Hello everyone! For those that don't know me I am OutOfMyLimit17. This is my third time being apart of this block party and this year is going to be the best one yet. So many great authors are apart of this! I want to say thank you to Kelly for letting me apart of this again! 

I know it is Valentine's Day and I should post a love, sappy, cheesy, romantic kind of post but instead I decided we should go the opposite route; dark, violent, mature instead. This is a sneak peek into my new story I have recently started. It is called "The Hidden Shadow". This is my first time writing something darker so bare with me here :)

This story is up and running on my page so if you do like what you read below than feel free to head over and start reading! I do want to warn you it has mature content! But if you don't mind that then go right ahead!

Below is a blurb about what the story is about so you know what is going on....

What would you do if you were trained to be a killer? That the person you thought loved you was actually using you for a weapon? Jessie Wright thought her life couldn't get any worse as she lived on the streets but that all changed when an unknown man found her and took her in. At the age of 8 she had no clue that the man who became her father was someone you did not mess with. With a mafia boss as your father you are bound to become apart of the family business. Once Jessie was 15 years old her life changed from being a regular teenage girl to being a weapon. Being taught how to use every weapon available on the market as well as things around the house; Jessie become the thing her father wanted her to be, a killer. Now at 25 she has assassinated more people then she can remember. But what happens when one job becomes too much and Jessie says no for the first time. What happens when she goes against her father's wishes? What happens when the last person she thought would save her does? What does she do then?

So without further ado here is a sneak peek into "The Hidden Shadow"...

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The sound of metal chains echoed around me as I let loose swing after swing. My shoulders ached and my arms felt like jello but I kept going. Sweat poured off my face and rolled down my shoulder blades soaking the sports bra I had on. I had my hair pulled high on my head in a messy bun, a few pieces breaking free and sticking to my face.

The gloves I wore pounded the bag and the slight vibration from the hits went up my arms. I was oblivious to everything around me as I continued on punching the bag. It swung slightly as I hit it but the 100 pound bag didn't budge from it's spot. While I assaulted the punching bag my thoughts drifted to my father.

All I really wanted was his approval. I wanted him to be proud of me even if what I did was something I hated. Everyone wanted their parents to be proud of them and to show it. Even if it was a smile when they got an A on a test, or a pat on the back for scoring a touch down at a football game. The only time I remember ever getting an praise from my father was my first kill. He gave me a nod and squeeze on the shoulder for a mill-a-second before walking away.

It wasn't like I didn't think he loved me, I'm pretty sure he did in his own way, but most of the time I think I am just a weapon to him. A weapon he created and can use anyway he wants. He knows people are scared of me and what I can do so he uses that to his advantage a lot. I did love him and was grateful he took me in but of course like every other kid out there I hated him. There was a thin line between love and hate. I guess being taught at the age of 15 to be a killer did that to you.

I was 15 when the training started. Before that I was your average 15 year old that just happened to live with a bunch of gang members and had a powerful man as a father. I spent 7 years having nothing to do with what my father did, he had me stay out of it but like every kid I was curious about what he did when he would make me stay in my room while he did 'business'.

I think I was maybe 13 when I realized that my 'father' was basically a mafia/gang boss. He sold in drugs, weapons, had men working for him but he wasn't technically classified as a mafia boss. My father liked being in control of everything and everyone. I wasn't even sure myself what to call him and his 'business'. Byron Wright was just a dangerous man that no one wanted to cross.

The first 7 years that I came to live with Byron was actually pretty pleasant, surprisingly. From being on the streets to living in a mansion was a change for me but things could have been worse. At first Byron was nice to me, making sure I ate, had plenty of clothes, made sure I had anything I could want. You could almost say he treated me like the daughter he had always wanted. He even legally changed my last name to Wright after him.

After months had passed of me living there and getting acquainted with the maids and routine of living in an actual home Byron started being gone more and more. At first I was fine because I wasn't use to having a father figure around often anyways, but as I grew and the more I was left alone I wanted Byron to be around. I wanted to actually have that father-daughter experience.

