Hounds of Hell MC, Book 3

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense

Date Published: April 19, 2024

Sadie — I finally found the courage to escape my abusive boyfriend, but I
didn’t make it far. I’m holed up in a small Virginia town called
Mercy. There will be no mercy for me if my ex finds me. Thanks to Axel, the
gorgeous biker who towed my car to his garage, I have a place to stay and a
job at the town’s greenhouse. I also have the hope that I might have a
second chance at love one day, with Axel.

Axel — When I got called to tow a broken-down car to my garage, I found
the beaten and battered angel who owns it on the run from the devil. Here in
Mercy, with me, she’s healing and learning to live again. When her ex
figures out Sadie’s here, even his mafia ties can’t protect him
from me. His entire mafia family can’t take back what’s mine and
there’s going to be hell to pay when they try.

EXCERPT

Axel

It was a cold February morning. Alexander Harper had just sat down with his
first cup of coffee when his phone hummed in his pocket. When he pulled it
out and looked at the screen, he saw the call was from Cowboy Pete’s,
a local gas station just off the interstate.

“This is Axel,” he said, using the road name he’d been
given by Razor when he’d been a prospect.

“Hey, hon. How are you?” He recognized Elsie Damron’s
voice. She’d worked at the gas station since he was a kid.

“Cold,” he said. “What can I do for you
today?”

“A young lady stopped for gas a little while ago,” Elsie
explained. “She filled it up but now her car won’t
start.”

“You give her bad gas?” Axel asked, grinning.

“No,” Elsie said. “Well, I hope not. There’s smoke
rolling out from under the hood. Looks like it’s overheating to me.
Can you come take a look at it?”

“Yeah.” Axel knew the quiet morning was too good to be true.
Putting the call on speaker, he placed his phone on his desk, grabbing a tie
from his desk drawer to pull his hair back from his face. “Did you
already call Tyler? I appreciate the business, but it would be a lot closer,
and cheaper, to tow it to his place.”

“Yeah, I know,” Elsie said, her voice dropping to a loud stage
whisper. “But I think you would be better for this particular
situation.”

“Okay, I’ll head that way,” he told her.
“What’s she driving?”

“He’s going to come get you,” Elsie said to someone there
with her. To Axel, she said, “Yeah, it’s an older sedan. A
Lincoln, I think. What model year is your car?”

Axel couldn’t make out what the other person said.

“It’s a 2002 model,” Elsie told him.

“Give me thirty minutes,” Axel said, ending the call.

Taking his coffee with him, Axel headed back into the shop. His twin
brother Ryder was working on an SUV brought in yesterday. Ryder looked up
when he saw Axel approach.

“Where you off to?” Ryder asked.

“Got to tow someone in,” Axel told him. “I’ll be
back.”

When Axel reached Cowboy Pete’s with the tow truck, there were
several cars there. They had a halfway decent grill inside the station, and
it was a popular breakfast stop for town regulars and travelers alike. He
pulled into the lot and parked, heading in to have Elsie point out the lady
and her car.

Elsie grinned when she saw him at the counter. “Thanks for coming,
hon. She’s a couple of spaces down from where you parked. The black
Lincoln.”

“You bet,” he told her, seeing it in the window behind the
counter where the older lady stood.

“Axel?” Elsie called as he headed for the door.

“Yeah?”

“If I can do anything for her, you let me know, okay?” And the
kind older woman meant it.

“Will do,” he told her, curious now about what he was walking
into.

Axel returned to the tow truck, spotting the black Lincoln that was just
three spaces to the right of him with no cars parked in between. It looked
like someone was sitting in the driver’s seat. Walking up to the car,
Axel tapped on the driver’s window. The lady jumped in the seat,
startled. Axel saw a flash of red curls before she peered up at him through
the window.

Now Elsie’s words made sense. The young woman’s left eye was
black and almost swollen shut. Her nose was swollen and bruised, her lip
split. Someone had beat the fuck out of this little lady. Slowly, she opened
the door and got out of her car. Her careful movements told him her face
wasn’t the only thing that hurt her this morning. Axel stepped back to
give her room as she closed the door and leaned back against it.

