Slider (Hades Abyss MC) by Harley Wylde #MCromance #bikerbooks #NewAdult @HarleyW_Writer

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Vasha: Being groomed for the man who purchased me is the only life I’ve known. But I want more. I want freedom! My husband-to-be is a cruel, vicious man. I dread the day he claims me. When my bodyguard and friend, Anatoly, arranges my passage to America — as a mail order bride — I hope it means things will be better. I never counted on my husband being so handsome, or so tender. Nor did I know that passion between a man and a woman could be so consuming! He leaves my knees weak and makes my heart race. There’s just one problem… He doesn’t know we’re married! I don’t know how it happened, or how to fix things, but it’s clear Slider is angry. Leaving is the only thing I know to do, but it is also the hardest decision I have ever made.

Slider: I’m not even thirty yet, but I’m already tired of the bullshit that comes with easy women. Maybe seeing my Pres settle down gave me a new perspective. Having the same woman in my bed every night is starting to sound more and more appealing. Or guy. I’m not picky. Love is love. What I didn’t count on was my ex-lover deciding to “help” me with my problem. When he left a naked woman in my bed, I was pissed… until I realized she was in trouble. She needs me, and maybe I need her, too. I always did have a hero complex, but it only takes a few minutes of knowing her before I want to slay her dragons, keep her safe, and show her that not all men are evil.

I didn’t count on her being my wife. F**cking Surge! Always putting his nose where he shouldn’t. When she runs, I realize I seriously screwed up and I have to get her back.

 

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Harley Wylde

Speak of the devil. I smelled Surge’s cologne before I saw him.

“We good?” he asked.

“Yep. Just tired of the scene inside.”

He shoved a mug of beer toward me. “Here. Drink. Might take the edge off.”

I took it and gulped down half. It was more bitter than what I usually had, but beer was beer. At least, tonight it was. Maybe if I got drunk, I wouldn’t care that I’d be spending the night alone.

He rubbed the back of his neck and cast a look around before reaching for my hand. He twined his fingers with mine. “I know you want more than what I can give you, and you should have it. I’m sorry I’m not ready to settle down, and I hope things don’t get weird between us. I like you, a lot, but I still want to have fun and meet new people. Maybe learn some new things.”

I could understand that. He was younger than me. While I’d been partying hard since high school, Surge was only recently experimenting and opening up more. He’d been a bit reserved when he’d first asked to prospect. I gave his hand a squeeze before letting go.

“It’s fine. I get it. You were clear up front that we were just having fun. Guess I’m just… envious. I see what Spider and Rocket have, and I think I might want that too.”

He looked torn. Before I could react, he pressed his lips against mine in a fast, hard kiss, then took a step back. The way his hand shook belied his agitation, but I hadn’t kicked him out of bed. This was his doing. I didn’t understand what he was thinking or feeling. Had he just been scared of getting too close to someone?

“This might be overstepping, but there’s a gift at your place. All right, so I seriously overstepped, but I think it’s what you need. Before you even said anything, I could tell that you were starting to get that itch. I knew that our time was up or you’d start wanting more from me. You’ve had that look in your eyes almost since the beginning. I’ve been working on this surprise for over a week.”

A week. For a week he’d planning to end things and hadn’t given me a fucking hint? All he’d had to do was say he was bored and we’d have gone our separate ways. No big deal. If he’d just talked to me, been honest about what he was thinking and feeling, then maybe I wouldn’t be so disappointed right now. I’d expected more from him. Not more as in a relationship that was long-lasting, but I’d thought he was man enough to be up front about shit.

“What the fuck does that mean?” I asked.

“You want someone steady in your life, and that’s fine. It’s just not something I want right now,” he said. “Maybe someday. I don’t know. But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have it. All I want is for you to be happy, Slider. Now go check out your gift.”

I ran a hand down my face, wondering if there was a way to rewind and undo this conversation. It was weird as shit and getting worse by the moment.

“What the fuck kind of gift is supposed to resolve my relationship status? You better not have hired a fucking stripper.” Nothing against those women, or men, but they just didn’t do anything for me. I didn’t like fake. If someone was with me, I wanted it to be genuine, which was probably why I was so fucking tired of the scene in the clubhouse every night.

He smirked. “Why don’t you go home and find out?”

Jesus. I thrust the half empty mug at him, and stepped off the porch. My bike was buried three deep so I decided to walk my ass home. Mostly I didn’t want to stand around waiting for everyone to move their rides when I didn’t know what the fuck was waiting for me at the house. If Surge had wanted to call it quits between us, all he had to do was say so. I’d known he wasn’t in it for the long haul, but this was fucking ridiculous. What the hell kind of gift had he left me?

Swear to Christ if he’d left a woman in my house, some stranger, I might very well kill him. There were times I had to question his reasoning. There was shit in my house I didn’t need someone digging through, and I knew enough about women to know they were fucking curious. If I walked through my door and got shot, with one of my own guns no less, I was going to be fucking pissed. Worse, if whoever he’d left inside had stolen anything, I was going to pound Surge’s ass into the damn ground.

I stomped up my front steps and threw open the door, not caring if I scared the shit out of whoever was inside. The lights were on, but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. I went room by room, then closed my eyes and took a calming breath before opening the last door — the one to my bedroom. Curled in the center of my bed, bare as the day she’d been born, was a small female. I blinked a few times, thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me. Then again, the room did spin a little. Just how strong had that beer been?