My routine had consisted of going to school, coming home to do homework, eat dinner by myself or with the cook and maids, then go up to my room to read and sleep. That was my routine until I turned 15. Apparently that was when Byron thought it was time to make me useful. Time to make me into what he wanted to do with me in the first place.

My training was nothing short of painful. I trained for hours upon hours learning every technique you could think of. I was taught by the best of the best in each skill. I learned how to punch correctly, how to take a man out without a weapon, how to kill someone with only one shot. I learned how to shoot every type of weapon available as well knifes and how to throw them.

Because I wanted Byron to be proud of me and to show him that taking me in wasn't a mistake I put everything into my training. Even when I was exhausted and wanted to lay down I kept going. At times I did want to give up but Byron was always right there yelling at me to continue. He worked me until I was numb to everything. Because I wanted him to love me I became the best assassin he could have dreamed of.

All I would do is get up at 4 in the morning to train until 7 o'clock before school, and when I got home from school I trained again from 1:30 to 5 o'clock with no breaks. After a quick dinner I was back at it again; like clockwork. This was my new routine for the next two years.

I was 17 when I killed someone for the first time. Because I picked up all these skills so fast my father thought it was time to take me on my first job. At the time I wasn't entirely sure what I was doing. Over the last 2 years of training I had finally learned the truth about my father and the type of business he did. I just hadn't clued in just yet that I was just bred to be a killer. I guess a part of me just pushed the idea away every time it popped up because I didn't want to believe it. I had wished, hoped, that this was just something I did to pass time and to make sure I was capable of protecting myself if anything bad happened. And boy was I wrong.

I was anything but an average 17 year old, instead I was trained to assassinate people. While normal teenagers were off at football games, parties, or at the mall with their best friends; I was home learning how to slice a mans throat with dental floss. I envied the girls at school that boyfriends and tons of friends, how they got invited to all these parties.

I did have friends, back before I changed. When I first entered the new school after being taken in by Byron I was scared and had tried to make myself invisible. I was behind all the other students because it had been a good year or so since I even went to school. It did make me the odd one out as well being the 'new kid'. But there was this one girl that just had to be my friend. No matter what others said she came up to me one day at the swings and just started talking to me. From that moment on we were friends.

Her name was Sadie Brown, my first ever best friend. Even though she was only 8 she seemed to understand what I had gone through. She never tried to make me tell her my story even as we got older. She kept her distance for which I was glad. She helped me adjust to the new school and quickly we became the greatest of friends. Basically we never left each others side.

Nothing changed as we got older and as we moved our way up in grades. We never were part of the 'populars' but that was fine by us. No one knew what my father did as a living although rumors went around, which made people weary of me. I never minded because I had Sadie by my side.

Everything was going well until I turned 15. We were in our freshman year of high school and Sadie and I had big plans for the upcoming 4 years, none of which we got to do. The moment my father started letting me in on the business he told me I had to get rid of Sadie. He said that having friends would distract me, make me weak. I did protest against it and for the first time I yelled at him for trying to make me do such a thing. How could I give up my only friend?

My father did not tolerate such a thing which result in me getting a beating. No one crossed my father, not even his own 'daughter'. I had to be taught a lesson even if it was a brutal one. Lets just say I still have scars from that night. After I received my punishment he said he would take care of Sadie himself. I didn't think he would actually do anything until the next day I got a call from a terrified Sadie. I had stayed home from school that day because of the bruises covering my body so I hadn't seen or heard from her until then. She cried over the phone to me that her father had gotten in a terrible accident and may not make it. Instantly I knew it was my fathers doing.

After I hung up my father came into my room and said if I didn't want anything else to happen to Sadie's family I was to leave her alone. I of course couldn't let anything happen to her so I did what he asked. When I returned to school the following day I ignored her completely as she tried talking to me. Even when she cornered me in the cafeteria asking if I was mad at her I didn't say a word. I just pushed passed her and walked away. It took a week of me dodging her for her to get the message. It broke my heart seeing her one day just walk past me like she didn't even know who I was. While it hurt me I had to do it for her sake. After that day we never spoke again and that was the day I started loathing my father.

