. And now he finds himself torn between duty and desire, entranced by the seductive pull of her trusting eyes, innocent heart, and sinfully sweet curves.
 
Trying to let Thorn pursue his calling, Rose Gallagher has been hiding some things: namely her abusive boyfriend and her job as a stripper. But when she hits rock bottom, Thorn is there for her—and now there’s no denying the raw temptation that draws them together in their darkest moments. Rose may have found salvation in his strong arms, but she knows that Thorn must choose his own path: in the church, or in the warm embrace of a woman’s love.

Praise for Lust Is the Thorn
 
“Jen McLaughlin delivers a sinful and gratifying tale about a love that can endure all. Lust Is the Thorn is simply brilliant!”—New York Times bestselling author L. P. Dover
 
“A man of the cloth and the woman he’s destined to love come together in a lustful forbidden romance with chemistry so off-the-charts you’ll be atoning for their sins.”—New York Times bestselling author Heidi McLaughlin

“Lust Is the Thorn is one of those great romances that will stay with you long after you’ve reached the last page. It’s tragic and beautiful all at once!”—USA Today bestselling author Nora Flite
 
“This isn’t your mama’s Thorn Birds! With forbidden love and passion held in check until it explodes in carnal delight, Lust Is the Thorn is a satisfying emotional read with steamy sex and heated desire. I loved this book!”—USA Today bestselling author Jamie K. Schmidt

Release date: April 19, 2016

Publisher: Loveswept

Print pages: 246

Sample

Chapter 1
Thorn

Sweat rolled into my eyes, and my muscles screamed for mercy, but I had none to give to myself, and hadn’t for years. My life was too dark, too cruel, too hard for me to be soft. Gritting my teeth, I grunted and pulled myself up again, held still, counted to five, and slowly lowered my body back down. After a deep breath, I repeated the process, exhaustion and determination intermingling in my veins until the room blurred and I suspected I might feel the delicious burn for the rest of my godforsaken life.

Just the way I liked it.

Pain was my constant companion.

There weren’t many things in my control, but how I took care of my body was. On top of that, the only way I kept myself in check was by making myself hurt. Boxing. Running. Weights. I’d take on anything, as long as it quieted my thoughts.

Silence was always welcome.

I was more aware of my mortality than most men my age, I think. I’ve seen a lot. Suffered a lot. Done a lot. Learned a lot of lessons the hard way. It’s what you do with those lessons that makes you the man you should be. The man you are destined to be. That’s what I kept telling myself. The thing is, though, I was still trying to figure out who that guy was.

Who I was.

I thought I had it all figured out. Thought I knew what I wanted, and who I should be. But when it came time to actually commit—I hesitated. And I had no idea why. All I knew for sure was that after almost eight years of studying, I hadn’t yet committed the rest of my life to the very thing I’d been studying all this time. I’d started down this path as a way to atone for some crimes I’d committed, but now I was left to wonder if I had atoned at all.

Had I really changed for the better?

Was I really making a difference?

Would Mikey have been proud of me?

My phone rang mid-pull-up, and I dropped to the floor. Sweat coated my body, and all my limbs trembled from the hourlong workout. I swiped my damp forearm across my forehead and crossed the room to my iPhone. Glancing down at it, I frowned at the unfamiliar number. I didn’t get many calls, and none from people I didn’t know, and when I did, it was never good news.

Swiping my finger across the screen, I lifted it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Is this Thorn McKinney?”

I cleared my throat, my heart pounding full speed. “May I ask who this is?”

“This is the Eleventh Precinct, South Side Chicago, and I’m Officer Forkes.” The officer paused. “Are you Thorn McKinney?”

I closed my eyes. If the police were calling, it had to mean one thing. Mom had gotten herself arrested again.

“Yes, I’m Layla McKinney’s son. What did she do this time? Drugs? Prostitution? Both?”

“Uh . . .” The officer laughed uneasily. “I’m not calling about your mother, though I am familiar with her . . . uh . . . work.”

I opened my eyes quickly, relief hitting me in the gut. Every time I bailed out Mom, it was a trip to the past—a trip I never wanted to take. Ever. “Then why are you calling me?”

“Do you know a Rose Gallagher? You’re listed as her emergency contact on her job application at—”

Just like that, my stomach dropped. She was the one person in my life who mattered. The last remaining reminder of who I’d been, once upon a time.

More than that, she was my only friend.

Sure, the only reason I’d hung out with her initially was because I had been her brother’s best friend. When Mikey died almost eight years ago in a tragic accident, I slipped into the role of older brother as best I could. And I’d never once strayed from that role. But over time, my “obligation” became something more.

Something I looked forward to.

Earlier today, I’d gone out to lunch with her—like I did every week—and even through my distraction and my need to tell her something that would probably make her hate me, I could tell that something was off. Her beautiful blue eyes had seemed less shiny, and her smooth, pale skin had been a little less bright. She’d still been breathtakingly beautiful, perfect in every way, enough to tempt a saint into breaking his vow of celibacy, but she’d seemed . . . tired.

Rose was never tired.

I knew her better than I knew myself, so I’d known something was wrong and kept pressing her for information, but she shrugged it off and changed the subject each time. And now . . . “Is she okay?”

“She was attacked—”

I grabbed the first shirt I found off my dorm bed, my heart twisting. If she wasn’t all right . . . I didn’t know what I’d do. “Is she okay?”

“She’s alive. But she got attacked outside her workplace.” The officer paused. “She’s in the ER now. They might keep her overnight, considering the nature of the attack, but then she’ll be released.”

I shrugged on the black shirt as best I could while holding the phone to my ear. I tried to keep calm, but this was Rose, and there was no calm. “Where is she?”

“Chester Memorial.”