Iron Tzars MC, Book 10

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date to be Published: January 12, 2024

Scarlet — I left Florida and Grim Road, my father’s club, with
Hammer, believing he loved me. But Hammer turned out to be a monster,
brutalizing me at every turn. He’s using my sisters as leverage to
control me. I’ve got to find a way out, even if that means sacrificing
myself to save them. Though I’m eighteen, and still in high school,
there’s no one I can tell. Except my friend Lemon, whose dad is in the
Iron Tzars MC. When the club comes to rescue me, it’s almost too late.
But then there’s Mars, holding me tight and keeping my nightmares
away. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted. He makes me feel safe.
But he has his own demons… and I’m not sure which of us needs
saving most.

Mars — l have demons from my past I can’t overcome. Mostly I’m
reasonably sane, but if I have a flashback, the likelihood of someone
getting hurt is more than I can stomach. But when I see Hammer terrorizing
the young woman he claims is his, I know I can’t stand by and watch.
I’m not what she needs, but when her daddy’s club comes in hell
bent on taking her home, I realize just how much she means to me, and I will
never let her go. She’s mine to protect. Mine to hold. And maybe, just
maybe, she’s the one to save me from myself.

WARNING: Mars includes scenes of graphic violence and adult situations
including suicide and graphic description of torture 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 ©2024 Marteeka Karland

Mars

“What the fuck is goin’ on with Hammer’s old lady?”
I leaned against the bar with my finger curled around the neck of a bottle
of Bud Light. “She’s right-handed and hasn’t used her
right arm to do anything while she’s been here. Almost looks like her
shoulder’s dislocated. Look at the set of her shoulders.”

“Really, Mars? The woman’s a knockout and you’re paying
attention to how much she uses her dominant arm?” Rage shook his head
as he chuckled before taking a pull from his own beer. For some reason, the
man had been pushing me toward this girl since the second she walked into
the compound. Despite her belonging to another man. Which wasn’t like
Rage. Or anyone in Iron Tzars. Poaching on another man’s territory
wasn’t something we ever did. That being said, he was right. The woman
was a fuckin’ knockout. Long, chocolate brown hair laying down her
back in springy waves, creamy skin. She had a waif-like build and looked
like she needed a good cheeseburger, but I definitely saw her appeal.
“Besides, how do you know she’s right-handed?”

I shrugged. “When she reaches for something, she tries to use her
right arm, then stops and uses her left.” I watched as she crossed the
common room. Her smile looked forced to me and there was a set to her jaw
and a stiffness in her gait that made me think she was in pain. But that
couldn’t be right. “Are you sure they’re married? I mean,
she ain’t wearin’ a property patch. She’s supposed to be
Claw’s daughter. As the daughter of Grim Road’s vice president,
I’d have thought her daddy’d insist she wear her man’s
patch.” A property patch was as much for protection for the woman as
it was to prevent anyone from hitting on her. I couldn’t imagine Claw
would allow her to not wear her vest with the club colors on it and the
rockers telling anyone who saw her who she belonged to. Not only was she
Hammer’s, but she belonged to Grim Road MC.

“Maybe she ain’t his woman. Maybe they’re just
fuckin’.” That came from Breaker. He was an easy going member of
the Tzars, but also one of the deadliest. He’d just earned his patch
and we all knew he’d make a great addition. He’d had my back
more times than I cared to think about.

“You honestly think Claw, badass that he’s supposed to be, is
gonna let his baby girl be a club slut or even a steady lay to one of his
patched members? He’d kick the kid’s ass and ask forgiveness
from his daughter after the fact. Besides, she might be legal, but the
girl’s still in high school. I’m surprised he let her go this
far away from Grim at all, let alone without the protection of her
man’s property patch.”