From that day on I just shut myself off and did what my father wanted. Having no one to talk to or be friends with I became practically dead inside. I went through the motions at school and when I got home I did what my father wanted. After my first kill I let myself sink to a dark part inside of me. I pushed all my feelings/wants away and became what my father made me to be, a stone cold killer.

Now at the age of 25 I was someone you did not want to mess with. Although my father took pride in what he made me, he made sure I went by a different name around clients. People from all over knew me as Lea Mathews when my real name is Jessie Wright. Mathews was my old last name so I wouldn't be tied to Byron. My father didn't want others to know I was his daughter, wanting to keep me a secret from everyone but he wants all the other dangerous and lethal men to know that Lea Mathews, the top assassin, works for the one and only Byron Wright.

I let out a grunt before throwing one last punch to the bag, the 100 pound bag swinging back from the force of my punch. Breathing heavy I leaned slightly on the it trying to catch my breath. The cool air blowing from the fans above me felt great on my sweaty body. I pushed away and headed for my water bottle sitting on the bench to the right of me. As I came back down to earth I registered the sounds echoing through the gym. People were scattered all around the place doing their own thing. There weren't that many people which is exactly why I picked this gym.

Patty's Gym was located in a crappy part on the outskirts of New York and the outside looked rundown making it seem like it was out of business. It seemed only a few knew that it was here and still open. While the outside looked like a dump the inside was pretty nice, it had been renovated a while ago so the inside wasn't falling apart. The equipment was pretty old. Most of the punching bags had duck tape around the holes and were grey or a light black from being worn. Chips were made in the weights and multiple ones were missing their pairs.

There was just something about Patty's that I loved. I don't know if it was the oldness of it or the quietness because no one was around. It just gave off a great vibe to me.

The owner was an older gentlemen that apparently had the place passed down to him from his father years ago. He grew up helping his father run this place, and when his father decided to retire he took over. Martin was a good man and knew not to get in people's business. Since I have been coming here for a good two years, I have gotten to know him. I know he is in his late 60's, had two granddaughters that just turned 12. His son works as a doctor at some big hospital in the Hampton's, and his daughter is a stay at home mom while her husband works as a fireman.

I have asked Martin plenty of times why he doesn't just sell the place but he always replies with 'Why would I get rid of something with so much memories?' Even though the place didn't rake in as much business as it use to Martin still keeps it open. He's retired and has nothing else to do so he figured why not keep it open as long as he can. He had enough money where he could sell it but that didn't matter to him.

Grabbing my water I gulped it down in a matter of seconds. I had been on the bag for well over an hour, never once stopping. Setting the bottle down I started taking off my gloves. It was a rule of Martin's that you had to wear some kind of glove when using the boxing bags. He didn't want blood on them, his words not mine. I didn't like using gloves since I was taught not to use them, so I always stuck with the fingerless ones that had small pads on the knuckles so they wouldn't split open.

I place the gloves on the bench before doing a few stretches so I wouldn't be sore later on. As I bent forward to touch my toes I felt eyes on me. Looking between my legs I saw a guy around my age staring straight at my ass. I was wearing yoga type pants with a sports bra which of course caught guys's attention. I always just ignored them but this guy was just leering at me like I was a piece of meat. Rolling my eyes I stretched back up and rolled my shoulders. Peaking over my shoulder I noticed the guy was lifting weights but still glancing over at me. I guess being the only girl in here at the moment I was the only 'eye candy' he could get. Little did he know I could snap his neck in a blink of an eye.

"You're still here." A new voice commented.

"When I have ever not been here for over 2 hours." I stated, turning around and facing a smiling Martin. He leaned against the bag I was just using.

"That is true. You are here longer than anyone I have seen." Martin remarked. Everyday I workout a good 2 or more hours, if I couldn't make it to the gym I'd do it at home. I did have a gym in my building but everyone went to it and I'd rather go somewhere not drawing attention to myself.