The way she wrapped her arms protectively around herself and the fear in
her green-eyed gaze had him pausing. Now he knew why Elsie called their
garage. Tyler wasn’t a bad guy, but he was gruff and lacking in most
social niceties.

This young woman before him looked like she’d been through hell and
was expecting more.

“Hi there,” Axel said. “Elsie called me to come look at
your car. What’s going on?”

“It overheated I think,” she said quietly. “I was okay
for a couple of hours. But then it would heat up and it would start smoking.
I would stop and let it cool off. I stopped here to get gas and let it cool
off again. When I tried to restart it this time, it
wouldn’t.”

“Would you pop the hood for me?” Axel asked.

She scrambled back into the driver’s seat, searching for the lever to
do that. Just when he was about to offer to do it for her, she found
it.

Axel lifted the hood and removed the radiator cap. Walking back around to
where she sat behind the wheel with the driver-side door open, he said,
“Try starting it.”

It did start but looking into the radiator, he saw the coolant start to
bubble up like a milkshake. Walking back toward her, he saw white smoke
coming out of the tailpipe in the rear. Well, that wasn’t good
news.

“Turn it off,” he told her.

She did as he said, climbing back out of the car.

“Yeah, that’s a blown head gasket,” Axel explained.
“The smoke coming out of the back is coolant getting into your exhaust
system. It’s not supposed to do that.”

“Can you fix it?” she asked. “H-how long will it
take?”

“I can fix it,” he said. “How long it will take depends
on a couple of things. I need to find a replacement for the head gasket and
if there’s any damage to the engine, we might need parts for that too.
Once we have the parts we need, I can have it fixed in two or three
days.”

Axel could tell that wasn’t the answer she was hoping to get. It was
probably a good idea to get all the bad news out at once.

“It’s also going to be expensive,” Axel told her.
“You’re probably looking at two to three thousand dollars to fix
it.”

Those big green eyes were getting shiny with tears and Axel felt a tiny bit
of panic creeping in. He was no damn good with tears. Never had been. He had
to find some way to make the situation the little lady was in less
terrible.

“Where are you headed?” he asked. “Do you have any
friends or family we can call that will come help you out?”

Dropping her gaze, she shook her head.

“Where are you heading?” Axel tried again.

She shrugged for an answer.

“Do you know if your insurance covers towing?” he asked. If
nothing else, it looked like he was going to be towing her back to his
garage.

She shook her head. Pretty red curls swung with her movements.

“Do you have your insurance information in the car? We could
call,” he offered.

“I don’t have it,” she told him.

Didn’t have a destination. Didn’t have insurance information?
What the hell was the situation here? When he gave her the cost of towing
the car, she reached into the pocket of her coat, pulled out a credit card,
and handed it to him. It was brand-new and shiny. Axel doubted it had ever
been used.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m going to run this, and
we’ll be on our way.”

She scrambled back into her car like a scared mouse. Axel shook his head as
he headed back to his tow truck, reaching in to get the card reader they
used for payments. The name on the card was Sadie Downing.

What the hell happened to Sadie?

He ran the card. The transaction went through which surprised him. He
walked back to her car, tapping on the window to return her card. Again, she
scrambled out of her car, looking around nervously.

Axel just had to ask. “Are you okay? The local hospital is on the way
back to the garage.”

“I’m fine,” she said a little too quickly.

“Okay.” He would leave it at that. “Why don’t you
go ahead and climb in the tow truck? I’ll get your car hooked up and
we’ll get going.”

“Thank you,” she said quickly before making a beeline for the
truck, hastily climbing into the cab.

It didn’t take Axel long to hook up her car and get them on the road.
Sadie, if that was her name, huddled quietly in the far corner of the cabin
with her head leaning on the window. While he normally appreciated the
silence, just now it was awkward. He really wanted to ask her what happened.
Who did that to her face?

