Today, I'm hosting a promo on Addy Anders's latest release, Shattered Hopes (Letters of Ruin #2), as a part of the ongoing release blitz tour. Check it out! Also enjoy a short excerpt from the featured book. Note that Shattered Hopes is free in kindle unlimited!!
Addy Anders
(Letters of Ruin #2)
Published: February 23, 2026
He stole my brother. So, I stole his freedom…There’s a villain in all of us.
I just never realized that until the worst day of my life.
It started with a sandwich from a stranger—an act of kindness that was nothing more than a veneer to hide the devil behind the mask.
Renzo Iannelli took everything from me that day. My family. My life. My future.
I wasn’t even a blip on his radar when he made me an orphan—left alone to be bruised and abused in foster care—all for the sake of his revenge.
Well, he got his. Now, I’m going to get mine.
No matter how long it takes, no matter what I have to sacrifice, I will make him rue the day he destroyed my life.
But the world is never black and white, and there are far more heartless monsters closing in around me.
So what happens when the devil I know becomes the only person I can trust?
He was my downfall.
I never expected him to also be my redemption.
**This book spans over eight years and is divided into three parts: then, letters, and now. During the “then” portion of this book, the main female character, Ainsley, is a minor. As a disclaimer, there is absolutely no romantic interaction during that portion of the book. However, this section is crucial to the development of their romance later on.
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I thought he hadn’t seen me. I hoped he hadn’t. Out of sight, out of mind kind of thing, but he had, and now Boyan was exposed to him too.
“Cool car.” Boyan’s little voice trilled with excitement and awe as he squirmed out of my hold. His head peeked through the shotgun window. “Whoa. Anzy, it’s blue. Blue like Sally. Mister, that’s a girl’s car.”
I sucked my chuckle back in where it belonged and pinched my lips together. Still, a grimaced smile crept up my face from the shock on Renzo Iannelli’s.
“It’s not,” the outraged mafia man stated.
“Yes, it is.”
“Is not.”
“Is.
“Not.”
“Is.”
“Are you seriously arguing with a five-year-old right now?” I ridiculed.
“I win.” Boyan tossed his little arms in the air. The sleeves of his size seven shirt on his five-year-old frame slipped down to his shoulders, exposing the wrinkled, scarred skin on his left shoulder and bicep.
Iannelli cleared his throat, his fist wrestling the steering wheel. “Get in the damn car.”
“Language,” I snapped back, mockingly covering Boyan’s ears before he wiggled away. Honestly, the little chipmunk probably knew more curse words than polite vocabulary at this point.
Renzo Iannelli’s jaw clenched, and the veins along his neck popped out. Totally worth it. Jerkwad. His eyes death-glared at me, a silent dare to continue defying him. I almost did. Pissing him off gave me the same high as a slice of black forest cake—so freaking delicious—but I wanted a car ride more.
“Cool car.” Boyan’s little voice trilled with excitement and awe as he squirmed out of my hold. His head peeked through the shotgun window. “Whoa. Anzy, it’s blue. Blue like Sally. Mister, that’s a girl’s car.”
I sucked my chuckle back in where it belonged and pinched my lips together. Still, a grimaced smile crept up my face from the shock on Renzo Iannelli’s.
“It’s not,” the outraged mafia man stated.
“Yes, it is.”
“Is not.”
“Is.
“Not.”
“Is.”
“Are you seriously arguing with a five-year-old right now?” I ridiculed.
“I win.” Boyan tossed his little arms in the air. The sleeves of his size seven shirt on his five-year-old frame slipped down to his shoulders, exposing the wrinkled, scarred skin on his left shoulder and bicep.
Iannelli cleared his throat, his fist wrestling the steering wheel. “Get in the damn car.”
“Language,” I snapped back, mockingly covering Boyan’s ears before he wiggled away. Honestly, the little chipmunk probably knew more curse words than polite vocabulary at this point.
Renzo Iannelli’s jaw clenched, and the veins along his neck popped out. Totally worth it. Jerkwad. His eyes death-glared at me, a silent dare to continue defying him. I almost did. Pissing him off gave me the same high as a slice of black forest cake—so freaking delicious—but I wanted a car ride more.
About the Author:
Addy Anders writes romance meant to tug hard on your heartstrings and never let go. Her books deliver deliciously possessive anti-heroes, strong heroines, a touch of angst to set you on edge, and a cocktail of spice.
Addy loves to travel, preferably outside of major cities. When she’s not writing or out in the wilderness, she can be found with her kindle and a very large cup of tea surrounded by her very supportive husband, two kiddos, and two fur babies.
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