The Last DiLuca by Beth D. Carter

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SKU 978-0-3695-1548-3
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Expected release date is 24th Sep 2026
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Death Riders MC

Michael Slade is shattered when he learns of the brutal murder of the DiLuca Borgata. His heart still clings to Normandy, the only daughter, and the love he walked away from.

Drowning his grief at the bar seemed like the perfect answer, but a desperate call pulls him back into her arms. As he races to protect her from an unseen enemy, they must navigate a dangerous game of survival where old wounds and new threats collide.

As bullets fly, can their love resurrect among the chaos? Slade knows it’s a fight for life and love, and he must figure out who’s after Normandy before the assassin finishes the job.

 

Excerpt:

“I know you used to work for Tony DiLuca and I thought it would be a good symbolic gesture, but if we don’t act swiftly, there will be others who’ll claim it.”

Slade took a step forward, hands balling into fists. At his threatening stance, the bodyguard George took a forward step, showing he was ready to protect his boss.

“Tell me what the hell you’re talking about!”

Damon shook his head sadly. “Oh, my God, you really don’t know.” 

“I’m so sorry to tell you this,” Sweeney murmured, “but Tony DiLuca and his family were … well, he and his kids were shot about an hour ago. None of them survived.”

Slade blinked, waiting for the punch line. When that didn’t come, he waited for someone to yell April Fool’s. Or just kidding. Or anything else, instead of standing there in silence with a confused, blank stare. When nothing else was said, denial quickly flashed through his head. There was no way they could all be dead. He would’ve heard about it. He and Normandy might be separated, but he would’ve felt something. She was the other half of his soul. She made his fucking heart beat, so there was no way she no longer breathed on this earth. Slade turned around and pulled out his phone, punching in the number he knew by heart. 

“Pick up, Normandy,” he muttered under his breath. It became his prayer. “Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Please … Goddamn it!”

He ended the call as soon her voice mail clicked on. He spun back around and pointed at Sweeney.

“Where’s my wife?” he demanded.

Sweeney’s eyes widened. “Your wife? Normandy DiLuca is your wife?”

Slade charged him, ignoring George and the yells from Kix. He pulled Sweeney up by the collar to stare him in the eye.

“What did you do to her?” he yelled. George’s mighty fist grabbed the back of his leather jacket in an effort to dislodge his grip.

“Michael, stop this!” Damon yelled.

“I didn’t do anything,” Sweeney replied calmly. He held up a hand to keep George back. “I came here as a symbolic gesture to the DiLuca memory, for you to take over their distribution route. I had no idea you hadn’t heard of the tragedy.”

Slade didn’t want to believe him and he didn’t know how to react. His brain and heart were screaming that it wasn’t true. His body and mind numb. He couldn’t understand how the world hadn’t stopped spinning, because all his momentum drained away with the thought that Normandy was dead. He released Sweeney and stumbled back. Kix took hold of his arm to help steady him.

“I … I have to go,” he managed to mumble. Everything was a blur, the darkness of the night bleeding out to trap him. He couldn’t make heads or tails out of anything except the fact that the woman he loved more than anything was no longer breathing.

When he tried to pull free, Kix tightened his hold. “No. You can’t ride like this.”

“Let me go,” he muttered and yanked away. “No, no, no. She’s not dead. You hear me?  She’s not dead!”

Series:
/series-death-riders-mc/