Glancing around, I spotted a pile of clothes that looked like they would fall apart at any moment. They weren’t the type of worn material that people paid high dollar for, but more the kind you owned when things were really fucking bad. I focused on the woman. I’d seen plenty of beautiful women before, but this one seemed almost otherworldly. She was dainty, and delicate. Her blonde hair was so pale it was nearly white and lay in a wavy tumble across my pillow. Slowly, I entered the room and shut the door behind me.

Any anger I’d felt melted away. It seemed he hadn’t left a stripper in my house. I wasn’t quite certain what he’d done just yet. But the strippers I’d seen around town wouldn’t have been caught in dead in the clothes piled near the bed. I hoped to Christ he hadn’t paid some homeless woman to sleep with me. How was this woman a gift?

I moved closer and reached out to shift a strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek. It was soft, softer than anything I’d felt before. Kneeling next to the bed, I studied her a moment. The sharp blade of her nose, her prominent cheekbones, the way her lashes lay dark against her pale cheeks. It was a little like discovering the fae were real and one had fallen asleep in my bed. I smiled a little, thinking of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, except there was only one grumpy bear in this house, and I was quite content to leave her sleeping in my bed.

What. The Fuck.

 

More from Harley at Changeling Press …

Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.
When Harleys 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. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.
The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing.
You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you’re there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!

You can also find Harley on BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/harley-wylde

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Wire (Dixie Reapers MC) by Harley Wylde #MCromance #bikerbooks #Bikers #NewAdult #RomanceBooks #NewRelease @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Lavender: My parents weren’t the type to win any awards, but I did learn a few things. Like how to read lines of code and get through the backdoor of pretty much any site or program. I also learned about the man my mother had dated when she’d met my dad, someone who has intrigued me for years. I never thought I’d get the chance to meet him, until my parents end up dead and I can’t think of anyone else who might be able to help. I know too much, know my parents’ deaths weren’t an accident, and now I’ve been targeted. If the infamous Voodoo Tracer can’t help me, then I’m screwed.

Reality is so much better than fantasy, and with one look, I know the reason I haven’t dated is because I was waiting. For him.

Wire: I never really expected my past to come knocking at the front gates, nor did I expect it to be in such a sexy package. Lavender isn’t what I’d call a siren, but with her glasses perched on her nose, her messy hair, curvy figure, and adorable tees, she’s exactly what I want and don’t need. A nerdy, geeky, superintelligent woman who craves me as much as I crave her. So I did what any man would do… I claimed her. Now she’s mine, and if an enemy from my past thinks he can hurt her, I’d like to see him try. He might have killed her parents, but I will destroy anyone who tries to take her from me.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or Pre-Order for October 11th at retailers

   

 

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Harley Wylde

Lavender

The infamous hacker, or more accurately cracker, Voodoo Tracer, hadn’t been all that hard to find. My mother had always said if anything happened to her I should track down the guy she’d dated before marrying my dad. I’d heard the story a million times, about how they’d all been friends but she’d fallen for Dad and hurt the guy she’d been dating. He’d left and never returned. Mom had lost track of him, but it hadn’t take much digging for me to find his current location, which told me he wasn’t really hiding. A guy like him didn’t leave a door open unless he wanted someone to use it.

While my mom and dad were hackers and worked for a lot of companies, trying to find the weak spots in their security so the companies could improve them, men like Voodoo Tracer took advantage of those weak spots to get whatever information they wanted. Mom had never approved of Voodoo’s need to crack government and banking sites. From what she’d said, back then, he never took anything vital. He’d mostly done it because he could. I couldn’t say for certain what he’d been up to lately.

I didn’t really walk either path, but tended to dabble a bit in both. Like the infamous Voodoo, I mostly liked to see how far I could get somewhere I shouldn’t be. If I were as nice as my mom and dad, I’d then turn that information over to the companies so they could keep other people out. Then again, they weren’t exactly paying me for my help, so why give it? I wasn’t an angel by any means, but I wasn’t precisely a devil either. I operated in those murky shades of gray.

I’d known how easy it would be for some to trace my phone, or the built-in GPS on my car, so I’d left both behind. The bus hadn’t been the most comfortable option to ride to Alabama, and I’d paid cash so there wouldn’t be a credit card trail, but now that I was here, I had to wonder if I’d made a huge mistake. The walk to the Dixie Reapers compound wasn’t that far, but the place seemed a bit imposing as I approached the gates. I’d walked what felt like miles of fenceline, although that was surely not the case. Razor wire topped it, and I had to wonder just what they were trying to keep out. Or was it more what they wanted to keep in?

The guy standing guard didn’t seem much older than me, and I noticed the way he scanned me from head to toe. I probably wasn’t the type of woman who typically came to this sort of place. My Converse were well-worn, my jeans ripped along my thighs and knees, and I had on my favorite Dark Crystal T-shirt, which had faded over time. I hadn’t thought much about my appearance and had tossed my hair up in a messy bun. With my thick-lensed glasses perched on my nose, I probably looked like I should be in school right now. If it weren’t for my curves, I’d never pass for my real age.

“You must be lost,” the man said, then pointed back behind me. “Town is back that way.”

“I’m not lost.” I hitched my bag higher on my shoulder. “I’m here to see Voodoo Tracer.”

The man stared and rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “No one here by that name. So I think you really are lost.”

