HAVOC by Harley Wylde #MCromance #bikerromance #NewRelease #NewAdult #olderhero #MayDecember @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

I saw her and knew I couldn’t walk away.
I just didn’t realize I’d want to keep her. Forever.

 

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Contemporary, Romantic Comedy,
MC Romance, New Adult, Silver Fox

Jordan — I spent a year in prison for a crime I admittedly did commit, but I had a good reason. I was supposed to serve a longer sentence, but a handsy guard and a pissed-off warden who wanted me to keep quiet meant I got out early. My brothers have abandoned me, and there’s nowhere for me to go. Until the hottest man I’ve ever met decides to be my knight on shining Harley. He only thinks he knows me though, and if he ever finds out I was locked up for a violent crime he might walk away. For some reason, the thought sends me into a panic. Havoc isn’t at all what I’m used to, but maybe he’s just what I need.

Havoc — No way the pretty blonde was doing hard time for anything bad. Just looking into her eyes, I can see how sweet she is. There’s a vulnerability there that makes me want to wrap her in my arms and never let her go. When I find out the same prison that nearly killed me was trying to cover up another incident, one involving the woman I can’t stop staring at — the goddess with the body of a porn star — fury flows through me. Whatever it takes, I’ll keep her safe, because if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that what happens in that prison doesn’t stay there. Whoever hurt her will be coming, and I’m going to be ready for them. No one touches what’s mine, and Jordan may not realize it but I’m not letting her go.

WARNING: Contains some violence, a lot of bad language, super hot scenes that may require cold showers, a sassy sarcastic heroine, and a badass biker who won’t stop until he has what he wants.

Get it Today at Changeling Press

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Harley Wylde

While I’d been locked up my Nikes had mysteriously vanished. I’d been given prison issued flip-flops to wear home instead. Not only were they hideous, but I could feel every damn pebble in the road as I walked toward what I hoped was the nearest town.

The prison I’d been sentenced to wasn’t near my home area, and I honestly didn’t have a fucking clue how to get back without someone picking me up. My money wouldn’t buy me a bus ticket, or much else for that matter. I seriously doubted that motel rooms had dropped in price enough for me to get one, which meant I would be sleeping outside if I couldn’t find a way to reach one of my bonehead brothers, and hope the jackass actually came to get me. Unlike Dopey.

The sun beat down on me and sweat trickled down my spine. I could feel my hair sticking to my neck and wished I had a way to pull it up. I hadn’t gotten it cut while I was locked up and it was now nearly down to my waist. As I looked off in the distance, the road looked a little hazy and I wondered just how fucking hot it was today. Summer in Florida was no fucking joke. I paused when I heard a rustle off to my right and my gut clenched. Please don’t be a hungry gator.

A rabbit bounded out of the brush and darted across the road, making me sigh in relief that it wasn’t something about to make a snack out of me. I kept walking, but it felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the prison in the distance and figured I’d probably walked two or three miles. Nowhere near far enough, since I still didn’t see any sign of a town on the horizon.

The longer I walked, the drier my throat became. My legs felt like they would give out at any moment, but I trudged onward. It wasn’t like I had much of a choice. If I was lucky, Dopey would finally show up at the prison and someone would tell him which direction I took. I wasn’t entirely sure he’d come after me though. My brothers acted like it was entirely my fault I’d been in prison. And maybe I did need to control my temper better, but I’d been defending my family! That should have counted for something, right?

Apparently not.

I could feel my body swaying and dots were swimming across my vision. Had it gotten even hotter? My mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and my limbs were getting heavier. The next step I took, I went down hard on the pavement. As much as I fought to get up, I just couldn’t do it. Instead, I fell forward and just lay there, panting and wondering if I was about to die after having survived a year in hell.

A roar filled my ears and made my eardrums vibrate. I wondered if it was a common sound to hear when you were dying. The sound came closer, got louder, then shut off. I heard someone say a string of bad words that would have a made a sailor proud, then heavy steps came toward me.

“Miss? Hey, you all right?”

Whoever he was, his voice was deep and rich. I struggled to open my eyes, but everything was a big blur. I got the impression of a rather massive man dressed in black, and that was about it. Before I could say or do anything, I could feel myself slipping away again. The man cursed once more, then I was lifted into his arms. I heard more bikes and what sounded like a loud truck or SUV. I tried to focus on the voices, but I couldn’t keep up with the conversation.

Something cool and wet was placed against my lips and I eagerly slurped the water.

“Easy,” someone said. “Don’t want to get sick.”

They took the bottle of water away and I whined, wanting more.

“Let’s get her into the truck. The AC has been running and we need to lower her body temp. She’s burning up,” said another voice.

“I didn’t see a vehicle broken down anywhere. You think some asshole kicked her out of their car?”

Now that voice I recognized. The man who had first stopped to help me. My savior. Well, I hoped that’s what he would be. If they had something nefarious planned for me, I honestly didn’t have the strength to fight them.

The icy air coasted over my skin as someone laid me across the seat of the truck. Eventually, I was able to open my eyes and focus a bit more. A group of big bikers were staring into the vehicle. One of them helped me sit up and drink some more water.

“How long you been out here, sweetheart?” a giant with red hair asked. It was the man who had stopped to help. The one with the voice I could listen to all day and never grow tired of.

“Don’t know. Since ten o’clock?” I said, my voice croaking a bit.

“Ten?” an Asian man asked, his eyebrows shooting upward. “Damn. That was five hours ago. Where the hell were you going on foot?”

“Town.”

“Sweetheart, town is another ten miles down the road,” the redhead said. “Why are you on the side of the road? Some asshole kick you out of the car?”

“My brother was supposed to give me a ride. He never showed.”

The men shared a look then the redhead’s gaze sharpened on me. “A ride? From where?”

I licked my lips and looked away, but he reached out and forced me to look him in the eye. Something about his gaze made me want to answer his question, like I needed to obey.

“The prison,” I said. “They released me today and my brother was supposed to pick me up.”

