Description:
Inside the halls of Osiris, the men and women who make the contract killing agency tick polish their weapons and hone their skills. But how did they start working for Nero and Lex in the first place, and when did they find out they were destined to kill people for a living?
Before Frankie Fairholm let you into her crazy, dysfunctional world of murder for hire, the lives of these men and women were already in danger. Their training was put to the test alongside their morals.
A troubled Catholic school girl with a penchant for murder, a naive con-woman in over her head, a driven socialite with a bad day that keeps getting worse, an assassin second-guessing his sworn oath... being a contract killer doesn’t mean you aren’t human, it just means your humanity is hard to find, and probably a bit tarnished.
On the eve of her high school graduation, proper socialite Francesca “Frankie” Fairholm rebelled against her elitist and controlling family to pursue the dark lifestyle of a contract killer for the enigmatic Osiris Corporation. Years later, with her training complete, she believes she's doomed to the life of a sociopathic lone gun until a botched hit brings two unlikely allies, her cousins Addison and Katharine.
Using Katharine’s etiquette school, Elegance, Inc., as a front, the trio weave through Frankie’s dark underworld, carrying out contracts, drinking too much wine, and trying not to get each other killed.
Trouble follows the team home when the death of the cruel Fairholm matriarch reveals more than they ever wanted to know about their family. As the funeral preparations play out, the trio begin to realize there is much more to their employer than meets the eye and their family connections run deeper than they ever imagined.
"I needed to learn to be less melodramatic, but it was hard in this family."
It’s been a year since Francesca Fairholm met the rest of the Osiris team and the company heads, her two half brothers Nero and Lex. As they groom her for leadership, it’s all Frankie can do to keep her cynical sarcasm in check as she starts training two new Strikers, avoids the romantic advances of Spark Dawson, and does her best to pry a little family history from her cold, distant Aunt Alexa.
With the pressure of her secret dual life building and her mother acting strangely, Frankie’s sanity is pushed to the brink when she makes a grisly discovery that shakes the young Striker to her core. Despite her cousins’ fear that her panic attacks signal a full mental breakdown, Frankie is positive she’s not crazy. Finding clarity in her personal investigation into Osiris’s origins, she uncovers more about the company than she would rather know.
As her life starts to unravel, things get deadly and, before she knows it, she’s facing down an old target’s pissed-off widow, an unstoppable mercenary, and the one thing she’s most terrified of admitting to herself.
It’s possible the whole situation won’t explode in her face. Yeah, like Frankie has that kind of luck.
Excerpt from the Fallen Leaf
“All young people need guidance,” I said. “I find it strange that you are so young and sure of your life path. You do not seem to be a typical killer.”
“Guess I’m not,” Spark said. “I live moment to moment. I don’t see the harm in it. I like to have fun.”
“You lack discipline,” I remarked.
He grinned over at me and scratched his head. “I guess so…but discipline ain’t everything.”
“It is if you want to survive in your profession,” I said.
The more serious I tried to be, the wider his grin got.
“Doesn’t it get tiring being so serious all the time? Isn’t it stressful? Don’t you want to experience life?”
I frowned at the question. “What do you mean?”
I thought he would want to learn from a seasoned assassin. Instead, he questioned me.
“Well, I’m guessing that your customs don’t allow you to fight for anything that saves you… like love. Too many emotions cloud judgment, blah blah blah,” he said. “You guys just have to be warriors through and through. Fight for honor even though honor is never gonna save you. You don’t get to stop and appreciate the world and people around you.”
“And you think I should be doing this?” I asked.
“Everyone should.”
“Interesting philosophy,” I nodded. “You take lives, but you want to embrace life. You think love is a strength that will save you.”
“Oh, I know it will,” he said. “Eventually. Maybe not anytime soon.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
“Nope,” he looked over at me. “But you have, haven’t you, Yeh?”
I felt my body get cold. The feeling was a surprise that I hadn’t felt in quite some time—it was fear. This young man had me figured out, and we had only known each other for an hour at most. A kid—it made little sense to me. I had not even admitted this feeling to myself yet, let alone some boy with a cocky smile.