My brow furrowed. I’d assumed his club would know him by that name. From what little research I’d managed before taking this trip, I’d learned that some clubs preferred to use a road name and kept their real names private. If Voodoo followed that belief, this guy may not know his birth name. It was foolish to think whatever the club called him would be the same name he went by when he was cracking codes.

“Hang on. I have a picture, but it’s really old.” I slid the strap off my shoulder and dug in my backpack. I withdrew the picture of Voodoo with my mom, Seraph, and my dad, Doc Paradox. I’d stared at this picture a lot over the years. I’d found it shoved into a box in the top of Mom’s closet a while back. The ginger-haired young man had drawn my attention. He couldn’t have been older than sixteen or seventeen at the time it was taken, but even back then he’d been more than just cute. I knew he’d be my parents’ age now, but I’d often wished I could meet a guy like him.

Showing the picture to the guy, his eyes went wide.

“Holy shit, is that Wire?” he asked.

“Um. Maybe. I don’t know his club name. I only know his hacker name.”

The man nodded. “That would be Wire, then. I’ll have to call him down here. I’m not letting you in uninvited. You don’t exactly look like the type to party at the clubhouse.”

If that was code for sleep with random men, then no, I wasn’t. Not even a little. I took a step back as he made his call and took the time to check out the place behind the fence. There was a building with Dixie Reapers across the top in neon letters, and a lot of houses down either side of the road. As I strained to get a better look, I thought I saw a playground, but that was ridiculous. What type of biker compound had a playground? The fatigue must be getting to me. It seemed I was now hallucinating.

“He asked who else is in the picture,” the guy said.

“Tell him Seraph and Doc Paradox.” I swallowed hard. “They were my parents.”

He relayed the information, and I hoped that Wire would come and hear me out. If things had really ended as badly as my mom had said, then he might refuse to see me. She’d not gone into a lot of detail, just said she’d picked my dad over Voodoo. Knowing my mother, there was a good chance she’d omitted part of the story. Coming here was a gamble I’d been willing to take. Whatever Mom and Dad had been into, it had gotten them killed. Thanks to me nosing around, I now worried that I might meet the same fate. I didn’t know anything about the man Wire was now, but the kid who had grown up with my parents had been the type to help those in need, even if he hadn’t done it the legal way. I was counting on that still being true.

The rumble of a motorcycle started out faint and then got louder. I saw a rider with copper-colored hair approaching from down the road and as he came to a stop on the other side of the gate, my heart flipped, flopped, then took off at a gallop. Holy hell! Mom had thrown over this guy for my dad? What the hell had she been thinking? He didn’t even remotely look like a hacker. Nor was he the gangly teen from the photo I’d brought. Yeah, he’d been handsome back then, but now? Shit. I was almost certain my panties were getting wet just looking at him. His heather gray tee stretched tight across his broad chest, and the leather cut just added to the sex appeal. The denim hugging his thighs was as worn as mine, with a few well-placed holes, and did nothing to hide how muscular he was, especially for a geeky computer nerd.

Definitely nothing like my dad. I’d loved my father, but time hadn’t been kind to him. He’d had lines around his eyes, and what my mother fondly called his spare tired around the middle, from long days and nights at the computer. This guy didn’t have that problem. Hell, he didn’t even look my parents’ age.

Wire swung a leg over his bike and came closer, removing the sunglasses that had shielded his eyes from me. Green, and so damn pretty. It was a sin for a man to have eyelashes that long and thick. Dammit. My nipples were getting stiff. I swallowed hard, wondering why my body was betraying me. I’d never had a physical response to a guy, even when I thought they were hot. Until now. The beard covering his jaw made my fingers itch to reach out and touch it. Would it be coarse or soft? I’d always had a weak spot for gingers, and he had to be the sexiest one I’d ever seen.

 

Find more from Harley at Changeling Press …

Short. Erotic. Sweet. Harley’s other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. 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.

Harley’s Website: https://harleywylde.com/

 

COVER REVEAL: Wire (Dixie Reapers MC) by Harley Wylde #MCromance #coverreveal #Bikers #NewAdult #RomanceBooks #preorder @Harley@_Writer

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When my past came knocking, I wasn’t expecting it to arrive in such a tempting package.

 

Lavender – My parents weren’t the type to win any awards, but I did learn a few things. Like how to read lines of code and get through the backdoor of pretty much any site or program. I also learned about the man my mother had dated when she’d met my dad, someone who has intrigued me for years. I never thought I’d get the chance to meet him, until my parents end up dead and I can’t think of anyone else who might be able to help. I know too much, know my parents’ death wasn’t an accident, and now I’ve been targeted. If the infamous Voodoo Tracer can’t help me, then I’m screwed.

Reality is so much better than fantasy, and with one look, I know the reason I haven’t dated is because I was waiting. For him.

Wire – I never really expected my past to come knocking at the front gates, nor did I expect it to be in such a sexy package. Lavender isn’t what I’d call a siren, but with her glasses perched on her nose, her messy hair, curvy figure, and adorable tees, she’s exactly what I want and don’t need. A nerdy, geeky, super intelligent woman who craves me as much as I crave her. So I did what any man would do… I claimed her. Now she’s mine, and if an enemy from my past thinks he can hurt her, I’d like to see him try. He might have killed her parents, but I will destroy anyone who tries to take her from me.