“Shit.” One of them stalked off then came back. “How long were you inside?”

“A year.” Which was the truth. It just hadn’t been the full sentence I was supposed to serve. I wasn’t about to volunteer that information, though. I hoped they didn’t ask why I’d been locked up. All I wanted was a ride to town, and maybe a way to call my brothers and see if one of them would come get me.

“Just a year?” the Asian man asked. “Drugs?”

“No. I’ve never taken or sold drugs.”

“Prostitution?” the redhead asked.

I stared at him. “Really? I look like a whore? Thanks.”

He shrugged then his gaze landed on my bare legs. I felt my cheeks warm, but my face was probably so red from the sun it wasn’t noticeable. Even if he wasn’t painting me in a flattering light, he was probably the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. Not in that pretty boy kind of way, but in a rough, rugged, and manly type of way. His red hair gleamed in the sunlight and the full beard along his jaw made me wonder if it was as soft as it looked. When he lifted his blue gaze from my legs, I knew I’d remember that heated look of his for a long-ass time.

“What’s your name, darlin’?”

 

WHERE TO FIND HARLEY…

harleywylde.com

Harley on Facebook

When Harley is writing, her motto is the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place.

New to audiobook! Claiming the Virgin series by Paige Warren #audiobooks #Audible #eroticromance #NewAdult #NewRelease @AuthorPaigeW

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Claiming the Virgin is an erotic romance series with young heroines and older heroes. It falls under New Adult romance as well as May/December romance. If you like men who take what they want and damn the consequences, then Claiming the Virgin just might be right for you. This audiobook series is narrated by Miranda Mendius.

 

SHERIFF’S WANTON VIRGIN

Jilly

He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and he’s completely forbidden. I’ve been in love with my dad’s best friend since I turned five; he gave me a tiara and called me his little princess. Except, I don’t want to be his princess anymore. I want to be his queen.

I’ve taken a job at the sheriff’s department, just to be under his nose. I’ll wear my shortest skirts and my tightest shirts, and I will do whatever it damn well takes to get the sexy sheriff to notice me. Interoffice romance is frowned upon, but some rules are made to be broken.

Joshua

When I walked into my office and saw the most luscious ass I’ve ever laid eyes on, the first thing I wanted to do was get under that skirt and inside her as fast as I could. And that’s precisely what I did.

Then her dad showed up and greeted his precious baby girl.

I’m well and truly fucked now. Not only did I claim the virginity of my best friend’s daughter, but I plan to take her again…and again…and again. She may be twenty years younger than me, but damn if I don’t feel eighteen again when Jilly is around.

No cliffhanger, no cheating, dual POV, HEA

EBOOK RETAILERS:

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Purchase on Audible in: United States / United Kingdom / France Germany

Also available at Amazon and iTunes

Try and audiobook sample!

HIS VIRGIN BABYSITTER

Ashley

I’ve wanted Liam Doherty for as long as I can remember, even when he was married. Maybe it was the Irish accent, or maybe it was just his ripped abs. But now he’s a sexy single dad in need of a babysitter. Is it wrong that when I hold that precious baby I imagine that she’s mine and we’re a family?

But what would an Irish hunk want with a college dropout?

Liam

My tongue nearly hit the floor when I opened my front door to the goddess on my porch. And now she’s babysitting for me, and all I can think about is how spectacular she’d look spread across my bed. Watching her with my daughter doesn’t douse my desire even a little. If anything, it just makes me want her more.

But there’s twenty years between us. Why would a sexy little thing like her want an old man like me?

No cliffhanger, No cheating, Dual POV, HEA

EBOOK RETAILERS:

Amazon / B&N / iTunes / Kobo / Walmart

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Purchase on Audible: United States / United Kingdom / France / Germany

Also available on Amazon and iTunes

VIRGIN UNDER THE MISTLETOE

Danika

Killian Reid. Even saying his name makes my panties damp. He has to be the sexiest man I’ve ever met, even if he is twenty-one years older than me. I’ve been crushing on him since I was fifteen. For six years, my Christmas wish has been for Killian to notice me. I never thought it was possible – until now.

Killian

Holy hell. It was supposed to be a quick peck on the lips under some mistletoe, but damn. Little Danika Parker isn’t all that little anymore, with curves in all the right places. I’m pretty sure I’ll be reliving that hot as fuck kiss for a while. This Christmas, the only present I want to unwrap is her.

No cliffhanger, no cheating, dual POV, HEA

EBOOK RETAILERS:

Amazon / B&N / iTunes Kobo / Walmart

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Purchase on Audible: United States / United Kingdom / FranceFrance / Germany

Also available on Amazon and iTunes

Can’t Get Enough by Harley Wylde #rockstar #RomanceBooks #newadult #NewRelease #preorder @HarleyW_Writer

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Publisher: JCS Books
Cover Artist: Jessica Smith
Genres/Themes: Rockstar, New Adult, Erotic
Release Date: December 18, 2018

JACE

When Sinful Seduction made it big, my life changed, and not always in awesome ways. The groupies were great at first, until one decided to fake a pregnancy and claim the kid was mine. My bandmates had my back, and while the woman backed down fast when I demanded a paternity test, it still shook me. I knew it was time for another change, one where I kept my pants zipped. And then I saw her across the bar… the goddess with golden waves, and her sexy little librarian outfit. I knew she was different, and I wanted to make her mine. Should have known better than to get drunk in Vegas. You know how they say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas? Bullshit. Total and complete bullshit. But maybe this time my mistake will turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.

HONEY

I dumped my cheating fiancée, hopped a plane to Vegas, and hit the latest writer’s convention. On what should have been my wedding day, I was throwing back drinks like they were fruit punch. To be fair, they probably had fruit punch in them. When I woke up the next morning with a hard body pressed to mine, and a silver band on a very important finger, I thought I’d screwed up more than ever before. Imagine my surprise when the wannabe rocker I married turned out to be even more famous than me — and wait for it — he wanted to stay married! Even with a battered heart, I still believed in happily-ever-after, but what could a rock star and a romance author have in common?