"I'm really here for you Martin." I said, cracking a small smile at him. I brought my towel up to wipe my face and neck.

"Well don't I feel special. So any plans for the night?" He asked. It was now almost 6 o'clock.

"Oh yeah big plans. Staying home to watch Netflix." Tonight I had no plans and I was glad. The last few nights I have been watching over Mr. Cannon's wife and boyfriend trying to find the best opportunity to take the guy out. It was looking forward to just staying in.

"You are young Jessie, you should go out and party." Martin said. While he knew my real name he had no idea what I did for a living. He thinks I am some assistant at a law firm downtown. "It is a Friday after all. Don't you young people always have something to do?"

"Stereotypical Martin. I'm fine just staying home and doing nothing."

"Jess, you work really hard, you deserve a day off." He sent me a fatherly look. Even if I did want to go out to a club I wouldn't know what to do. I would just sit there by myself and do nothing. It was moments like these that I wish I had friends or a friend. I haven't had one since Sadie in high school. Sad I know.

"I'll think about it." I lied. "I'll get going so you can close down. Say hello to Lauren for me okay." Martin's wife was really sweet and occasionally popped by when I was here to see her husband and bring him something to eat. They are what kids now a days called 'relationship goals'. Been together well over 30 years and still in love. They were everything I'd want when I grow old.

"I will. Be careful going home." Martin said as I threw my shirt on and grabbed my things. I knew it was well past time for him to close and I felt bad making him stay late. The guy checking me out earlier left a good 10 minutes ago now.

"Bye Martin see you later. Have a good weekend." I called as I exited the gym. My gym bag banged against my thigh as I headed for my car. My eyes took in the empty parking lot, my hand placed right above where I had my gun hidden in the side pocket of my gym bag. Habit of mine. In a split second I could pull it out and shoot someone before they could even react.

Slipping inside my car I started it and backed out, heading home. I need a shower and something to eat. Today had been a busy day and I wanted nothing more to be home.

The drive to my apartment was uneventful besides some traffic. I lived a few miles away from Patty's gym, in the slightly better part of town. I wanted to live as far away from my father's house as I could get so living near a crappy part of town was fine by me, although it still wasn't far enough for me. It was pretty low rent anyways, although that didn't really matter to me.

When I finally pulled into my parking spot I let out a sigh. Nothing sounded better than a nice long shower. I locked my car and pulled out my fake boot to put on my back tire. It made it look like the police put something on my tire so I couldn't drive it until it got taken off. It really helped keep people from not stealing my baby. Not gonna lie best thing I ever got.

I trudged up the stairs in my building, making my way up to the 7th floor, top floor of the building, where my place was. On the outside the building looked slightly run down but the instead wasn't too terrible. Sure the hallways stunk of cat pee and old people but it wasn't that bad. It was definitely an apartment building that someone lived in when they couldn't afford the rent at the nicer buildings.

Most apartments were full and being the slightly nice person that I am met a few of my neighbors but never bothered to remember their names. When I reached my door, apartment number 235, I stuck my keys in the lock and slide inside. Immediately I latched the chain and the other locks I had put on myself. Better safe than sorry.

One thing that I loved about living alone was making the place exactly as I wanted. While the outside of the building and the hallways were kind of crap the inside of my place did not. Some would think it belonged in a better building with the large layout and nice furniture.

When you first walked in you were met with the living room and kitchen mix. The kitchen stood off to my left a little bit and straight ahead was the living room. For an apartment the kitchen was nice and big, same with the living room. A couch big enough for 6 people sat in front of a flat screen TV. Side tables, lamps, and a big comfy chair sat off to the other side as well. On the fair side of the living room was an archway that lead to my bedroom, a spare bedroom and a small room that held the washer and dryer. Both bedrooms were across from one another with in-suite bathrooms, which I loved. And down a little bit was the laundry room, also nice that I didn't have to go somewhere else in the building to wash my clothes.

One of the best thing to me was the window that lead up to the roof. The fire escape was right outside my window, so all I had to do was go up a little bit of stairs before reaching the roof.