 

ADD TO GOODREADS

 

Pre-Order for October 11th at:

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Scratch/Havoc (Duet) by Harley Wylde #MCromance #NewAdult #SingleMom #paperback @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

Scratch/Havoc (Duet) (Dixie Reapers MC Box Sets 6)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Scratch (Devil’s Boneyard MC 2)
Clarity: I’ve been on my own since I was sixteen, and I’ve fought to make a life for myself and my son. Being homeless certainly wasn’t in my life plan, so when a gruff, sexy biker offers help, how can I possibly say no? I know deep down he’d never hurt us. It just never occurred to me I’d fall in love.

Scratch: The young woman and kid I find sleeping outside my club’s chop shop make me feel things I shouldn’t. She’s younger than my daughter, but there’s fire in her soul, and she leaves me wanting things I shouldn’t. Like a new chance at a family. What the hell would she want with a man thirty years older than her? I’ll slay her demons, bury the monsters from her past, and then I’ll do the one thing I thought I’d never do… claim an old lady, then make her my wife.

Havoc (Devil’s Boneyard MC 3)
Jordan: I spent a year in prison for a crime I admittedly did commit, but I had a good reason. 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. Havoc isn’t at all what I’m used to, but maybe he’s just what I need.

Havoc: 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 — fury flows through me. Whatever it takes, I’ll keep her safe. Whoever hurt her will be coming, and I’m ready. No one touches what’s mine, and Jordan may not realize it but I’m not letting her go.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order the ebook for September 20th at retailers:

   

Also available in paperback!

 

Praise for Scratch (Devil’s Boneyard MC 2)

“I’m glad that Scratch found someone. He seemed so lonely… Clarity’s life was so messed up. Thank goodness for the Devil’s Boneyard MC and Scratch. They set everything to rights and then some. These two were so meant for one another.”

— 5 Stars from Jan’s Reviews, Goodreads Review

“Harley has done it again! This was one of my favorites of hers and if I could have given it 10 stars I would have! Hot, steamy and just the perfect amount of dirty with a younger woman, older man whirlwind MC romance! I can’t wait for what’s next!”

– 5 Stars from Mama Little, iBooks Review

 

Praise for Havoc (Dixie Reapers MC 3)

“Mrs. Wylde has really outdone herself this time! This book is simply amazing! I love tough as nails Jordan, she was perfect for Havoc. This book had everything: mystery, chemistry and action. And not to mention sexy times! I hope you continue to write all about of the other men in the club, especially Cinder. I am eager to get his story! Grab this book now, you won’t be disappointed at all. And if you haven’t checked out the Dixie Reapers you definitely need too!”

— 5 Stars from AmandaGail, Amazon Review

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Harley Wylde
Excerpt from Scratch

I had no one. My mom had died when I was two, and when my dad remarried, he’d chosen a woman who liked to pretend I didn’t exist. Soon enough, my dad decided I didn’t exist either. Once his new kids starting popping out every few years, I was pushed to the side, and eventually I left. I’d been sixteen when I’d hit the streets, and no one had come looking for me. I was sure that my dad was relieved I was gone. It hurt, but crying over it wouldn’t change anything.

I’d thought I was doing okay when I found a man about five years older than me who offered me a place to sleep and help getting a job. I should have known not to trust him. Things had been fine for a while, but then he’d started asking to be repaid for his kindness. Blowjobs mostly, except for the night he was high on who knows what and decided to take more than I was willing to give. Caleb was the result of that night. Once I’d found out I was pregnant, I’d taken off. Even though the man hadn’t touched me again, I hadn’t wanted to take any chances.

A women’s shelter had helped at first, even found me a job and a place to live. Things had been going pretty well, until two months ago. The little thrift store where I’d been working shut down without notice. I’d had enough in the bank to keep our tiny apartment for another month, and then the money had run out and I hadn’t been able to get another job. So we slept where we could, ate what we could, and just tried to survive.

The church over on Pine Avenue would let me take a shower and would give me a dress out of the donations to wear for interviews, and the nice lady who worked in the church office would watch Caleb for me. I’d applied to every place in town that was hiring, and no one had wanted me. Our situation was bleak, but as long as we had each other, then I’d keep fighting. If Caleb weren’t with me, I might have given up by now. Or decided to join the ladies who worked the street corner on the other end of town. But I’d been a virgin when Caleb’s dad had raped me, and I couldn’t bring myself to take that step. Not yet. I didn’t think badly of the women who made their living that way, but I didn’t think I could do it.

An auto repair shop was just a few more steps away, with a large enough doorway that Caleb and I could hide in the shadows and get some sleep. I checked the hours on the window and saw it wouldn’t be open for at least five more hours, which meant I could rest a little. I’d learned to sleep lightly, so that I’d wake up at the first sign of trouble, or whenever Caleb stirred. I was always scared I’d sleep so hard that he’d wander off and I’d never see him again. Hunkering down into the corner of the doorway, I settled Caleb on my lap and used my backpack as a pillow. My son snuggled against me and closed his eyes.

I didn’t think I’d been asleep for more than an hour when I heard a loud rumble. My eyes opened as a single headlight focused on us, making it hard for me to see. I held a hand up to my face, and shielded Caleb with the other. The light stayed on, but I could barely make out a shadowy figure dismounting from what I’d figured out was a motorcycle. The man approached and loomed over us.

“This is private property,” he said, his voice deep and raspy.

“I’m sorry. We’ll go,” I said, struggling to stand.

I could feel his gaze raking over me. I managed to get to my feet without stumbling, got my backpack straps over my shoulders, then hefted Caleb into my arms.