Chemistry… Intense, curl your toes, melt your panties chemistry. Relationships have been based on worse, right?

*WARNING: If you don’t like foul-mouthed bad boys, lots of hot sex, and an accidental marriage, then you should probably skip this book.

Available at Bookstrand, AmazonB&N Kobo, and iTunes
Releasing December 18th

Excerpt

(c) 2018, Harley Wylde
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

JACE

I stared into the crowd, their faces and writhing bodies a blur under the multi-hued lights. Sweat rolled down my temples and my spine as the lyrics poured out of me, more out of habit than passion. Fierce Seduction had been at the top of the charts for the past year as we’d toured the country. My fingers flew over the strings of my guitar, the riffs to the songs coming as easy as the women screaming my name. I couldn’t look at them without seeing her face, the stupid cunt who thought she was going to catch herself a one-way ticket to stardom.

It had been the week from hell. A groupie I’d fucked nearly a damn year ago contacted my manager, threatening to go public if I didn’t pay her a million dollars to keep quiet. She claimed the baby she’d had two weeks before was my son, but I knew better. I was super fucking cautious when it came to fucking the whores who threw themselves at me. I not only wore a condom, but I usually pulled out too. No way in hell I was getting trapped by some gold-digging bitch.

Fuck. Would this concert never end? We were playing Vegas, and the venue was sold out. It was our last show before heading home on Monday. The band had agreed we’d play Friday night, then fuck around for two days on the strip before flying back to L.A. Best fucking idea ever. I wasn’t big into gambling, but the bar at the Bellagio was calling my name. I was certain they had several bottles of vodka with my name on them. I just hadn’t decided if I was celebrating the fact that the kid wasn’t mine or trying to drown myself over the fuckery that was my life. When you’d fucked enough women that they all blurred together, and your reputation was so tattered those same women thought they could blackmail you, then maybe it was time to get off the merry-go-round.

The last few bars of the song played out, our final for this show, and I couldn’t wait to get the hell off the stage. The fans screamed and catcalled, all of them wanting a piece of us. It had been a thrill a minute when the stardom had first hit. I couldn’t believe how lucky we’d been, or that we were finally riding the top of the charts. There was this huge rush when we took the stage, or when some hot college girl tossed her panties at me, or better yet, informed me she wasn’t wearing any. I’d definitely earned my reputation as a panty dropper. I’d been proud as hell of the way women fawned all over me, until that wake-up call last week. Nothing can kill your buzz quicker than some chick claiming she got knocked up with your kid, some faceless stranger you fucked and forgot. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I’d ever learned her name before bending her over.

Backstage, I snagged a bottle of water and guzzled the entire damn thing. Tossing it into the trash, I braced myself for what came next. The adoring fans who had backstage passes. A VIP room had been set up for the occasion, and I knew those women only wanted one thing. To lay claim to one of us for the night, hell, even for an hour.

“You in a hurry to get your dick wet?” Simon asked with a leer. “A room full of free pussy, and it’s all ours for the taking.”

“I’m signing some autographs then I’m getting the fuck out of here,” I said as I stormed down the hallways toward a fate worse than death.

“Since when do you turn away free pussy?”

“Since Rochelle.” I’d tried not to utter that cunt’s name, but it was ingrained in my memory ever since I’d gotten the letter from her attorney.

Simon winced. “That was some rotten luck, but it all worked out. You demanded that paternity test and proved her to be the fucking liar that she is. You’re not going to let one woman fuck with your head like that, are you?”

I shrugged and pushed through the doors to the VIP room. The squeals and shrieks assaulted my ears as about six pairs of hands reached for me. Revulsion rolled through me as I looked at their too-heavy makeup and skin tight clothes. Why had I ever been attracted to women like these? They were desperate and didn’t care who they hurt, as long as they got what they wanted. Me.

Signing whatever they thrust my way—paper, water bottles, boobs—I finally made my way through the crowd and out the doors on the opposite side. When I rushed outside of the venue, I ignored the screaming fans, trusting that security would keep them off my back while I disappeared into the night. I took several detours, making sure I wasn’t followed, and finally arrived at the Bellagio. I’d stayed here before when I wasn’t touring with the band, and as I stepped inside, it felt like the building was welcoming me back. The place was packed, but I managed to find a spot at the end of the bar. Hopefully out of sight of everyone but the bartender.

I motioned for him to come over and ordered six shots of vodka. They burned on the way down as I slammed one after another. It would take a hell of a lot more to get me shitfaced, but it was a decent start. The next hour blurred as I downed everything from vodka to whiskey to Jagermeister.  I felt warm, and loose, and completely blissed out by the time I noticed her.

My eyes took in the neat updo and the prim glasses perched on her nose. The way she sipped at the fruity drink in front of her made me think this wasn’t her usual scene. The dress she had on was sexy yet sedate. Fuck if she didn’t make me burn hotter than the god damn sun. Her lips, a succulent berry color, fit around the straw of her red drink, and I watched as her gaze flitted around the room. The jackass next to her was so fucking drunk he nearly knocked her off the barstool twice, earning the creep a glare that would have made a cross nun proud. I half expected her to whip out a ruler and rap his knuckles with it.

Whoever this angel was, I knew I wanted to find out more about her, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to do that sitting way over here. I shouldered my way through the crowd and shoved the drunk off his stool before claiming it for myself. She blinked up at me in surprise, the blue depths of her eyes pulling me in. The angel licked her lips as she leaned a little closer.

Holy Hell.

“Thank you,” she murmured, a slight slur to her words. Just how many of those drinks had she had?

“I won’t knock you off your stool, but I can’t promise I won’t sweep you off your feet.”

What. The. Fuck. Did that shit really just come out of my mouth?

She giggled, and her cheeks flushed pink. It was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen. She had this sexy librarian vibe going and my fingers itched to get her out of that dress. Was she wearing plain cotton underneath or something lacy and hot as fuck? I’d never chased a woman before, but this little beauty was enough to knock me to my knees. Yeah, I’d gladly worship at the altar of…

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Honey.”