Over the years I had gotten stuff to make it homey and more me. This was my place that I could do whatever I wanted, even if that included sitting on the couch all day eating crap. I had even transformed the spare room into my own little workout room. Why waste a room when it was only me.

Sticky with sweat I made my way to my bedroom to go shower. The one room I loved more than any other was my bathroom. Apparently the previous owner redid the whole bathroom making it twice the size that it normally would be. Sure that cut the bedroom down a little but I didn't mind, plus the room was still pretty large.

When you entered the bedroom right away you saw my queen sized bed in the center of the room, little side tables on either side. To the right side of the room was my dresser and a doorway that lead to my bathroom. When you entered the bathroom to your right you would find two sinks against the wall with a huge mirror. On your left hand side was a huge tub that could easily fit 4 people maybe more; definitely one of the nicest baths I have ever sat in. Next to the bath was a small 'room' where the toilet was, it had a door so at least you had some privacy.

Now to the best part. Straight ahead was a walk in shower that was HUGE. For more privacy you walked straight in and turn to your right where the shower head would be a few steps away. A section of wall covered it so you couldn't be seen. And because the shower head was further down from the entrance no water leaked out. The owners had upgraded the crappy plastic tiles for real tile that was a light brown color making it seem even fancier. A small built in seat sat in the corner, nice for shaving legs. The shower head was by far my favorite part. Instead of regular shower heads letting water drip out this came down in almost a waterfall motion. About 30 or so jets dripped water making it feel like you were standing in a rainstorm. You could even switch the type by turning the head. There were three settings and all were fantastic. It is like showering in the rain forest or something. I never wanted to hug the past owners more than I did when I found out about it.

Stripping out of my work out clothes and letting my hair fall from it's high ponytail I padded inside the shower. Having already started it the water was nice and warm making me shiver. If showering could be labeled as an activity it would definitely be mine. I have always just loved standing underneath the water and letting it splash onto me. Almost like it was washing away everything on me and letting me start fresh. It was the one place I could be alone with my thoughts and feel comforted. It is like the water was hugging me and giving me the long awaited affection I always wanted.

Standing under the water I let my day roll right off of me, letting it take away the anger I felt towards my father and the anger at myself for letting me become this way. I turned the water to as high as I could stand it, my skin turning a soft pink. Tilting my head up water fell onto my face and rolled down my nose and chin. With my eyes closed I could almost picture myself coming home from a long day at work and taking a nice long shower. A job that I didn't kill people or acted like I was someone else.

After standing under the water for 10 minutes I finally started washing my hair and body. That didn't take me long and sooner than I would have liked I was shutting the water off and reaching for my towel. My skin was pruned, notifying me I had been in the shower long enough, although I wanted it to be longer.

Wrapping a fluffy towel around my body I stepped out, shivering slightly from the cooler air. This was the worst part about showering or even bathing, stepping out you always froze until you put some clothes on. I quickly made my way to my bedroom for some comfy pjs to change into. I was shivering wrapping the towel tighter around me. In no time I had a the most comfortable pair of long fuzzy bottoms and a big t-shirt, which I bought purposely like that.

All bundled up I made my way back to the bathroom to finish. I had forgotten about my contacts and right on cue they started to burn and itch my eyes, a tail sign I had them in too long. Putting the towel up I started on taking my contacts out and putting them in the right cases.

I didn't mind wearing my green contacts and I even had a few other colors in my bathroom. It was a rule my father had. If I go out to receive payments or business deals I had to wear some sort of contact. It was like he thought keeping my eye color a secret would help people not recognize me. I usually wore all black anyways and had my hair pulled back so you couldn't see too much of it. At first I didn't get why I had to go to such lengths but now that I am older I get why. I wasn't keen on getting killed so early but enemies of my fathers or of mine.