I studied Scarlet intently as she spoke briefly with Winter. Roman’s
old lady had pulled her aside and was chatting with her. Scarlet looked like
she wanted to be anywhere but where she was. Lemon and Apple had mostly
stayed by her side the whole time she’d been here, but she seemed way
too uncomfortable with the whole scene. I knew Grim Road was different and
preferred not to cross family with club like some did. Hell, the Tzars
hadn’t either until a bunch of the members and officers had acquired
old ladies who were determined to take their roles seriously and help their
men in any way they could. But she still shouldn’t look this
uncomfortable. Not if she’d been raised anywhere near that MC. Scarlet
kept glancing at the door like she expected trouble, which was one more
thing odd about her.

Rage grunted. “Point taken. Which raises more than a few
questions.”

“And makes me wonder what the fuck is goin’ on.” That
last comment had been more a musing to myself than anything else. Again,
Rage grunted, his eyes narrowing at the girl in question. Apparently, he had
a few musings himself.

As if Scarlet had summoned him, Hammer walked in from where he’d no
doubt been pestering Sting and Brick. Hammer had aspirations of joining Iron
Tzars though he’d yet to give anyone a good reason why, at least none
that Sting or Brick cared to share with anyone. In fact, I wasn’t even
sure Hammer knew Sting was aware of his ties with Grim Road until he’d
spoken with Roman earlier today. It was why he and Scarlet had been invited
over tonight. So Hammer could meet with our president and vice president.
Sting and Brick would have Wylde thoroughly vet Hammer, as well as discuss
it with Rocket and Claw, the president and vice president of Grim Road. He
may or may not have told Hammer that, but it was standard practice. Which
might have something to do with Hammer’s bad mood.

“Come on, Scarlet,” he snapped. “We’re
leaving.” He glanced around the place like he was looking for someone
in particular. Then he muttered seemingly to himself, but I was pretty sure
he meant for me and Rage to hear. “Fuckin’ bastard
wouldn’t know a good member if one nailed him in the ass.”

Rage and I looked at each other. Apparently, Sting hadn’t immediately
taken him on. I could have told the asshole he wouldn’t. Being a
member of Iron Tzars wasn’t a trivial thing. We had blood on our
hands. Literally. And as long as there were people who needed killing, we
were up for the task. Also, becoming a member was a “for life”
deal. No one left the club. The only member I knew of who had was our former
president. Warlock had been accepted into Black Reign MC at the requested
demand of their president. No one said no to El Diablo if he really wanted
something.

“I’m just about finished,” Scarlet said softly.

“You’re finished,” Hammer snapped. “We’re
leaving.” He took a hold of her right upper arm and yanked her after
him. Scarlet winced and gasped in pain, but quickly covered it with a blank
expression. Instantly, both me and Rage were on our feet moving in their
direction. Breaker was hot on our heels.

“Take it easy there, hoss.” Atlas beat us to him. He had a
smile on his face, but I could see the anger inside Atlas simmering
underneath the surface. Mainly because I felt much the same way. Only I
didn’t bother to hide behind a thin veneer of civility.

“You’re hurting her.” I couldn’t stop the growl as
we advanced.

Hammer stopped and glared at us but didn’t let go of Scarlet’s
arm. He was an intimidating man, but from what I’d seen of him, he was
more bluster than action. He might talk a big talk, but he wasn’t
going to be anxious to take on me, Rage, Breaker and Atlas all together.
“She got a fuckin’ flu shot today. If she’d take some
acetaminophen and ibuprofen like I fuckin’ told her to, she
wouldn’t be sore.” He jerked Scarlet’s arm again. This
time, she schooled her features, not seeming to mind the way he manhandled
her.

“Bye, Winter. It was so wonderful to meet you.” Scarlet waved
at Roman’s woman with a smile.

“It was nice to meet you too, Scarlet. I hope you can join us this
weekend for girls’ night out.”

Scarlet glanced up at that shit, Hammer, as if his decision dictated
whether or not she go with the other old ladies. Hammer gave her a hard look
and a slight shake of his head and Scarlet’s face fell.