One thing was pretty certain. She was on the run, and she was afraid.
Looking at her, he understood why.

About the Author

Jamie Targaet is the author of the Hounds of Hell MC. She’s anxious to
introduce you to this club of gorgeous, dominant men and the lucky women who
surrender to them. The ride is going to get wild at times, not going to lie.
But there’s thrilling action, scorching hot sex scenes, and all the
feels. 

Jamie writes erotic romance for Changeling Press, a little fanfiction on
the side, and she’s an aspiring horror writer in another life. She enjoys
time with her family (including the fur babies). She likes good horror
movies and shows, emo metal and classic rock, and time spent in other worlds
writing and reading. She loves hearing from readers and is looking forward
to hearing from you.

Contact Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Amazon

Author’s Website

 Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

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A Dixie Reapers Bad Boys Romance

Dixie Reapers MC, Book 20

Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense

Date Published: March 29, 2024

Ares – My life hasn’t always been kittens and rainbows. I spent
years as a captive, so when someone breaks into the compound and threatens
my little siblings, I go with the kidnappers instead. I’ve survived
being enslaved before, but the little ones wouldn’t make it. I can
only hope the club will find me in time.

Prophet – I’ve been patiently waiting for Ares to not only be
old enough for me to date her, but also for her to be ready. But I waited
too f**king long, and now she’s been taken. The bastard who has her is
going to pay, and once she’s back in my arms, I’m never letting
her go again.

WARNING: Prophet is intended for readers 18+ due to adult content, darker
themes, language, and violence. While it can be read as a stand-alone, you
may enjoy the story more if you read Joker first.

EXCERPT

Ares

Times had changed. The Dixie Reapers’ clubhouse no longer boasted
loud parties and naked women. Well, the naked women were gone, at any rate.
Music pulsed from the speakers as everyone took a much-needed break. My dad
had been in Church off and on since this mess started, and more often than
not, the members hung out in the clubhouse discussing the issue at hand.
Except right now, the doors were open to anyone.

I sat at the bar with a soda. Portia sat on one side of me and
Venom’s youngest, Dawson, was on my other side. Patched members lined
the bar on either side of them.

“Pass me a beer, Ares,” Bull shouted from farther down. I
reached over the counter into the ice chest, then slid the longneck down the
bar top. I caught a smirk from my father as he watched.

“Hey, Pres. Think your girl has a future as a bartender,” Bull
said. He chuckled and twisted the top off. “She’s got good
aim.”

“Better than Foster’s aim last week,” I shot back, a
playful jab at his son’s appalling shooting during target practice. He
snorted and took a swallow of his beer, while Foster shot me a glare.

This place was my home. Dad and the Dixie Reapers had been my salvation,
pulling me from the abyss with hands as rough as the life they led. Even
though I couldn’t be a patched member, I was a Reaper’s kid. My
dad had given me permission to get the club colors inked on my shoulder
blade. It was a super small one compared to the ones the guys here had.
I’d seen quite a few with the colors covering their entire backs. In
addition, I’d gotten a phoenix rising from the ashes inked on the
outside of my right thigh — a mirror of my own rebirth.

Foster might be mad at me right now, but I knew he’d get over it. In
a lot of ways, he was like a brother to me. All of the kids here close to my
age felt like family. Although, Foster, Owen, and Dawson were all older than
me. Not that I could tell when it came to Foster.

Cowboy’s son, Jackson, entered the clubhouse, his cowboy boots
thudding against the wood floor as he came closer. He put his arms around me
and hugged me from behind.

“You smell like horses and dirt.”

“Mom always said it was the best scent in the world.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. Yeah, I could see his mother
saying that. “Well, it’s better than sweat, I guess. Preparing
for your next rodeo?”

“I was planning to head out in the morning, but with everything going
on…”

I tipped my head back to look up at him. “You should go. If you put
your life on hold every time something bad happens around here, you’ll
never get to do the one thing you love most.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Yeah, I know. You’re awfully
smart for someone so young.”

“You’re only six years older than me, Jackson. It’s not
like you’re ancient.”