“Where are you going to go?” he asked.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m sorry we trespassed,” I said. I hitched my backpack a little higher over my shoulder and clutched Caleb to me. I tried to step around the large man, but he reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder.

I froze under that touch, tensing and waiting to see what would happen. Is this where he offered me a place to sleep in exchange for the use of my body? Wouldn’t be the first time I’d had that offer made to me, and I doubted it would be the last. I would do anything for my baby to have a place to rest and food to eat, or nearly anything. We’d struggled and things were bad, but I didn’t think I could handle having strange men touch me. Not after Caleb’s dad, or more like sperm donor. I didn’t think he would come after Caleb, even if he knew my baby existed, but I’d decided not to take any chances. Thankfully, I hadn’t seen him since we’d left. For all I knew, he wasn’t even in town anymore.

“Christ, you don’t even look old enough to have a kid,” he muttered.

My chin raised a notch. “I’m nineteen. Well, almost nineteen. Not that it’s any business of yours.”

I saw a flash of white teeth as he smiled in the darkness. “All grown up then, aren’t you? Eighteen, nearly nineteen, and think you know everything I bet. Why are you sleeping in the doorway of my business?”

I glanced behind me before facing him again. “I told you we didn’t mean to trespass.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“We didn’t have anywhere else to go,” I admitted softly, my arms tightening around my son.

“There’s a lot of expensive equipment in there. Going to steal anything?” he asked.

I felt fire ignite inside me and I clenched my teeth a moment. I might be broke, but I wasn’t a thief!

“No!”

“Come on.” He walked up to the doorway I’d just vacated, then he unlocked the front door and pushed it open.

I hesitated. I didn’t know if I could trust him, and figured my chances were better out here in the open than inside, but what if he was going to offer food for Caleb? Or maybe there was a couch in the waiting room and he’d let my baby rest there for an hour or two. It was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up, but at the first sign he was going to be a perv, I was out of there.

I stepped inside as he flipped on the lights, and I blinked at how bright they were. There was a beat-up leather couch with duct tape holding it together, and a scarred table with a few magazines on top. But the man didn’t stop in the front room. He kept going, so I followed at a slight distance. If I needed to run, I wanted a head start.

He entered a small, cluttered office and turned on a lamp. It glowed softly, the light dim, but there was a huge couch on one wall that looked a little too inviting with its overstuffed arms. It was leather, but unlike the one out front, it didn’t have so much as a scratch on it that I could see. The man pulled a blanket off the back and motioned toward the couch.

“You can rest here a while. I can either lock you in and reset the alarm, or I can stay until you’ve had a chance to rest. I’ll leave it up to you. But know that if you steal so much as one thing, I will track you down,” the man said.

I focused on him and noticed he wore one of those black leather vests I’d seen the local bikers wearing. Scratch — VP was stitched on the front. He was an older man, a bit of gray at his temples and in his beard. I was horrible at guessing ages, but if I had to, I’d place him in his late forties or early fifties. He had the kind of eyes that looked like they had seen far too much, like he’d fought wars I could only imagine but was still standing. He was strong, his muscles stretching the sleeves of the T-shirt he wore, and his jeans encased muscular thighs. He could easily overpower me, and yet he hadn’t come close to me since grabbing my shoulder earlier.

“You can lock us in,” I said. “We won’t take anything.”

He nodded and looked at Caleb, who was yawning on my shoulder.

“When’s the last time the two of you ate?” he asked. “And I mean real food, not something you’ve scrounged from somewhere.”

More from Harley at Changeling Press …

International Best Selling Author!

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99 cent sale! CAN’T GET ENOUGH (a rock star romance) by Harley Wylde @HarleyW_Writer #99cents #onsale #NewAdult #RomanceBooks

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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.

 

Still not sure it’s the right book for you? Keep reading for a sneak peek…

 

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Harley Wylde

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.

 

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Harley is the international bestselling author of the Dixie Reapers and Devil’s Boneyard series.

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.

 

 

 

 

Jackal/Wraith (Duet) by Harley Wylde #paperback #MCromance #bikerbooks #NewAdult #SilverFox #MayDecember @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

Jackal/Wraith Duet (Dixie Reapers MC Box Sets 5)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Jackal (Devil’s Boneyard MC 1)

Josie: I spent an amazing three days with Jackal before he disappeared, back to his club, the Devil’s Boneyard. He made it clear what we had was a temporary thing, and I was fine with that. Then I faced the scariest thing ever. Telling my big brother, Tank, a Dixie Reaper, I was pregnant and alone at the age of nineteen.

Jackal: I’ve thought about Josie since I walked away. I never counted on the little girl glued to her hip. Now I want something I’ve never wanted before. My family. Because Josie and our daughter, Allegra, are exactly what’s been missing in my life. Figures the one I want more than anything might be the first to send me packing. But I’m not letting anyone take them away.

Wraith (Dixie Reapers MC 8)

Rin: My mom died when I was little, my dad when I was fifteen. My half-brother convinced the state to grant him custody, and my life has been hell ever since. Every time I try to run, he finds me, but this time will be different. I’m asking the Dixie Reapers for help. I didn’t count on the sexy man with the dark, brooding eyes who makes me want things I’ve never wanted before.

Wraith: I’m not the settling-down type. Maybe once upon a time, but not anymore. Now I’m faced with the strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. 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. I need Rin back, and I’ll do anything to make her mine.

