Mine (2) (The REAL series)

Product Description “I will do anything to make her MINE.” —Remington Tate In the international bestseller REAL, the unstoppable bad boy of the Underground fighting circuit finally met his match. Hired to keep him in prime condition, Brooke Dumas unleashed a primal desire in Remington “Remy” Tate as vital as the air he breathes . . . and now he can’t live without her. Brooke never imagined she would end up with the man who is every woman’s dream, but not all dreams end happily ever after, and just when they need each other the most, Brooke is torn away from the ringside. Now with distance and darkness between them, the only thing left is to fight for the love of the man she calls MINE. Review "Seductive, wild, and visceral." -- Christina Lauren About the Author Katy Evans lives with her husband and their two children plus three lazy dogs in south Texas. Some of her favorite pastimes are hiking, reading, baking, and spending time with her friends and family. She is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of Manwhore, Manwhore +1, Ms. Manwhore, and The REAL series: REAL, MINE, REMY, ROGUE, RIPPED, and LEGEND. For more information on Katy Evans visit her website KatyEvans.net, and follow her on Facebook and Twitter, @AuthorKatyEvans. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Mine ONE WELCOME BACK, RIPTIDE! Brooke IT’S BEEN TWO months, exactly sixty-two days, since I returned to him. A thousand four hundred eighty-eight hours of wanting, longing, and needing him. It has been even longer than that since thousands of women, men, and fans across the world watched him fall. He’s back. This is it. The first fight of the new Underground season. He’s been training like mad. He’s put on more muscle. He’s more ripped than ever, and I know this season he’s ready to take what’s his. The audience in the Washington, D.C., fighting arena consists of about a thousand people, and when the winner of the current match is announced, the crowd grows restless. We all know it’s his time to be called. His assistant, Pete, sits tense and alert to my right. He’d told me he’s the “draw”—that most everyone in the arena is here for him. I know I certainly am. The air is charged with excitement and scented with perfume, beer, and sweat. The two previous fighters are exiting the ring now, one of them assisted by his team, and my heart pounds as I sit motionless in my seat, in the first row, at the very center, just where my man wants me. So here I am, waiting, my body hyperaware and my heart pounding his name. Remington, Remington, Remington . . . The speakers crackle as the announcer turns on the microphone, and I almost jump out of my skin. “Ladies and gentlemen, we all remember our crushed souls—our crushed spirits!—when the crowd favorite lost the championship final last year.” The crowd boos in memory, and my throat clogs thinking about how Remy’s broken body had been carried out of the ring. “Have no fear, people. Have no fear!” “REMY!!!!!!!!!” someone screams. “Bring him out already!” another yells. “Oh, we will. Have no doubt about it; we will,” the announcer somberly says, painfully drawing it out for the crowd. “After much speculation and many rumors, it’s completely official. The man is fighting this season, and he’s taking no prisoners, people! Here he is, ladies and gentlemen. Here. He. Is! You all know who I’m talking about?” The crowd roars, “RIP-TIIIIIIIDE!” “Who??” “RIP-TIIIIIIDE!” “One more time, ’cause I can’t hear you!” “RIPTIIIIIDE!” “That’s right, ladies and gentlemen! Here’s our favorite bad boy with that infamous smile and those deadly fists, ready to carve R.I.P. into anyone who stands in his way this year. The one, the only, Remingtoooon Tate, your RIPTIIIIIIIIIDE!!” Wild excitement rushes through me as the crowd stands and roars like never before. “My god, the fans are thirsty for him,” Pete breathes. And so am I. My god. So am I. Across the ring from me, women ar