My eyebrows rose. “Seriously?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Honeysuckle. My mother was a hippy.”

Oh yeah, I’d gladly worship at the altar of Honey.

“Jace,” I said, holding out my hand.

 

About Harley

International Bestselling Author.
When Harley is writing, her motto is the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place.

Visit Harley on her website, or you can follow her on BookBub or Amazon!

 

 

Wraith (Dixie Reapers MC) by Harley Wylde #MCromance #bikerromance #newadult #olderhero #NewRelease @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

I’m not the kind of man to give a woman a fairy tale ending.
But for Rin, I’m willing to try.

 

Wraith (Dixie Reapers MC 8)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Genres/Themes: Contemporary, Christmas, MC Romance, New Adult
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Rin — My mom died when I was little, and my dad followed when I was fifteen. My half-brother, the nastiest human being I’ve ever met, convinced people to grant him custody. More likely he bribed people. My life has been hell since then. Every time I try to run, he finds me, tortures me, and makes sure I toe the line. This time will be different. I’m asking the Dixie Reapers for help. If they turn me away, I’m as good as dead, but even that’s preferable to what my half-brother has planned for me next.

I didn’t count on the sexy man with the dark, brooding eyes. The man who defended me only seconds after laying eyes on me. The man who makes me want things I’ve never wanted before. I knew better than to sleep with him, knew I wasn’t good enough. When he rejects me, I run. Discovering several weeks later that he left a little part of himself inside of me is even more terrifying than my half-brother finding me.

Wraith — I’m not the settling down type. Maybe once upon a time, but not anymore. While I was serving overseas, my sister was left for dead in a gutter. I failed her. Failed my parents, who made me promise to protect her before they breathed their last. Now I’m faced with Rin, the strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. She needs a protector, and I’ll gladly be that for her. I want her. Want to keep her and make her mine. I’ve fucked my share of women over the years, but I’ve never made love to one. Until her. But I’m no good for her, or anyone else. She thinks she’s not worthy of me, but it’s the other way around. Then she runs and I feel like a piece of my soul has been ripped out. Finding her won’t be easy, but I won’t stop until she’s back in my home, in my bed. And I’ll make sure that every asshole who ever laid a hand on her is buried six feet under or rotting in prison. No one will ever hurt her again.

It never occurred to me that I would be the asshole to hurt her. I stopped believing in Christmas miracles a long time ago, but now I really need one. I need Rin back, and I’ll do anything to make her mine.

Warning: Bondage. Spanking. Anal sex. Over the top, melt your e-reader, make your panties wet sex. If you don’t like those things, this book probably isn’t for you.

 

Now Available at Changeling Press

Pre-Order at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, and Kobo for December 7th

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Harley Wylde

Approaching the gates, I rubbed my hands up and down my denim-clad thighs. I shivered in the cold air despite the sun shining brightly. It might be the south, but it was also five weeks until Christmas and cold as hell. Thanksgiving had passed just two days ago, and the weather had changed drastically almost overnight. My threadbare coat didn’t provide much protection as the wind whipped my hair around me and sent icy chills down my body. A man was leaning against a booth near the gate, and when I approached, he straightened to a rather imposing height. Then again, I was barely five feet tall, so pretty everyone was taller than me.

I didn’t recognize him, but I did know the look he had in his eyes. It was the same one I saw every time my brother had introduced me to someone he deemed important. I hated that fucking look, but I bit my tongue because I needed help, and I’d do almost anything to escape my brother. It’s not like this guy would ask me for something I hadn’t been forced to do already.

“I need to see Johnny or Kayla,” I said as I stopped in front of the gate.

His gaze took me in from head to toe. “Are they expecting you?”

“No, but it’s important.”

He stared at me for what felt like forever before opening the gate. As I stepped inside, his hand closed around my arm and he drew me to a halt.

“Need to check you for weapons,” he said with a leer.

Yeah. I just bet he did. I spread my arms out, even though it made me colder. His hands went under my coat and lingered a little too long at my breasts before working down my body. When he pushed my legs apart and brought them up the insides of my thighs, I clamped my legs shut before he could go too high.

“Have to check everywhere,” he said.

“Robby, what the fuck are you doing?” a man asked as he came toward us.

“She asked to see Kayla and Saint. Making sure she’s not carrying any weapons,” Robby said.

The guy eyed me up and down and shook his head.

“First of all, Preacher isn’t letting an unknown person anywhere near his wife and kids. Second, if you think Saint can’t handle a tiny-ass woman like her, I’ll be happy to let him know it.”

Robby paled. “Sorry, Gears.”

The man I now knew was called Gears held out a hand to me. And from that little bit of conversation, it seemed Johnny was now known as Saint. It fit him. Even back in high school, he’d tried to save people. I was counting on that, hoping he’d be willing to save me too.

“Come on, darlin’. Let’s get you out of this cold weather and I’ll find Saint for you,” the man called Gears said.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, trying to stop my teeth from chattering.

He led me up the steps of a building across the lot and held the door open for me. Heat made my cheeks sting and it felt like thousands of needles were stabbing me as my body adjusted to the toasty air. Gears led me over to a small table near the bar and pulled out a chair for me.

“Sit here and I’ll see where Saint is. Who do I tell him is here?”

“Rin. From the old neighborhood,” I said.

He nodded and went to the other side of the room before pulling out his phone. I couldn’t hear anything he said, but he cast a few glances my way. While I waited for him to come back, I surveyed the area. I’d always wondered what the Dixie Reapers compound looked like from inside the fence. This building wasn’t quite the way I’d pictured it, and I could imagine a lot of wild parties within the walls. I knew those parties had never used the girls my brother pimped out, though, so whatever women hooked up with the men here did so of their own free will.