 

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Praise for Jackal (Devil’s Boneyard MC 1)

“…the sex is hotter than a firecracker. If MCs are your thing, you’ll like these stories.”

— 4 Stars from Alberta, Manic Reader Reviews

“Once again Harley has written an amazing story. I loved how everything turned out and it was nice to see Josie in a different light rather than the bratty girl I read about it Bull’s story. Jackal kind of had me ready to deck him in the beginning but by the end I loved him as well.”

—  5 Stars from Deshonda, Goodreads Review

Praise for Wraith (Dixie Reapers MC 8)

“Wraith was amazing. Rin is my absolute favorite. Reading about her story made me want to break down, but I loved how strong she was and though she was abused in countless ways it didn’t stop her from giving Wraith a chance. I definitely feel as if this was a 5 star read.”

— 5 Stars from Deshonda (iTunes Customer Review)

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Harley Wylde
Excerpt from Jackal

Josie

“I’m sorry, Tank. I tried to stop her,” the Prospect from outside said as he loomed behind me and reached for my arm.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” I said, snapping my teeth at him.

The Prospect jumped back, jerking his hand away from me. Asshole. What the fuck was wrong with guys? Like it was okay to just manhandle a woman. Bad enough they’d eye you like a piece of candy and you just knew they were undressing you with their eyes, but touching was a no-no unless I said it was okay.

Tank groaned and met me in the middle of the room. “What the fuck are you doing here, Josephine?”

“It’s Josie,” I said. I’d only told him that about a million and one times, and he still didn’t get it. Josephine was the name of some prissy princess type, and that so wasn’t me. I was high-heeled boots, black leather, and a good dose of sass all the way. “I hate that fucking name and you damn well know it.”

“Fine. What the fuck are you doing here, Josie?” Tank asked.

“Mom has gone too damn far this time. Either you do something, or I won’t be held responsible for my actions.” And she had gone really fucking far. I was beyond livid, but I didn’t know where to turn except to my big brother. Well, half-brother, but he was still the only family I had outside of Mom. That I knew of. Dad was such a horndog, it wouldn’t surprise me if we didn’t have siblings in every damn state. Maybe even a few other countries.

“You know your whore mother doesn’t listen to a fucking thing I say,” Tank said. “You’re nineteen, Josie. Move the fuck out.”

“And go where?” I mean seriously. Did he expect money to just magically appear? I’d tried the college thing, but it wasn’t for me. I wasn’t about to tell anyone I’d been stalked and attacked on campus. Mom would make it all my fault, and Tank would likely beat the fucker into the ground. Then big brother would be in jail. Now that I’d refused to go back… No, I wasn’t going to think about that because big brother was going to fix it. At least he fucking better.

Tank shrugged.

I screeched and stomped my foot before marching over to the bar. The Prospect handing out drinks stared at me wide-eyed, not that I was surprised. I was acting like a fucking brat and I knew it, but dammit. I was seriously losing my shit over this mess.

My life had become so fucked up in a very short time, and I didn’t see any way out of it. I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and I refused to listen to my mother this time. She’d ruled my life long enough. I was going to take a stand. I just preferred not to take that stand and end up living in a cardboard box behind the diner. I might not be a prissy princess, but I also knew I didn’t have the skills to survive on the streets. Just the thought of not being able to wash my hair every day was enough to give me hives.

Okay, so maybe I was a little bit of a prissy princess.

“Whiskey,” I snapped at the Prospect.

“You’re underage,” Tank said.

“Since when do you obey the law?” I sneered. Please. As if my big, badass biker brother gave a shit about what was legal or not. I’d be willing to bet every penny in his account came from illegal dealings. Not that I’d ever asked, and I never would. I didn’t give a shit what he did, as long as he stayed alive and out of jail.

Tank tossed his hands into the air and turned away from me. “Someone else can deal with this shit.”

I could feel someone moving closer to me, but I was a little more interested in staring down the Prospect who still hadn’t given me my fucking whiskey. I glared, and he glared right back. Little did he realize, I could do this shit all night, and I was not leaving until I’d had a drink or five. No way I was dealing with my fucked-up life stone-cold sober. If I had to go home to the she-beast known as Mom, I was going to need some liquid courage. Even that wouldn’t likely be enough to face the fate she had in store for me. Just the thought of it made me want to puke.

“Give. Me. The. God. Damn. Whiskey.”

“You’re under –”

I growled and bared my teeth at him. “You’re about two fucking seconds older than me and I know you’re all up in here whoring and drinking your ass off every night. Don’t you lecture me, you fucking prick.”

I heard a chuckle to my left and turned my head in that direction, but the baleful glare I was going to blast the guy with fizzled and died when I got a good look at him. He was quite a bit older than me, probably close to my brother’s age, but God was he sexy as hell. His chocolate eyes just pulled me in and promised all sorts of wicked delights. My gaze strayed down his chest, and I couldn’t help but lick my lips. The material clung to him, showing off very well-defined pecs that I wouldn’t mind exploring. The patch on his cut said he was part of Devil’s Boneyard, an MC I hadn’t heard of before now. But if he was here on Dixie Reapers property, then he must be okay.

“Jackal,” he said, holding out a hand.

“Josie.”

“So I heard.” He smirked. “So, do you really want a drink? Because there are other, much more entertaining ways to blow off steam.”