After I was clear of my fake eye color I stared into the mirror. Being up close to it I could make out every freckle, crease on my face. Without the green contacts my blue eyes looked dull and boring. I had a few scars on my hairline, a small one by eye, and a few near my neck. A few I got before I started my training but most are from having knives thrown at me or being hit by someone. They weren't too noticeable but since I knew they were there they were more clear.

Brushing my hair I let out a sigh not liking looking at myself in the mirror. It wasn't like I wasn't attractive. I hated seeing myself because it just reminded me how stuck I am. How I am someone who kills people for a living and has to live with that for the rest of her life. The person in front of me wasn't me; it is what my father made.

There have been so many times I have wondered what my life would be like if I hadn't been found on the streets at 8. Would I have made something of my life? Would I have gone to college and gotten a successful job? Had a boyfriend? These were common questions for me. Most of the time I wouldn't let myself think of it because it would just make me hate this life even more, something I shouldn't feel. If it wasn't for Byron I would have been stuck on the streets begging for food, wouldn't have a roof under my head or money. So I did owe him for that. If only I had known before what would come of meeting him.

Finishing up in the bathroom I headed out to the living room to make something to eat. After working out for 3 hours I was spent and starving. It was well after 7 now and I hadn't eaten since noon.

Not liking the silence through my apartment I turned on the tv to some random station before looking for something to eat. I did not like silence, it made me on edge for some reason. Well I technically couldn't say I hate silence because at times I treasure it. Silence is sometimes my savior. With some Extra or Hollywood thing playing in the background, I searched my fridge and pantry for something to make. Having lived on my own for the past 5 years I have learned how to cook and not just make ramen every meal. And I had to say I had gotten pretty damn good.

It didn't take me long to make some dinner. 20 minutes later I was sitting on my couch with a bowl of homemade thai noodles scrolling through different channels. I was definitely living the dream....note the sarcasm.

It was times like this where I could finally sit down at home and relax. Most nights I am out doing something for my father and when I do get home it is late at night and I just want to sleep. Times where I can just sit down and not do anything is rare for me but very much appreciated.

Putting the tv on the movie Mean Girls I watched it blindly while eating. I almost completely zoned out while eating, not really thinking of anything particular. My mind tended to drift sometimes, like going into a void that I can't get out of. I guess that is what happens when you are trained to kill people without batting an eyelash.

I hate when all I could think about was my fathers plans. I just wanted to shut that part of my brain down and just forget about it. Just sit here watching Mean Girls like a normal 25 year old on a Friday night. Physically shaking myself to get out of my own thoughts I sat my bowl on the table in front of me, before curling my legs under me, settling in for the rest of the night.

Grabbing the blanket I had thrown over the back of the black leather couch I draped it across my lap. Nothing like a good fuzzy blanket to wrap in even if it hot outside. I was just one of those people that could have a blanket wrapped around some part of their body, even if it is 100 degree's outside.

The night went quickly by and before I knew it, it was already 11 o'clock at night. Mean Girls had finished and I was currently almost through Legally Blonde. My eye lids were having a hard time staying open. Not getting any sleep the day before and being busy all day today, I was having the hardest time staying up. But since I only had a few minutes left of the movie I forced myself to stay up.

When the movie finally ended I turned off the tv and tided up the living room. I was glad I put my dishes away earlier so I didn't have to do it now at 11:20 pm. Stifling a yawn, I trudged to my bedroom already feeling my bed. After going to the bathroom and brushing my teeth I settled into my comfortable bed. With my phone plugged in and on silent, I switched off my light. I checked the hand gun I had placed on my night stand to make sure the safety was on and that it was loaded. I never went anywhere without it and I never went to sleep without it. Who knows if someone would break in here. I silently prayed to have a dreamless sleep tonight. Most nights I never got my wish but I doesn't hurt to ask every time.

So if you liked that little sneak peek that feel free to head over to my page and read the story. :)

Also remember I am giving away a prize at the end of the block party! What you can win is a Dedication and A review of one of your books!! In order to win make sure to follow me on here and on Twitter: Kendoll350. I wish you guys all the luck! There are so many good prizes you can win this time around! May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor :)

Thank you guys again!! 

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