The door opened again and two more men came in wearing the leather vests all the bikers wore around town. One in particular drew my attention. His hair was dark, and he had a beard that made me itch to feel it, see if it was as soft as it looked. But his eyes were hard, the kind of eyes I’d seen on soldiers and men who had killed for a living. He moved with lethal grace and came to tower over me. I’d learned long ago to let my shoulders droop a little and hunch a bit to seem smaller when confronted with large, scary men.

“Who the fuck are you?” the man next to him asked.

My gaze jerked over to him and widened a little. The man was huge and more than just a little intimidating.

“Rin,” I said softly.

“No outsiders allowed,” he said. “If you’re here to party, you’re shit out of luck. It’s family time until the holidays. Whores can come back after the new year.”

I swallowed hard and lowered my gaze. Of course he’d call me that. It’s what my brother had made me, and I struggled to get up. I couldn’t seem to make my legs work quite right, those prickling needles still stabbing me as my body thawed out, and I kept falling back into the chair.

“Why are you here?” the other man asked, his tone softer.

“Does it matter, Wraith?” the bigger man asked. “She’s trespassing.”

I heard Gears come up behind me. “She’s looking for Saint, but he’s not answering his phone, and no one has seen him. Even Preacher and Kayla don’t know where he is.”

“Why do you want to see Saint?” Wraith asked.

“I need help. We went to high school together. I knew…” I stopped and looked at each of them. “I knew that Kayla escaped our neighborhood and that she was living here. I thought maybe the twins could keep me safe.”

Wraith hunkered down in front of me, his gaze assessing. “Safe from what?”

“My brother,” I said softly. “Half-brother. He’s not a nice man and he… he plans to sell me to a brothel in Mexico. I overheard him on the phone.”

“Son of a bitch,” Gears muttered. “I knew you looked familiar.”

My eyes widened as I looked up at him. He knew who I was? Who my brother was? Did that mean he would help, or would they ask me to leave? My heart started to race and my hands clenched. If they kicked me out, I had nowhere else to go.

“How do you know her?” the big, scary man asked.

“She’s Joe Banner’s sister,” Gears said. “She’s the one Officer Daniels was worried about. Tank, we can’t send her back out there.”

“Officer Daniels talked to you about me?” I asked, my brow furrowed. That didn’t make any sense. Why would he come to them?

“Who is Joe Banner?” Wraith asked.

“The local pimp. He runs things on the other end of town,” Gears said.

I wanted to curl into myself and disappear, especially when Wraith focused on me again. I’d never felt so dirty or ashamed as I did in that moment. A gorgeous man like him wouldn’t want to be near someone tainted like me. I would have tried standing again, but he was too close. I wouldn’t be able to get up without touching him.

“You work for your brother?” Wraith asked.

Tears burned my eyes but I refused to let them fall as I nodded.

“Told you she was a whore,” Tank said.

Wraith pushed my hair behind my ear and forced me to look at him. “You work for him willingly? Or does he have some sort of hold over you?”

“He was my guardian until I turned eighteen, but every time I try to run, he finds me. This was my last chance to get away. I don’t…” I swallowed hard. “I never wanted to work for him. I didn’t ask for any of those things to be done to me, but I wasn’t given a choice.”

“She’s not a whore, Tank,” Wraith said as he stood. “She’s a victim. You going to turn your back on a woman in need?”

 

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When Harley is writing, her motto is the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place.

harleywylde.com

 

★★COVER REVEAL★★ Wraith (Dixie Reapers MC) by Harley Wylde #MCromance #bikers #holidaybook #ChristmasRomance #interracial #CoverReveal @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

 

I’m not the kind of man to give a woman a fairy tale ending.
But for Rin, I’m willing to try.

 

WraithCover

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Contemporary, Christmas, MC Romance,
New Adult, Silver Fox

Rin — My mom died when I was little, and my dad followed when I was fifteen. My half-brother, the nastiest human being I’ve ever met, convinced people to grant him custody. More likely he bribed people. My life has been hell since then. Every time I try to run, he finds me, tortures me, and makes sure I toe the line. This time will be different. I’m asking the Dixie Reapers for help. If they turn me away, I’m as good as dead, but even that’s preferable to what my half-brother has planned for me next.

I didn’t count on the sexy man with the dark, brooding eyes. The man who defended me only seconds after laying eyes on me. The man who makes me want things I’ve wanted before. I knew better than to sleep with him, knew I wasn’t good enough. When he rejects me, I run. Discovering several weeks later that he left a little part of himself inside of me is even more terrifying than my half-brother finding me.

Wraith — I’m not the settling down type. Maybe once upon a time, but not anymore. While I was serving overseas, my sister was left for dead in a gutter. I failed her. Failed my parents, who made me promise to protect her before they breathed their last. Now I’m faced with Rin, the strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. She needs a protector, and I’ll gladly be that for her. I want her. Want to keep her and make her mine. I’ve fucked my share of women over the years, but I’ve never made love to one. Until her. But I’m no good for her, or anyone else. She thinks she’s not worthy of me, but it’s the other way around. Then she runs and I feel like a piece of my soul has been ripped out. Finding her won’t be easy, but I won’t stop until she’s back in my home, in my bed. And I’ll make sure that every asshole who ever laid a hand on her is buried six feet under or rotting in prison. No one will ever hurt her again.

It never occurred to me that I would be the asshole to hurt her. I stopped believing in Christmas miracles a long time ago, but now I really need one. I need Rin back, and I’ll do anything to make her mine.

Warning: Bondage. Spanking. Anal sex. Over the top, melt your e-reader, make your panties wet sex. If you don’t like those things, this book probably isn’t for you.

 

Coming November 30th to Changeling Press
and December 7th to online retailers

 

 

Tomcat Jones by Willa Okati #NewRelease #GayRomance #LGBT #paperback @changelingpress @willaokati ‏

Shapeshifting, love-shy Tomcat Jones is falling for sweet
sex-bomb wizard MacGowan. Let the fur fly!

 

Tomcat Jones

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Box Set, Contemporary, Gay
Length: 405 pages

 

Tomcat Jones: Shape-shifting tomcat T.J. Jones never believed in love — until he runs into MacGowan, a smoking-hot beach boy with an open heart and a sweet smile.