“In rodeo years, I’m over a decade older than you.”

I really did laugh that time. “Is that like dog years or
something?”

“Close enough. Hand me a beer. I’m going to go with Akira.
She’s in the corner with her nose in a book again.”

I reached over for another longneck and passed it to him. He patted my
shoulder before wandering off. I watched him, noticing he hadn’t lied.
Akira, Wraith’s daughter, really did have a book in front of her face.
From the cover, no one would realize she was reading smut. If her parents
had any idea of the types of books she bought, they’d both have a
fit.

I sipped on my soda and just soaked up the atmosphere. My friends and
family were all talking or laughing. Despite everything going on outside the
club gates, they seemed at peace in this particular moment. Happy. I hoped
things could stay like this. I didn’t want anyone here to suffer the
way I had.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Tank said, approaching
with a smile on his face. “Ares Black, quiet as a church
mouse.”

I smirked, nudging him with my elbow. “Just soaking it all in. Some
days, I don’t remember how blessed I am, until we’re all
together like this. Family. Friendship. As long as we have those, we can
weather any storm.”

“Damn straight.” He clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder.
“We’re always in your corner, Ares.”

“Same here,” I replied. It wasn’t just words — it was a
promise. We were the Dixie Reapers, and we protected our own with the
ferocity of a mother bear defending her cubs. I might not be a member of the
club itself, but as the President’s daughter, these people were still
my family, and I’d die to keep them safe.

I glanced at my watch and stood. Joker wanted Cleo to feel welcome here,
and while I wasn’t quite ready to be friends with the woman, I also
knew what it was like to be the outsider. I’d promised to head over
and play a board game. Instead of driving, I decided to walk. The fresh air
would be nice, and it would give me time to get my thoughts in order. It
felt like utter chaos inside my head these days.

Ridley and Isabella were already there when I arrived. I fell into step
behind them as they entered Joker’s home. Ridley had a few board games
tucked under her arm. At least they’d come prepared, because I doubted
Joker had any. I’d already given them a few of the ones we had at home
that I thought might be fun.

“Hey, Cleo,” I said.

“Good to see you guys.” Her voice sounded hollow, and it looked
like she hadn’t been sleeping well.

Isabella walked over to her first, giving her a hug. “How are you
holding up?”

“Counting down the minutes,” she said.

Ridley clapped her hands together, the sound sharp in the quiet room.
“We’re here to take your mind off things. Right,
Ares?”

I nodded. “Yeah, we brought some board games. Thought we could all
use a distraction.”

“Thanks,” she murmured.

We settled around her kitchen table. Before we’d even had a chance to
set up the game, someone knocked on the door. Joker went to answer. Ridley
started to set up one of the games, and Isabella and I helped. I noticed
Cleo kept glancing toward the door.

He returned with an envelope and handed it to Cleo. “For
you.”

“Who’s it from?” she asked. She ripped open the envelope
and as she read the contents of the paper inside, she paled a bit.

“Everything all right?” Isabella asked.

“Fine,” she said. Did anyone else notice the tremor in her
voice or the way her hands trembled? “Just a reminder about my
appointment.”

“Ah, can’t forget that,” Ridley said.

“Let’s focus on the game,” Cleo suggested.

I rolled the dice and gave a little shout of excitement, hoping to make
things seem as normal as possible. “All right!”

Everyone took their turns rolling the dice and moving their tokens. When it
went around to Cleo, she stared at the board, almost as if she wasn’t
fully present. I glanced at Ridley and Isabella, and realized they’d
noticed it too. Cleo must have a lot on her mind between the issues with her
family and her heart problem.

“Your move, Cleo,” Ridley prompted.

“Right,” she mumbled.

We played for quite a while, until the sky started to darken. I
didn’t know if this had distracted Cleo or not, but it had kept me
from focusing on things for a while. I hadn’t realized how much
I’d needed this until now. I helped clean up the games, then we told
Joker and Cleo goodbye.

