Excerpts #2 Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

Feb 062019

Kill Switch (Devil’s Night Book 3) by Penelope Douglas

“I’ve done far worse than what I went to prison for. She has no idea how bad this can get.”


Sending him to prison was the worst thing I could’ve done. It didn’t matter that he did the crime or that I wished he was dead. Perhaps I thought I’d have time to disappear before he got out or he’d cool off in jail and be anything but the horror he was.

But I was wrong. Three years came and went too fast, and now he’s anything but calm. Prison only gave him time to plan.

And while I anticipated his vengeance, I didn’t expect this.

He doesn’t want to make me hurt. He wants to make everything hurt.


First thing’s first. Get rid of her daddy. He told them I forced her. He told them his little girl was a victim, but I was a kid, too, and she wanted it just as much as I did.

Step two… Give her, her sister, and her mother nowhere to run and no fuel to escape. The Ashby women are alone now and desperate for a knight in shining armor.

But that’s not what’s coming.

No, it’s time I listened to my father and took control of my future. It’s time I showed them all—my family, her family, my friends—that I will never change and that I have no other ambition than to be the nightmare of their lives.

Starting with her.

She’ll be so scared, she won’t even be safe in her own head by the time I’m done with her. And the best part is I won’t have to break into her home to do it.

As the new man of the house I have all the keys.

Kill Switch is a romantic suspense suitable for readers 18+. It is advised to read Corrupt (Devil’s Night #1) and Hideaway (Devil’s Night #2) prior to reading this book. Both are available on Kindle Unlimited.

Just a few more days and Kill Switch will be live and ready for us. More exactly on February 11th 2019. In the mean time, dear Penelope Douglas have given us a  real gift!  Kill Switch Excerpts.

Kill Switch (Devil’s Night #3) releases February 11, 2019.



I climbed the two flights of stairs, coming to the third floor, I stepped quietly down the hallway, doors lining both sides and unsure of where she went.

There were offices, a library, a few bedrooms, and on the right, I passed a billiards room, the door open and Rika leaning on the pool table with her back to me. I stopped, seeing her staring at a collection of weapons hung on the wall.

“Michael didn’t want me to come tonight,” she said.

I smiled to myself. Couldn’t sneak up on her anymore.

“He knew you knew my routine,” she continued. “But lately, and with as happy as I am with so much in my life, the bouts are the only time I feel like I’m sure of what I’m doing anymore. The only time my strike is sure. I couldn’t miss it.”

She stood up and turned around, still dressed in her fencing gear minus the helmet. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and she looked down at the pool table, absently rolling the pink ball back and forth.

“You know, after our meeting at the club that night,” she told me, “I started reading up on chess. I mean, I knew how to play. My father made sure if it. But I wasn’t very clever with it.”

I approached the table, listening.

“I thought each piece’s power increased based on its proximity to the king, but that’s not true.” She looked up at me. “Other than the queen, the most powerful player is—”

“The rook,” I said.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“So you’re finally ready to begin?” I asked, pouring myself a glass of bourbon.

But she just turned around, looking back at the wall of weapons. “The game has already begun.”

My pulse throbbed harder in my neck as I carried my drink to the table. I lived for this shit.

But while I liked my games, intrigue, and going wild, I didn’t like doing it alone. I wanted someone on my side.

“All of this is mine,” she said, gesturing to the wall of weapons and turning her head to meet my eyes. “It’s only taken me a few months to gather it. Some purchased, some traded, and some borrowed from private collections.”

She turned back around, studying it again, and I stared at the back of her head as I took a swig of the alcohol.

“The curator of the Menkin Museum would love to have this for her weapons exhibit next summer,” she explained. “And I’m prepared to let her have it in exchange for a favor from her husband, whenever I choose to call it in.”

A favor? Who was her husband?

She paused and then clarified, “Her soon-to-be police commissioner husband, Martin Scott.”

I blinked long and hard, anger winding its way through my stomach.

Martin Scott.

As in Emory Scott.

The girl with the abusive—police officer—older brother whom Kai and Will were sent to prison for assaulting as payback for beating up on his little sister.

The little sister who wasn’t little anymore and who Will was still obsessed with.

Martin Scott hated us, and was now more powerful than ever.

Rika shot up, grabbed a sword off the wall, and whipped around, holding it at her side and pinning me with a stare.

“And guess where he plays billiards every Friday night?” she taunted.

Goddammit. My hand tightened around the glass.

“See, the thing I always wondered about was,” she said, circling the table, and I did the same, glass in hand. “Kai and Will served time for assaulting Martin Scott, but…” She eyed me. “They weren’t the only ones there. Someone was filming.”

You little shit.

“And that’s like… aiding and abetting, right?” she asked.

The glass shattered in my fist, and I felt the sting of a cut as the liquid spilled and the shards fell to the ground.

She just smirked at me, a glint in her blue eyes. “Queen takes rook.”

You fucking bitch.

“Fucking little monster,” I muttered, breathing lava out of my nose.

“Kai and Will protected you,” she stated, fighting not to smile.
“That charge along with the statutory rape charge? You would still be in prison. If Martin Scott were to find out…

“There’s no proof.”

“There’s Kai and Will,” she fired back. “And they’re mad at you right now.”

Goddamn her. Martin Scott knew it was me filming his much-deserved beat-down, but without a reason for Will and Kai to be silent about my part in it anymore, all I had was Rika. She pulled the strings.

She circled the table, held up the sword, and pointed it at me.

“You will not force her,” she ordered her terms. “You will not threaten, torture, or coerce her into your bed. You will not touch her.”

I shot out my hands, planting them on the pool table and leaning over it to look her in the eyes. “And if she wants me to touch her?”

“It’s good to dream big, Damon.”


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