Buddy Holiday: T.J.’s a man with a plan. He intends to ask his wizard lover MacGowan to officially move in with him and make this the best Festivus ever. He keeps getting distracted by MacGowan’s hot bod. Happy Holidays?

Karma Chameleon: Arden needs Shavey’s help breaking a chameleonic shape-shifting curse. There are a few things big bad bear Shavey would like to ask for — and intends to prove to Arden — in return.

Publisher’s Note: One of Willa’s funniest. Best not eat or drink while reading!

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press

Also available in paperback

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Willa Okati
Excerpt from Tomcat Jones

“Being ‘in love’” — T.J. made quote fingers — “never changes anything.”

Arden gave the grocery cart a hard shove to get it past a sticky mess of spilled pickle juice on the aisle floor. “The hell it doesn’t. Are you stoned? That reminds me. Corn chips or Pringles?”

“Why limit ourselves? Doritos.” T.J. stretched up to tip the topmost bag on the shelf into their cart. It landed with a crunchy paft!noise between two cans of guacamole and a tub of sour cream. “Mmm. I can feel your arteries hardening as we speak.”

“Mine?” Arden, tall and skinny and towheaded, grabbed a jar of peanuts and read the nutritional information, snickering to himself. “Where are you in all of this coronary failure, standing nobly by with a skull in your hand, saying ‘alas, we hardly knew you’?”

T.J. had to stretch up on tiptoe to manage it but bounced his palm off the back of Arden’s head with a sharp snap of the wrist. “No. For one, you’re misquoting. For another, there’s no way I’m eating any of this crap.”

“Liar. You say you’ll stick to celery, but before we know it, you’ll be in the ranch dip and then the tofu chili wings will go down. It’ll be slaughter, I tell you. Wholesale slaughter of innocent soybeans. Ugh. Speaking of which, ranch dip or blue cheese? If I’m having a heart attack, I’m taking you with me, pal.”

“Yeah, yeah.” T.J. swung the cart around to face due south. “Black bean burgers. That’s what I want.”

“You are a disgrace to testicles everywhere.”

“If it’ll make you happy, I’ll eat two of them on a white bun, add three slices of cheese, and douse the whole thing in ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise.”

“Soy cheese? How many things can they make out of one innocent bean?”

“You’d be surprised. And no, not soy cheese. Processed. American. Orange-colored glue. Mmm-mmm.”

Arden considered that. “Acceptable compromise.”

“Never should have gotten you that word-a-day calendar.”

“Smart-ass.”

T.J. shrugged. “We’re all good at what we’re good at.”

“Very Zen. Which is why, in the whole of God’s green creation, I don’t get a vegetarian cat.”

T.J. stopped the cart to grab Arden by the lapel and yank. “Not in public, jackass!”

“Like anyone would make the connection between one innocent teeny statement and your being a shape-sh –”

Arden.”

His friend had the grace to look embarrassed. Not convincingly, true, but at least he made the effort. “I’ll lower my voice if you tell me how that makes sense.”

T.J. let go of him. Reluctantly. “If you’d ever woken up with feathers stuck between your teeth, you’d understand.”

“Huh.” Arden took control of the cart, mounded high with junk food, and pushed it forward. His forehead furrowed. “So you’re saying you prefer the all-processed taste of Chik’n instead?”

“God, no.” T.J. kicked the cart’s squeaky wheel, stuck on a shred of a coupon. “Anyway, what I was saying was that it’s a Hollywood myth, love changing people. If you even believe in love. A few chemicals swirl around in a guy’s brain. He might lie, but he won’t honestly become a different person.”

“And I was rebutting you. Successfully.”

“Random swearing does not a ‘successful’ comeback make.”

“Usually works for me.” Arden propped his hip on the cart. “And here all I’d said was ‘love makes people stupid.’ Interesting response to my normal state of running off at the mouth. Methinks I tapped a hot spot. Share with the rest of the class.”

T.J. scrunched his hair, the curly blond-brown mess overdue for a cut forever in his eyes, out of his face and sighed. “Do you remember the tabloid we passed a couple of aisles back? You know, the one left open-faced on top of the toilet paper display?”

Arden snorted. Eloquently. “The one that swore Prince William was an alien?”

“That too. It also had a giant red headline: ‘IS YOUR LOVE CHEATING? SIGNS POINT TO YES!’ Look at the divorce rates. Look at how many people break up right before Valentine’s Day or Christmas to avoid buying a gift. They might have thought they were in love, whatever they decide love might be, but they and the rest of us sorry folk are basically liars, cheats, and bastards who’ll do what it takes to get laid and then walk away without regret.”

Arden’s eyebrow climbed skyward. “Bitter. Nice. Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning? You actually believe that line of crap?”

“Damn right I do, and I challenge anyone to prove me wrong. Jeez, what did someone spill on this part of the floor?” T.J. tentatively toed the glutinous off-white goop glued to the linoleum beneath his feet. “Before you say it, Arden, I don’t think it’s spunk.”

“Given how much you like the cock, I’ll take your word for it. Which brings me back around to pondering the mystery that is your being a vegetarian c-a-t.”

“Arden…”

“What? I spelled it.”

“If you weren’t my closest friend, I’d be obliged to kill you. You know I have the…” T.J. lowered his voice, “shifting under control now. I haven’t slipped up in almost a year.”

“Uh-huh. So that wasn’t you purring in your sleep in the passenger seat on the way to the store.”

“What? I was not. Was I?”

“I had to fight the urge to hang a bell around your neck and waft some catnip under your nose. It was adorable.”

T.J. looked at him. Silently. At length. Then, he moved on.

“I was kidding, you big dork.” Arden caught up. “Mr. Jontan wanted pizza rolls.” He put his foot on the cart to stop it rolling. “You’re a cat. Yeah, yeah, I know, shhh. You’re neat, clever, sweet when you purr, and you’re a sucker for being skritched behind your ears. Isn’t that love?”