Ridley offered me a ride, but I waved her off. The walk would do me some
good. I paused at the clubhouse and stared at my car. It didn’t make
sense to leave it here overnight, but at the same time, I’d prefer to
get home on my own two feet than by driving there. I decided to leave it and
kept walking.

A sudden chill prickled my skin, a whisper of danger that tightened my
muscles. A feeling of unease skittered down my spine, and I wondered if
trouble was drawing closer than any of us realized.

When I got home, there was a wrongness I felt all the way to my core. I
slowly approached the house, keeping an eye on my surroundings, just the way
Dad had taught me. I twisted the knob on the front door and pushed it
open.

“Mom? Are you here?” I called out. Nothing. Not so much as a
whisper of sound. I eased farther into the house, wondering if I should call
Dad. Dessa’s car was outside, which meant she had to be here. She
hadn’t ridden with him to the clubhouse earlier, even though
she’d been there with the kids.

“Junie, Judd, Marnie!” I shouted.

No one answered, and I couldn’t find anyone at home. I went back
outside, wondering if maybe they went to a neighbor’s house. Before
I’d made it to the end of the driveway, I felt the cold kiss of metal
against my neck.

About the Author

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC
Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde
immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible
women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still
managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde’s website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts
and other exciting perks.

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

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Dixie Reapers MC, Book 19

Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense, 2nd Chances

Date Published: February 23, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press

Cleo — My family put me through hell, and I escaped the only way
possible… by marrying a biker locked up in prison. Joker gave me his
name and a way to hide from my family. Until the day they find me…
Now it’s time I return to the husband who doesn’t want me and
hope he doesn’t find out all my secrets — because if he does, I have
a feeling he’s going to make me leave.

Joker — She seemed sweet and innocent. Marrying her wasn’t a big
deal. Then I managed to obtain my freedom, and with it, I decided to set her
free as well. Only one problem. She doesn’t want a divorce. Now Cleo
is living with me, and my club has accepted her as part of our family. None
of us realized she was hiding something that could destroy us, but at the
end of the day, she’s mine and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep
her safe.

WARNING: Joker is intended for adult readers 18+ due to bad language,
violence, and adult situations. There’s no cliffhanger involving the
main characters. There is a slight cliffhanger involving secondary
characters, which will be resolved in the next book. Guaranteed happily ever
after, and no cheating!

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2024 Harley Wylde

Joker

The clanging of metal bars and shouting inmates jolted me awake. Another
day in this hellhole. I blinked against the harsh fluorescent lights as the
guard banged his baton against my cell, barking at me to get up. My joints
creaked in protest as I slid off the thin mattress onto the cold concrete
floor. I’d wasted away in this cage for over a decade, my youth fading
with each endless day.

“Mail,” the guard said, thrusting a letter into my cell.

Only one person wrote to me. Someone I’d never met in person, though
she’d sent me a picture one time. Out of boredom, I’d signed up
for a pen pal program, not expecting much. To my surprise, I’d
received dozens of letters — all from women. One had stood out. A teen girl
named Cleo.

I’d been hesitant to respond. At forty-eight, I’d felt like it
was wrong to reply to her. My morals might be questionable, but I still had
a line I wouldn’t cross. In the end, I’d answered her, and
we’d been writing to each other ever since. She’d needed a
sympathetic ear, and I’d needed a distraction.

I opened Cleo’s latest letter, her looping cursive filling the page.
My light in this darkness. She saw the man beneath the cut, the heart behind
the grim façade. Her letters were a glimpse of the world outside
these walls. She shared her dreams, her troubles, her very soul. And I
confessed things to her I’d never uttered aloud. The abandoned boy who
turned to the club for family, the gnawing loneliness beneath the swagger.
She understood. We were both fighting our own demons.

The guard slammed the bars again. “Chow time, Joker! Look
alive!”

I tucked Cleo’s letter into my pocket, close to my heart. I’d
survive another day in this concrete tomb just to read her words again
tonight. And someday, somehow, I’d be free. I wasn’t sure what
would happen then. We were worlds apart in a lot of ways. Once I left this
place, Cleo would come to be a part of my past. It would be dangerous for us
to keep in touch.