“Oh, are there?” I asked, playing along. I didn’t whore around, but no one would believe me if I told them that. I dressed to kill, but I’d taken my own virginity with a vibrator when I’d turned sixteen. No way I was leaving something like that up to a fumbling guy who didn’t know fuck all about pleasing a girl. Since then, I hadn’t seen the reason to get overly dirty. But this guy… Yeah, I could see myself getting all hot and sweaty with him.

He reached over and trailed a finger down my bare arm, making me shiver in the most delicious way. “I bet I could keep you entertained for hours. Maybe days.”

“Days?” My gaze dropped to his lap and the rather impressive cock straining against his jeans before flicking back up to his face. “You seem awfully sure of yourself.”

“Oh, baby, you have no idea.” He winked and I couldn’t help but smile.

I’d often had fun flirting with Tank’s brothers, but there was something about this guy that made me want to do much, much more. For the first time in my life, I was tempted to take a true walk on the wild side. He seemed like the type of guy who could make a woman forget her name, claw up his back, and beg for more. If I was going to let some guy fuck me, he was definitely at the top of the list of possibilities. He had this sexy smirk that made my panties damp, and the way he ran his hand through his hair had me wanting to lean just a little closer. And those tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves! Oh yeah, I wanted to explore those with my tongue.

“Maybe you should convince me,” I said.

“I thought you’d never ask.” His eyes blazed as he reached for my hand, tugging me off the barstool and leading me out the front door.

I didn’t know where we were going, and right then, I didn’t much care. As long as I wasn’t heading home, I was all right with any destination, especially if Mr. Tall Dark and Sexy was leading the way.

We stopped at a Harley that made me want to drool, it was that goddamn beautiful. He swung his leg over the seat, then held out his hand. I climbed on behind him, my body fitting against his like we were two pieces of a puzzle. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on as he pulled out of the lot and headed for the front gate. The Prospect on duty let us through, and Jackal opened up the bike on the highway, flying down the road and taking us farther and farther away from my small Alabama town.

 

More from Harley at Changeling Press …

Short. Erotic. Sweet. Harley’s other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. 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.

Harley’s website: harleywylde.com

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Rocket (Hades Abyss MC) by Harley Wylde #bikerbooks #MayDecember #OlderManYoungerWoman #MCromance #NewAdult #PregnancyRomance #interracial @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

Rocket (Hades Abyss MC 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Violeta — It’s been a year since I was brought to the US and given to Rocket. I’d thought he was like the others and would only cause me pain. I was wrong. Rocket is the kindest, sweetest man I’ve ever met. I arrived an abused, pregnant teen. Now I’m a more confident woman, and I have Rocket to thank. Falling in love with him was inevitable, but now I need him to see me as a desirable woman and not a girl who needs his protection.

Rocket — The young girl who came to live with me was more broken than I’d realized. The horrors she faced have made her stronger, but it didn’t happen overnight. It’s hard not to watch her, to want her. I shouldn’t. I’m too damn old for an eighteen-year-old woman. She’s not as fragile, physically and emotionally, but I can’t shut off the protector inside me that wants to shelter her and keep her safe. When she’s taken, I know that the men responsible will die. I only hope that side of me doesn’t scare my sweet Vi, but nothing will stop me from spilling their blood. I just don’t know if we can end the war before it starts, or if this will only be the beginning. I’ll keep her safe, no matter the cost, because she’s mine whether she knows it or not.

WARNING: This book contains violence, strong language, explicit sex scenes, and an abused woman. But it also has a biker who will protect the woman he loves, no cheating, and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.

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PRAISE FOR ROCKET

“This is such a great book. I love it! Violeta has blossomed… Rocket is perfect for her. He worships her, and that’s just what she needs. I love interconnected series like Miss Wylde writes, it makes the books even better to me. There are also quite a few little nuggets about a character whose story has yet to be told. I could have read at least 25 more chapters.”

— 5 Stars from Victoria, Goodreads Review

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Harley Wylde

Violeta

My hands trembled and my stomach felt like it was flipping and knotting up all at the same time. It was no secret my father didn’t love me, but I’d never dreamed he’d ship me off to a new country. Even though my sisters had been given away as well, our middle sister, Sofia, wouldn’t be with us. She’d been given to a different group of men, and I worried what would happen to her. Our life had been far from easy, but at least we’d always had each other.

I fought not to look at Luciana as I descended the steps of the jet. She couldn’t protect me, never could. But as the eldest, she’d always done her best to watch over us, and we’d looked up to her. Nothing could save us from our father or his men, but since we’d lost our mother when we were younger, it had made us all closer. I could hear her coming down the steps of the plane and I hastened closer to the group of men who would now decide my fate.

“You’re going to stay with Rocket,” an older man said. The writing on his black leather vest said Spider — President Hades Abyss MC. I’d heard that Luciana was to go with this man, and I hoped he’d be kind to her, but there was a resentment in his eyes that didn’t bode well for any of us.

My heart hammered in my chest as a tall, blond man lumbered toward me. It took every bit of strength I had not to turn around and run. As his hand closed over my arm, I took a breath to steady my nerves. I could do this. It was just like all the other times. Being in a different country didn’t matter. Though his grip was firm, it wasn’t overly tight and he wasn’t hurting me. Already that was progress over the men I’d known in my past.

“I’ll be good to you,” I said softly.