“Nope. Have you ever known a cat to play affectionate with anyone unless they felt like it? Or who didn’t walk away as soon as they were bored? I know what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re not harshing my mellow, friend. I’m a hound dog all the way, and I’m a believer.”

“No, you’ll do anything that looks at you sideways and has a pulse. All you do, by existing, is prove my point. And hound dog, my ass. What you really want is a good master with a firm hand and a sack of treats. Admit it.”

Arden grumbled under his breath and looked away, pretending to give too much interest in a display of pudding cups. “Mistress,” he mumbled under his breath. “And no. You’re completely wrong. As usual.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Scoring a point over Arden made for the highlight of T.J.’s day. He pushed hard and sent the cart squealing forward to the end of the junk-food aisle, aiming for a freestanding display of bite-sized powdered doughnuts. “Who’s the king?”

His cart collided with the edge of one approaching at a perpendicular angle and ricocheted into the juice boxes. An oof came from whoever had been manning the assaulted cart.

“Fuck. I am so sorry.” T.J. jogged to the end of the aisle, ready to blame it all on Arden, who’d probably let him get away with it. What else were friends for? “Are you okay?”

The man behind the cart, rubbing his stomach where the cart had hit him, looked up at T.J. through casual tumbles of hair streaked glossy sepia and ebony. His eyes were as gray as summer storms, and they twinkled. “I think I’ll live.”

“Mphurgle,” T.J. said, caught in the spell of the scent of sand and surf, coconut oil and leather, and something spicy that the man carried with him.

The man’s grin broadened. He held out a hand for T.J. to shake, his wrist bedizened with knitted, woven, and small shell bracelets. Small tattoos trailed a line from pulse point to elbow. “MacGowan Smith. Haven’t I seen you around somewhere?”

“T.J. Jones.” We haven’t met. Trust me, I’d remember you.

MacGowan’s palm and fingers were slim and nimble, hands designed by nature for precision work. Was he a surgeon, a pianist, a painter? There was no way for T.J. not to imagine that agile touch skimming down his chest, his legs, over his hips, kneading his ass… and that was as far as that thought needed to go, or he really would get a boner next to the Freeze-Em Popsicles. That kind of thing was hard to explain away to random strangers, smoking hot or not, especially red-hot-chili “hot.”

Lucky for him, MacGowan hadn’t yet looked below T.J.’s neck. He snapped his fingers. “The DuBrewer complex. You live there too, right? I saw you and that guy behind you, upstairs from me, when I got my keys.”

T.J. replayed that in his head to make sure he’d heard MacGowan right. “You’re moving into L-one?” The empty apartment beneath his, ground-floor level, with a front door that opened on the foot of his apartment’s staircase. No way. No one got that lucky. Especially not a mostly vegetarian tomcat-slash-man, or the other way around.

“Me and no one else,” MacGowan agreed sunnily. He had a sweet West Coast accent, Napa Valley maybe. It added both drawl and lilt to his way of speaking. He eyed T.J. His good cheer softened and warmed around the edges. “I’m glad I was right. I’d hope there’s no way I could forget a man like you.”

“A guy like what, huh now?”

“I should be all moved in by tonight,” MacGowan said. He wheeled his cart around. Chicken. Steak. Pork chops. Sausage. A six-pack of Pacific beer. One lonely zucchini in the middle. “Come by and visit, if you want.” He lingered over one last look before he turned to walk away, tipping T.J. a backward wave, shell bracelets clicking quietly. “Anytime you want.”

“Put your eyes back in your head and close your mouth before you start catching flies,” Arden muttered as he joined T.J. “You look like a constipated parrot.”

“Whatever.” T.J. stared after MacGowan. “Arden, what just happened here?”

“I’d say you got owned.” Arden studied MacGowan’s backside. “Huh. Not that I can blame you for drooling. I’d do him.”

“You’re not even gay.”

“My point exactly. So he lives downstairs? How very convenient. Naughty neighbors, I like it.” Arden patted T.J. on the back. “This could be interesting. For me, especially. You know I get off on watching, baby.”

T.J. shoved Arden halfheartedly. “Put a cork in it.” He closed his eyes to better breathe in and appreciate the last traces of MacGowan’s scent.

And purred.

He slapped a hand over his mouth while Arden, ever helpful, chortled. He slapped T.J.’s back. “Told you that you were purring on the drive in. Well, now. Life’s about to get a hell of a lot more interesting around here. Love at first sight is just swishy chemicals, isn’t that what you were saying?”

T.J. glared at him. He had a great insult on the tip of his tongue, but blast his luck, all he came out with was: “Purr.”

Interesting? Yeah. That’d be one way to put it.

 

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Willa Okati is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, and a lifelong love of storytelling. She is definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for.

You can reach Willa at willaokati@gmail.com.

Join Willa on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/willa.okati

Dixie Reapers MC, Vol. 2 is now in Paperback! #paperback #MCromance #bikerromance #NewRelease @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

Sometimes temptation is just too great.
I’m going to claim her. Damn the consequences.

 

Rocky/Bull Duet (Dixie Reapers MC Print 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: MC Romance, Contemporary, New Adult, Silver Fox
Paperback Price: $12.95

 

Rocky (Dixie Reapers MC 3)

Mara: My stepbrother Sebastian wants what he can’t have — me. When I crashed down a mountain the man who pulled me from the wreckage rescued me in every way that counts. Rocky is the biggest, sexiest badass I’ve ever seen. The stubborn man says I’m too young. I’ll just have to prove him wrong.

Rocky: I never expected that past to show up in the form of a sexy-as-fuck woman — a woman I shouldn’t touch. I’ll do anything it takes to keep her safe, even go home to Alabama. My brothers, the Dixie Reapers, will help protect her. I’m just not sure who’s going to protect her from me, because I’m never going to let her go.

Bull (Dixie Reapers MC 4)

Darian: I can tell he wants me, even though he’s fighting himself. But he doesn’t have to… because I’m his. I’ve held onto my virginity all these years, but I want him more than I ever thought I’d want someone. For once, I’m going to get what I want. And I want Bull.