I shuffled into the cafeteria, the din of inmates engulfing me. I kept my
head down as I grabbed my tray of slop and found an empty table. Solitude
was survival in this jungle. Placing my arm around my tray, I shoveled food
into my mouth. In this place, you had to protect what was yours.

My thoughts drifted to Cleo as I forced down the cold mush. She
hadn’t written in weeks. Her family was poison. From what I’d
gathered they were all rotten to the core. She only hinted at the horrors
she’d seen, but I sensed the fear beneath her brave words. At
seventeen, she shouldn’t be worried about surviving. She should be
having fun with her friends, enjoying her high school years, and figuring
out where she wanted to go in life. I hated not being able to do anything
for her, except listen.

My fists clenched, rage simmering through my veins. If they touched one
hair on her head, I’d kill them. She was too pure for this world, an
angel who deserved so much more. I had to protect her, no matter the cost.
Except… the shackles binding me went deeper than this prison. I owed
my club my life and my loyalty. I couldn’t do anything without talking
to them first, and I hadn’t heard from any of them in a long-ass time.
I’d fucked up, and it had felt like they all turned their backs on
me.

The guards herded us to the yard, the sun blinding after days under
flickering fluorescent lights. I found a shady corner and waited. Breathing
in the fresh air meant nothing without freedom. I’d only traded an
interior cage for an exterior one.

A hush fell over the inmates. The warden stormed across the yard, his face
like thunder. He stopped in front of me, his eyes hard. Well, shit. Had I
done something wrong again? It wasn’t often he came in person. Then
again, I wasn’t always nice to the guards. Maybe he was simply
protecting his men.

“You’ve got a visitor, Joker.”

My pulse quickened. No one had come to see me in years. What the fuck was
going on?

The warden didn’t like me. In fact, we’d frequently butted
heads during my incarceration. It had to piss him off that I had a visitor.
The man would do anything to keep me from even one moment of happiness. I
knew if he could, he’d keep me locked up for the rest of my
life.

I followed the warden through the maze of fences and gates until we reached
the visitation room. My breath caught when I saw her. Even though I’d
only seen one picture of her, I recognized her right away.

Cleo.

She looked small and fragile in the plastic chair, her fingers twisting a
tissue. Bruises shadowed under her eyes, barely hidden by makeup. My heart
clenched.

I sat down, picking up the phone. Her eyes flooded with tears as she did
the same.

“Joker,” she whispered. “I’m so
sorry…”

“What happened?”

She glanced around quickly before answering. “My brother found out
about the letters. He was furious. Said no one in the family should
associate with your kind.”

My jaw tightened, fury rising. My kind, huh? Seemed like her brother
wasn’t any better. “Did he hurt you?”

“It doesn’t matter –”

“The hell it doesn’t!” I snarled. “You listen to
me. I’m getting you out of there, you hear me? We’ll leave town,
start over somewhere new.”

“How?” Her voice trembled. “You still have years left of
your sentence.”

I placed my hand against the glass. “Marry me.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Marry me,” I repeated. “You just turned eighteen, right?
So you don’t need your family’s permission. I know the warden
hates me, but… I’ll convince him somehow. He’ll do the
ceremony right here. Then when I get out, we can start over — together, if
that’s what you want.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks. She put her hand against mine, even though
the glass separated us. “Yes. I’ll marry you,
Joker.”

“I’ll find a way to get word to you. If your brother is angry
about us talking, then I can’t send it to your house. Find someone
willing to help you and send me their address. I’ll correspond with
you through them.”

She nodded and wiped away more tears. We talked for another minute, then
our time was up. I watched her walk away and hoped I’d made the right
choice. If this came back to bite me in the ass, it might end up harming her
too.

* * *

It took two weeks to convince the warden. In the end, he only agreed in
order to help Cleo. I stood in a dingy room, still cuffed and wearing my
prison-issued jumpsuit. It wouldn’t be the wedding of her dreams, but
hopefully it kept her safe.