The blond man looked confused a moment, shared a look with the man called Spider, then gave my arm a slight tug. I followed him to a motorcycle that was all black and chrome. I didn’t know anything about them, nor did I know how to sit on one. He huffed, sounding exasperated, then lifted me and settled me on the seat. His hands pressed against my waist sent a strange feeling through me and my gaze jerked to his face, but he seemed oblivious to whatever I’d just felt.

Rocket climbed on in front of me and when I didn’t move, he gave a soft growl before reaching back and gripping my hands, then placed them on the leather of his vest. I let my hands settle there, lightly, not really understanding.

“Hold on or you’ll fall off.”

I held him loosely, scared that I would offend him and earn myself a punishment right away, but as the bike rumbled to life and shot forward, I squealed and tightened my grip, fisting the material. The wind whipped through my hair, and the bike vibrated under me. Had I not been terrified about what awaited me, I might have enjoyed the ride. There was a certain freedom to being on the back of his bike. By the time Rocket slowed the machine, I found myself wishing we could keep riding.

I didn’t know where we were going, didn’t really understand what was happening. I only knew the man called Casper VanHorne had brokered some sort of deal between my father and the bikers, and I’d only gleaned that from what little I’d heard discussed between the two men. My father had told us to do as we were told and not anger the men. Each of us knew exactly what that meant. We were to be his perfect little whores or suffer the consequences. A numbness filled me and I knew that I would never escape my fate.

A large gate slid open and Rocket pulled through, taking the bike down the road past homes. I wondered if it was similar to the compound my father had, just a more rustic version. In Colombia, we were protected by high brick walls and lots of armed guards. My father’s home was a mansion, easily big enough to house several families. Here I just saw miles of chain-link fencing with that sharp wire on top of it and modest homes.

Rocket came to a stop in the carport next to a small house. It was cute, and under other circumstances, I might have been enchanted by it. Instead, I knew what waited inside for me. The same abuse I’d suffered for years. I got off the bike, my legs unsteady, and I wobbled a moment. Rocket shut off the machine before standing. He gave a slight nod of his head for me to follow him. I tried to calm the rioting swarm of angry wasps in my stomach as I stepped through the front door of my new home.

I didn’t know how long I’d remain with Rocket. I’d seen quite a few bikes at the airstrip, and there were even more homes here. How long before he passed me to someone else? My father had made sure I understood none of these men had women in their lives. It was up to me and Luciana to keep them satisfied, no matter what they wanted from us.

The door shutting made me feel as if I were being sealed in a tomb. My fingers trembled as I worked the buttons on my top and then shrugged it off. The atmosphere seemed to change, and I looked over my shoulder to see Rocket frozen in place, his eyes comically wide.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’ll be good,” I said, shoving my shorts down my legs. “I know my place.”

“What? I…”

I reached for the clasp on my bra and as the scrap of cotton fell to the floor, Rocket made a strange noise and bolted from the room. I blinked and stared, not sure what had just happened. I finished undressing and went after him, thinking that maybe I’d messed up and I was supposed to wait until we were in a different room. The door at the end of the hall was closed and when I tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t budge.

“Did I do it wrong? Was I supposed to wait until we were somewhere else?” I asked through the door.

Panic started to well inside me. I’d already messed up. I’d upset him, and now I’d have to pay. A whimper escaped my lips as I sank to the floor, wrapping my arms around my legs. I rocked back and forth, terrified over what I’d be forced to endure to make amends. White noise filled my ears and my vision tunneled until all I could see were scenes from my past. My father’s men and the things they’d done to me.

Hands gripped my arms and I screamed, but I’d learned the hard way not to fight. I hung limp, unseeing, and lost in the past. Words were murmured in my ear, but I couldn’t make sense of them. My back landed against cool sheets, and then a blanket was drawn over me. A large hand smoothed my hair from my face and I blinked rapidly.

The past faded and I saw Rocket leaning over me, concern etched on his features. “Easy, Violeta. No one will hurt you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I couldn’t stop the words, repeating them over and over, hoping he’d forgive this one transgression.

Rocket backed away and then left the room. I waited, wondering if he would bring something back, one of those prods my father’s men used to shock me, or something worse. Instead, he set my clothes on the dresser and stepped into the hall. He pointed at the door and the doorframe.

“This is your space. Yours and only yours. No one is permitted in this room without your permission, including me,” he said. “You’re safe, Violeta.”

Safe? There was no such thing as safe. I was certain he was playing a trick on me, lulling me into a false sense of security so that it would be more traumatic when he showed his true colors. I wouldn’t be fooled. Not again.

Rocket stared at me a moment before muttering a curse and stomping off down the hall. I heard the front door open and slam shut, my body tense and waiting for whatever would come next. I waited for what felt like forever, but he didn’t return.

Eventually, I curled onto my side and let the tears fall. I hadn’t cried in so long. Tears had never solved anything. My chest ached and my throat hurt by the time I’d shed my last tear. I didn’t know what to make of this strange new life, or the man I now belonged to. Nothing made sense anymore.

Whatever I’d done to upset him, I’d fix it. I had to. It was no longer just me that I had to worry about. I placed a hand over my belly.

“I’ll keep you safe,” I promised the child growing there. I only hoped I wasn’t lying to the both of us.

 

More from Harley at Changeling Press …

Short. Erotic. Sweet. Harley’s other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. 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.

Harley Wylde is the “wilder” side of award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith. Visit Jessica’s website at jessicacoultersmith.com or Harley’s website at harleywylde.com.  Want to be notified of new releases or special discounts? Sign up for her newsletter!