Bull: There’s more than twenty years between us. I wanted to be a better man, to walk away, but I can’t. She begs me so sweetly, and soon I can’t resist anymore. She’s mine. And any fucker who tries to take her from me is going to die a slow and painful death.

 

Get the paperback at Amazon!

 

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Rocky (Dixie Reapers MC 3)
Harley Wylde
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Harley Wylde

Mara

My hands clenched the wheel tighter as my small car careened around another curve on the icy mountain road. How the weather could be this bad in early fall, I didn’t know. My heart raced in my chest, and my gaze shot to the rearview mirror. Still alone. If they were following me, I didn’t see them. Even Sebastian’s men wouldn’t be dumb enough to drive these roads as fast as I was taking them, would they? They were New Yorkers, though, and would be used to bad driving conditions. I, however, was a California girl and hadn’t had much experience driving on icy and snow-covered roads.

Something darted across the road, and I reflexively hit the brakes. My car fishtailed, then started to slide. A scream tore from my throat as the small compact crashed through the railing and down the side of the mountain. The crunch of metal made my heart beat faster, and I wondered if I was about to die. Glass exploded into the car as it bounced against the mountainside. My head slammed into the steering wheel more than once, and black dots swam across my vision.

The car landed upside down at the bottom of the craggy cliff. My harsh breathing filled the air as I tried to focus. I was dazed and hung limply from the seat belt, my hands brushing the roof of the car. Blood trickled into my hair and more ran down my arm. I groaned, feeling battered and bruised, but thankful to be alive. I didn’t know how long I hung there… minutes… hours… but the crunch of snow alerted me to another presence. I hoped like hell it wasn’t Sebastian or his men. I’d rather die than see them.

A gruff voice cursed, one I didn’t recognize.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice weaker than usual. “Help. Please, help me.”

For a moment, I wondered if I should have kept quiet. Just because I didn’t recognize the man outside my car, didn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt me. I didn’t know everyone in Sebastian’s employ, and there were monsters out in the world other than the man who wanted to claim me. As if I’d ever let him touch me!

Denim-clad legs came into view with massive feet encased in brown boots. The man dropped to one knee, his gloved hand braced in the snow as he peered into what was left of my car. Blue eyes met mine, and my breath stilled. Fine lines fanned from the corners, and his nose looked like it had been broken at some point. But that was all I could see of the man. His face was covered in a beard, and the parts of his hair not covered by a hat spilled around his face, looking as if it hadn’t seen a brush today.

“Don’t move,” he said.

Something about that voice, dark and commanding, sent a chill down my spine. Not in a bad way, though. Something about that voice made me want to obey. The man rose to his feet, and his hands closed around the door of my car, or what was left of it. The metal groaned as he ripped the door off and flung it away. My mouth dropped at the brute strength on display. How strong exactly did you have to be to rip off a car door? I’d never seen anything like it.

His hands, now bare, reached for me. The seat belt wouldn’t release, and he reached into his pocket, withdrawing a knife. He easily sliced through the belt. I fell to the top of the car, and hands far gentler than I’d have expected, pulled me from the wreckage. As the man stood, lifting me as if I were no more than a child, I realized that the hunk of man who had helped me was way taller than my first impression. And much, much broader.

“My bag,” I said softly.

He grunted and eased me down. I wobbled a moment, my hand braced on his wide chest. When I got my footing, he released me long enough to pull my bag from the front seat. It didn’t have much in it, but wherever I was going, I would need the things inside. The man slung the bag over his shoulder before lifting me once more, then we were off, striding through the knee-deep snow. Or rather, he was walking through knee-deep snow.

“I’m Mara,” I said. “Mara O’Malley.”

His gaze flicked down to mine. “Rocky.”

I waited, but no last name was forthcoming, and I wasn’t going to press him for it. He didn’t have to pull me from that car. He could have left me for the wildlife to find, or to freeze to death and not be found until spring when everything thawed out.

Snow began to fall in thick gusts, and soon I couldn’t see in front of my face. The man holding me trudged forward, through the ever-thickening snow, not stopping, not even slowing down. I didn’t know how long we walked, but soon I saw a structure come into view. No. A cabin. There was a wide porch across the front and a large stack of wood near the door. Another pile of wood peeked around the corner of the house with a tarp over the top.

Rocky clomped up the steps and pushed open the front door. The crackle of a fire welcomed us, and I moaned as the warmth from inside the house licked at my skin. I was frozen everywhere. He eased me down onto the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace and pulled a blanket from the couch, wrapping it around my shoulders.

My teeth chattered with such force I thought they might break, and I trembled from head to toe. I watched the mesmerizing flames as Rocky stepped away. I heard him trudging upstairs, only to return a few minutes later with two thick pairs of wool socks, some sweatpants, and a flannel shirt clutched in his massive hands. He crouched in front of me and slowly removed my shoes and socks.

I let out a squeak when he reached for the top of my jeggings and began sliding them down my legs. Too stunned to do much but stare, I didn’t protest as he pulled the blanket from my shoulders and removed my coat and sweater. Even though his gaze didn’t stray anywhere for too long, I felt exposed. No one had ever seen me in my underwear before, and I knew I should say something. Then again, he probably didn’t like women with as much meat on their bones as I had. My thighs were thick and jiggled when I walked, my ass should probably have been assigned its own zip code. And while my breasts were large and sometimes drew male attention, they weren’t big enough to make my rounded stomach look any smaller.

His gaze roamed my body before he rose to his feet and disappeared again, leaving me mostly naked in front of the fire. When he returned, there was a wet rag clutched in one hand and a tube of ointment in the other. Rocky crouched in front of me again, gently wiping the blood from my body. I winced as he applied the ointment to my cuts. There was one on my forehead and another near my collarbone, and my arm was dotted with smaller cuts from the broken glass. He sat back on his heels and studied me again, his gaze caressing every inch of my body. Did he like what he saw?

 

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