Cleo entered the room in a simple white dress, holding a small bouquet of
daisies. Her smile nearly blinded me. I didn’t know why she looked so
happy. It made me wonder what she thought about this marriage. I had to
admit, she looked beautiful.

We exchanged brief vows. No kiss or embrace could seal our union. It ended
nearly as soon as it had begun. The guards escorted her from the room and
sent me back to my cell. I could only hope changing her name from Cleo
Lathem to Cleo Clemons would help her in some way.

My heart ached, knowing she had to return to that abusive household. I felt
powerless, stuck in this damn cell while she suffered. I slammed my fist
against the concrete in frustration. They couldn’t legally force her
to do anything, but people like that didn’t care about the law.
She’d have to disappear to avoid the danger of living with her family.
At least with her name changed, she’d have a chance to get away.
Hopefully, it would take them a while to figure out she’d gotten
married. I only wished I had some money to give her too.

The next visiting day, her eyes were puffy from crying as she picked up the
phone. “It’s time. I’m leaving this week. Today will be my
last visit with you.”

I hadn’t expected her to ever come here again. Seeing her one last
time was more than enough. I nodded, letting her know I understood.

“Go as far as you can and don’t look back,” I said.

“Will you be okay?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve survived this place this
long. I’ll be fine. Protect yourself, Cleo, whatever it
takes.”

I hung up the phone, forcing her to leave. This was for the best. She
needed a clean break. As much as I’d enjoyed her letters, I hoped she
didn’t write anymore. It was time for her to start living. I’d
miss her like hell. She’d been a bright light in this dismal place.
Without her words to carry me through, I wasn’t sure what would happen
to me. Didn’t matter. I’d possibly die in this place. Even if I
got out, my life was probably halfway over. Assuming I didn’t get
shot, stabbed, or die in some other fun way long before I became an old man.
Cleo was just getting started. There was so much of the world for her to
explore, and I hope she got the chance to see it all.

For me, days passed. Then weeks. Months. I didn’t hear from Cleo
again. Time blurred. I lived one monotonous day after another. Wake up, work
out, eat, work, eat again, sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat.

My thoughts constantly drifted to Cleo when I wasn’t occupied. Was
she eating enough? Getting any sleep? Staying safe from her family’s
crooked dealings?

I wondered where she was now. How far had she gone? Was it a big enough
distance her family couldn’t find her? Part of me wondered if
we’d ever bump into each other again in the future, once I put this
place behind me. It ate at me, not knowing if she was safe or not. Had the
plan worked? Or had I married her for no reason?

About the Author

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC
Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde
immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible
women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still
managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde’s website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts
and other exciting perks.

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

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Grim Road MC, Book 1

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date to be Published: 2/9/24

Publisher: Changeling Press

Rocket: My life pretty much took a hard left a year ago when I first met
Lemon. She’s wise beyond her years and as abrasive and sarcastic as
they come. The second she busts my VP’s balls — literally — I know
I’d never be able to forget her. A year later I’m still
infatuated with the vicious woman. When she runs off to charge hell with a
water pistol, I’m right behind her wondering how we’re gonna get
out of this one alive. But I have a smile on my face and a determination to
give this woman anything she wants. Even if it means some things in my club
are going to have to change.

Lemon: Look. This is supposed to be all about how Rocket caught my eye and
I decided I wanted him but there were obstacles and…
phfffffff… Forget all that. What you need to know is when people are
stupid, they need a kick in the… Crap. I’m not supposed to
swear here. Grrrrr! Anyway, this is where I come in. Grim Road needs fixing.
I’m not exactly qualified to do club… garbage, but Rocket?
Yeah. I might have decided I’ll keep him, so… I’m great
at whipping people into shape. Grim Road, meet Lemon. See me, love me,
MF’ers.

Rocket: Just pass me the beer and popcorn…

WARNING: Rocket includes scenes of graphic violence and adult situations
including that may be triggers for some readers. There’s also a
protective hero, a determined heroine, and eventual happy ending. No
cheating, as always.

