Things Aren’t what they seem. Don’t get involved.
Celisse is too headstrong to listen. Her best friend’s boyfriend is dead, and she does not heed Cullen’s warning, slipped to her in a note as he’s being arrested for the murder.
Cullen tries to keep Celisse out of things and also tries to avoid her, both unsuccessfully. He can’t deny his feelings for her anymore, but he knows he can’t have her—if she ever discovered the truth about his past, she’d surely hate him.
While struggling with her intense feelings for Cullen, she uses her skills as an ex-prosecutor to investigate, all while continuing to fight for Ogden, the organizer of an underground fight ring. She eventually realizes things are connected—the ring, Ogden, Cullen, the murder, and herself. She races to uncover the truth before she’s arrested or becomes the next victim—or the next culprit.
~Published by Liquid Silver Books~
Royal Palm Literary Awards: Winner second place in the 2013 Royal Palm Literary Awards, a statewide competition through the Florida Writers Association.
What readers have said…
“It Looks Like The Master Of Conflict–MSK Has Done It Again With “Fight Princess”. . .Positively Riveting Page Turner“
~Chris Cook, Goodreads reviewer
“This is a really unusual review, because I read this manuscript before it was a book. It was submitted to the publisher for whom I edit under another title—one that didn’t appeal to me. I made a huge mistake not reading it immediately, and Ms. Kaye signed with another publisher while I dithered. I am still kicking myself for letting this gem escape… Normally, when a publisher tells an editor a book has been signed elsewhere, we put it down and go on to the next project…I could not put this one down. … I highly recommend you grab it. Don’t dither like I did.”
“Right from the start, the story drew me in, getting to know all the players. The mystery M. S. Kaye reveals keeps you guessing to the very end. I love puzzles and love to figure out the mysteries. I just had to keep reading. My gut instincts usually get me to the right conclusion. Near the end, though, I nearly thought I was wrong. Several twists left me questioning my own deductions.”
~Jamie Dement, reviewer/writer Website
“This was the first book I’ve read by M.S Kaye but it won’t be the last. I LOVED Fight Princess. Celisse and Cullen were both well-developed likeable characters who had a lot in common and complimented each other well.
“The murder mystery was well written with lots of twists and turns. The underbelly of the city was well research and vividly came alive with description and fresh writing. Even the villain Ogden was a well-developed and sympathetic character. There aren’t many books I’ve read where I come to feel for the bad guy. I am eagerly awaiting book two in the Full Contact series. There is more to the story and I can’t wait to see what happens next.”
~Shiloh Saddler, Reviewer, Writer Website
“M. S. Kaye builds strong characters and a strong story. The images Kaye creates stay in the mind long after reading them.”
~MA, Amazon reviewer
“Very interesting plot, the author expertise in martial arts shows in the action scenes. But the plot keep[s] you glued to the book, with enough twists to keep you gues[s]ing. Looking forward to more adventures of the Fight Princess.”
~Juan I. Ducali “Nacho,” Amazon reviewer
Through the peephole she saw Cullen staring her down, as if he could see through the door. “I know you’re in there, Celisse. Your car’s outside.”
Celisse grumbled under her breath. Then she spoke loud enough for him to hear. “How do you know where I live?”
“It’s not that hard to get a person’s address—as you damn well know.”
Crap. How did he know? “What are you talking about?”
“You made it downtown so quickly because you were already in my apartment.” His jaw flexed as he continued to glare at the door. She was almost impressed he was able to maintain that intense, pissed-off posture and expression when she saw in his eyes that he was barely hanging on through the exhaustion. Like riding a bike, if he stopped, he would probably fall down.
She turned the bolt and opened the door. “How would I have gotten in your apartment—and why would I want to?”
“You flashed a beautiful smile at Alfie. Don’t tell me you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”
Celisse hesitated. Hearing him say that… She wasn’t sure how to react.
He pushed the door open a bit further and slid past her into the apartment. She didn’t think to stop him until he was already past her. She turned and looked at him standing in the middle of her little living room, like a storm cloud in her usually calm and cloudless space. This small, cheap apartment was the first place she had ever lived where she felt completely comfortable.
She realized he was looking at her, not at her eyes. She crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you want?”
His jaw tightened again, and he met her eyes like lightning flashing across the sky. “Don’t ask me why in the hell you’d want to be in my apartment.”
It took her a second to realize he was answering her previous question.
“What did you think you’d find?” he asked.
“Certainly not stacks of hundred-dollar bills.”
“It’s none of your goddamn concern how much money I have and why. Stay out of my business.”
“My best friend’s boyfriend was murdered, and then the accused slips me a note that says things aren’t what they seem. What did you think I was going to do?”
He paused, and the glare in his expression that had about blinded her a few seconds ago dulled to the glower of the moon in a clouded sky. He turned and looked around her apartment—her TV stand with a couple movies on top, the potted plant next to the sliding glass doors, her one pathetic attempt at gardening, and then over to the bookshelf where he started reading titles.
She stood next to him. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Does it annoy you?” He took a book from the shelf and flipped through its pages. “Someone going through your things, invading your privacy?”
Celisse snatched the book out of his hand, before he realized what it was.
“Are you pissed yet?” he asked.
“I wonder how it would look to the court if the police were called on you the same day you posted bail.”
He took a step toward her, and she backed up with her hands in guard position.
He stopped, and his voice was inside out from what it had been. “I would never hurt you.”
“You were arrested for murder today.”
His expression sobered, like fog pulling across a jagged cliff face. “I’m sorry. I never meant to scare you.” He walked across her living room, out the door, and down the stairs.