But he knew.
Excerpt from the Odd Couple
“I’m pretty sure this is the start of a horror movie,” I said.
James didn’t say anything.
He walked ahead of me to a shack hidden by some bushes.
I tugged at my backpack straps, not wanting to go inside. It was hot enough out here.
James continued his silent treatment as he brought a small arsenal of guns out and set them on a weathered table to the side of the hut.
I just watched as he put on a combination back-and-shoulder holster, then armed himself with two semi-automatic pistols and a shotgun.
“We need to snipe this first tower,” he said. “Two guards up top and one who patrols the base.”
I glanced down the dirty road. This sounded less and less like we were dealing with some cult, and more like a crime syndicate.
“Guards,” I muttered. “What did Uly get himself into?”
“My guess,” James started loading one of the rifles, “is that Uly tipped off his mark and he managed to trap him. I did some research on the guy—assuming Uly didn’t. Jean Pierre Toussant isn’t just some crime lord. He’s also a religious extremist and all-around nutbar.”
“So, this is his compound.” I let out a sigh and dropped my backpack on the table.
“Definitely,” James said. “Edge might have figured that out, if he stopped playing video games for five minutes.”
“Hey,” I said. “Don’t bag on my Forward. Yours didn’t catch it either.”
James’ Forward hated him too, but I didn’t want to bring it up. It was a touchy subject.
“Which is why I’m irritated,” James huffed. “It’s like I have to do everyone’s job for them. It’s like the words ‘high priority’ mean dick.”
No one asked you to, I thought. That was James’ problem. He over-analyzed everything and was a douchebag about it. It was no wonder he was in his thirties and single.
“So,” I frowned, putting on my own shoulder holster. “Uly might already be dead, and we’re out here in voodoo central risking our necks for no reason.”
“Don’t say that word,” James said.
“What? Voodoo?”
James made a face as I secured my handguns in the holster.
“Are you scared?” I smirked.
“No,” James narrowed his eyes. “I just don’t like this shit. I don’t like people who fuckin’ deal with hoodoo, witchcraft, cut-your-balls-off-so-you-can-live-forever bullshit. They’re irrational and dangerous. They make me nervous.”
“You’re being really judgmental.”
“Oh, fuck off, Krushinski, for the love of Christ.” James handed me one of the rifles.
“You leave him out of this,” I chuckled.
The more upset James got, the more his New Yorker came out. It kept me grounded. Surely, God wouldn’t let me die in this shithole with a fucking Giants fan.
Author C. Elizabeth Vescio likes to play in the dark world of cynicism and death. Her first novel, Elegantly Wasted touched on the demented and humorous side of a delightfully dysfunctional family.
EXCERPT
“All young people need guidance,” I said. “I find it strange that you are so young and sure of your life path. You do not seem to be a typical killer.”
“Guess I’m not,” Spark said. “I live moment to moment. I don’t see the harm in it. I like to have fun.”
“You lack discipline,” I remarked.
He grinned over at me and scratched his head. “I guess so…but discipline ain’t everything.”
“It is if you want to survive in your profession,” I said.
The more serious I tried to be, the wider his grin got.
“Doesn’t it get tiring being so serious all the time? Isn’t it stressful? Don’t you want to experience life?”
I frowned at the question. “What do you mean?”
I thought he would want to learn from a seasoned assassin. Instead, he questioned me.
“Well, I’m guessing that your customs don’t allow you to fight for anything that saves you… like love. Too many emotions cloud judgment, blah blah blah,” he said. “You guys just have to be warriors through and through. Fight for honor even though honor is never gonna save you. You don’t get to stop and appreciate the world and people around you.”
“And you think I should be doing this?” I asked.
“Everyone should.”
“Interesting philosophy,” I nodded. “You take lives, but you want to embrace life. You think love is a strength that will save you.”
“Oh, I know it will,” he said. “Eventually. Maybe not anytime soon.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
“Nope,” he looked over at me. “But you have, haven’t you, Yeh?”
I felt my body get cold. The feeling was a surprise that I hadn’t felt in quite some time—it was fear. This young man had me figured out, and we had only known each other for an hour at most. A kid—it made little sense to me. I had not even admitted this feeling to myself yet, let alone some boy with a cocky smile.