Excerpt

Copyright Marteeka Karland

I looked around, making sure I had a handle on our surroundings. If things
went south, our best bet was to get back in the truck and do our best to get
the hell outta Dodge. I had no idea if the thing was bulletproof — knowing
the Iron Tzars, there was every possibility it was — but we’d have to
keep our heads down and book it as hard as we could. If I ran over someone
in the process? Fuck ‘em.

“Get that look off your face, girl.” Rocket stepped closer to
us, his gaze focused squarely on me. “We ain’t gonna pounce on
you. You’re here to let Scarlet get anything she wants that she left
behind, and to talk to Sunshine and Rainbow.”

“We’re here to take Sunshine and Rainbow with us,” I
snapped before anyone could say anything else. “Not leavin’
‘em here.”

“You will if they don’t want to go.” Rocket didn’t
raise his voice or even look angry. His features were mild. Reasonable
even.

“Scarlet’s their guardian now. They’ll go where she
says.” I stuck my chin up. I thought I heard Mars groan, but I
didn’t dare take my gaze from Rocket to make sure.

“They’re old enough to make up their minds what they want to
do. If they don’t want to leave Grim Road, I’ll look after
them.”

“Not on your fuckin’ life.” I bared my teeth at Rocket
who looked amused. Which just pissed me the fuck off. “How ‘bout
I wipe that smug grin off your fuckin’ face.”

That got a couple chuckles from the members of Grim Road nearby.

“That one’s askin’ for a whoopin’, Prez. You gonna
teach her some manners?”

“Yep.” Rocket crossed his muscled arms over his massive chest.
He wore jeans and a leather cut without a shirt under it so he showed off a
lot of muscle and tattooed skin. “Just not now. She ain’t old
enough.”

“Like fuck you are.” I took a step toward Rocket, fully
intending to give him more of what I’d given him last night but Mars
held out his arm to prevent me from going around him.

“Just calm down, Lemon. He’s baiting you.”

“Lemon?” Bear barked out a laugh. “Her name’s
Lemon.” It wasn’t phrased as a question.

“You got a problem with that, fuckwit?” I ignored Mars. I knew
they were baiting me. Of all of Scarlet’s protectors, I was the weak
link and they were testing my boundaries and how far they could push
me.

“I got a problem with your mouth. Maybe there’s somethin’
else you could do with it.”

“Bear,” Rocket growled, his facial expression changing like
someone had flipped a switch. “She’s underage.”

“Yeah?” I plowed on, ignoring Rocket. “Try it. See what
body part you lose, you freak.”

Bear leaned forward in my direction but didn’t actually commit to
taking the full step. Then he pointed at me. “Your day’s comin,
lil’ bit.”

I sneered, looking the big man up and down like a princess eyeing a filthy
peasant who’d been mucking out the pig barn. “Not from
you.”

“Can we please get a move on?” Brick actually raised his voice.
That was new. Usually, he just growled or snarled and everyone jumped to do
his bidding. Well, everyone except Serelda. He never used his growly voice
with her.

“Sure. Soon as the Neanderthal gets the fuck outta the way.” I
gave Bear a cheerful wave.

“Glad that one’s leavin’,” he muttered as he
stepped back. “Someone needs to teach her some manners.”

“I only use manners with people who earn that respect from
me.”

“Which is to say no one.” I thought that was Smoke, but the man
didn’t know me that well. OK, so maybe he did. ‘Cause yeah.
Manners were for pussies.

About the Author

International bestselling author Marteeka Karland leads a double life as an
erotic romance writer by evening and a semi-domesticated housewife by day.
Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes pleasure in
spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited, vulnerable
heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a blissful
ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her writings are
speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning delight
entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying conclusions that
elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband
with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for
preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts
(which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with
Marteeka’s latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her
website. Don’t forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you
with a potpourri of Teeka’s beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph
events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

Author on Facebook

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

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