But he knew.
Excerpt from the Odd Couple
“I’m pretty sure this is the start of a horror movie,” I said.
James didn’t say anything.
He walked ahead of me to a shack hidden by some bushes.
I tugged at my backpack straps, not wanting to go inside. It was hot enough out here.
James continued his silent treatment as he brought a small arsenal of guns out and set them on a weathered table to the side of the hut.
I just watched as he put on a combination back-and-shoulder holster, then armed himself with two semi-automatic pistols and a shotgun.
“We need to snipe this first tower,” he said. “Two guards up top and one who patrols the base.”
I glanced down the dirty road. This sounded less and less like we were dealing with some cult, and more like a crime syndicate.
“Guards,” I muttered. “What did Uly get himself into?”
“My guess,” James started loading one of the rifles, “is that Uly tipped off his mark and he managed to trap him. I did some research on the guy—assuming Uly didn’t. Jean Pierre Toussant isn’t just some crime lord. He’s also a religious extremist and all-around nutbar.”
“So, this is his compound.” I let out a sigh and dropped my backpack on the table.
“Definitely,” James said. “Edge might have figured that out, if he stopped playing video games for five minutes.”
“Hey,” I said. “Don’t bag on my Forward. Yours didn’t catch it either.”
James’ Forward hated him too, but I didn’t want to bring it up. It was a touchy subject.
“Which is why I’m irritated,” James huffed. “It’s like I have to do everyone’s job for them. It’s like the words ‘high priority’ mean dick.”
No one asked you to, I thought. That was James’ problem. He over-analyzed everything and was a douchebag about it. It was no wonder he was in his thirties and single.
“So,” I frowned, putting on my own shoulder holster. “Uly might already be dead, and we’re out here in voodoo central risking our necks for no reason.”
“Don’t say that word,” James said.
“What? Voodoo?”
James made a face as I secured my handguns in the holster.
“Are you scared?” I smirked.
“No,” James narrowed his eyes. “I just don’t like this shit. I don’t like people who fuckin’ deal with hoodoo, witchcraft, cut-your-balls-off-so-you-can-live-forever bullshit. They’re irrational and dangerous. They make me nervous.”
“You’re being really judgmental.”
“Oh, fuck off, Krushinski, for the love of Christ.” James handed me one of the rifles.
“You leave him out of this,” I chuckled.
The more upset James got, the more his New Yorker came out. It kept me grounded. Surely, God wouldn’t let me die in this shithole with a fucking Giants fan.
Series Website ** Goodreads ** Amazon ** Barnes&Noble ** Facebook
About the author:
Author C. Elizabeth Vescio likes to play in the dark world of cynicism and death. Her first novel, Elegantly Wasted touched on the demented and humorous side of a delightfully dysfunctional family.
She enjoys cynical debates, cupcakes, making her mother-in-law sew her aprons that she never wears, zombies, the Fifth Element and Tomb Raider. She gathers her life inspirations from Neil Gaiman, Julia Child and Paul Simon. When she isn't out photographing her next project, she's studying color, concept and design or writing stuff down in hopes it makes sense one day... or she's on Pinterest.
She lives in Las Vegas with her husband and three dogs.
Wasted Series Website ** Goodreads ** Twitter ** Facebook
9 comments:
covers looks very cool.
I love the cover and this series sounds exciting. I would love to read these books.
Yes! I loved Elegantly Wasted and I'm sooo glad the new book is out! I've been looking forward to it! Thanks! :)
I havn't read any of your books yet, they look good, i really like the cover, and the title, they go well together, and the excerpt is good. thanks for the giveaway
For some reason I have never read a "hitman" type book, I love Nikkita and shows like that so I think I would like these books, I am big on series so I look forward to reading these, I would love to win this!! they sound amazing and the cover is great thank you for the giveaway
I really like eye catching cover and also i am always for new book,I just enjoy to read;-)
Amazing cover.. Makes me want to read it!!!
This sounds like a badass book with a badass heroine!
I really like the cover of this book!
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