“I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to make it. Please
tell Lemon and Apple I’ll see them at school.” Hammer tugged her
arm again and nearly pulled Scarlet off her feet. She winced slightly but
held in her cries when I knew she was hurting. “Bye,
guys.”

Hammer didn’t slow down or give her time to catch up. Scarlet
stumbled after him and more than once I was sure she’d fall on her
face. Each time, Hammer held her up by that arm. Each time he did, she
winced in pain. I could see her jaw clench. That bastard didn’t
acknowledge she might be hurt. Rather, he shoved her onto the back of his
bike. Scarlet didn’t look the least bit steady, or able to hold on to
him. When he took off, she nearly tumbled off the back before gaining her
balance. Judging by the way he smirked back at Scarlet, Hammer had done it
on purpose.

“What the fuck was that all about?” I muttered my question, not
really expecting an answer.

“Not sure, but I think someone needs to tell Claw about this.”
Rage had an expression on his face as hard as I knew my own expression
was.

I snorted. “You gonna do it?” Yeah. I could imagine how that
conversation would work. Given that Claw was the vice president of a club
rumored to be full of black ops soldiers, his temper had the potential to
get more than a few men killed. My guess was it probably wouldn’t bode
well for the messenger.

“I’m not telling Claw.” Me and Rage still watched the
bike speeding off into the night.

“You’re afraid to tell Claw.” The barb was automatic when
I wasn’t in the teasing mood. Rage and I always threw shade at each
other. It was just how we rolled.

“Damned right I’m afraid to tell Claw. If it were just a guy
from his club mistreating a woman, I wouldn’t give a shit. But I
ain’t too chickenshit to admit I was being a coward. I tell the vice
president of Grim Road I think the man who’s fuckin’ his
daughter might be abusing her too? And we just let him roll right on out of
this fucking compound with his daughter on the back of his fuckin’
bike? Yeah. I’ll be part of any group you want to take to go after
this bastard, but no fuckin’ thanks. Get Sting to tell him. Or Brick
or Roman. Above my fuckin’ paygrade.”

“Point taken.” I moved toward my bike, climbing on and readying
to take off. “Go talk to Sting, so he can give Claw the
heads-up.”

“You goin’ after her? I’ll back you up and worry about
the other later.”

“I can’t let this go on. We’ll need more than two of us
if he’s not alone. I don’t think I’ll have a problem with
him, but he’s a big fucker. Get Roman to send me some more backup
before you follow.” I started my bike and rolled out.

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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(Hounds of Hell MC 2): A Hounds of Hell MC Romance

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: 12/15/2023

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Emily — Most wonderful time of the year? Yeah, right. Business isn’t
booming at my bakery this Christmas and I’m behind on my business loan. And
if that weren’t enough, my SUV’s transmission is dying, my ex is in town for
the holidays, and our regular Santa broke his leg and can’t make it for the
annual children’s Christmas party. Somehow, we’ve ended up with a biker
playing Santa Claus this year and I think he’s the wrong man for the job.
Santa shouldn’t have all those muscles and tattoos. And I shouldn’t be
daydreaming about sitting in Santa’s lap.

Snow — I’m not a man with a sweet tooth — at least I wasn’t until now. If
I’d known about the gorgeous little baker, I’d have snatched her up years
ago. The little lady has a lot of problems this holiday season. For her,
I’ll play Santa Claus for the kids, and her ex will wish he got a lump of
coal in his stocking when I’m done with him. Emily will have a good
Christmas. I guaran-damn-tee it.

EXCERPT

Emily

“Wait. What?” Emily Frost couldn’t have heard that right. The annual Christmas event they held in Mercy each year for the town’s children was two weeks away. “What do you mean Andy isn’t going to be able to play Santa Claus this year?”

While she listened to the elderly man’s wife explain why he wouldn’t be able to be Santa this year, Emily was fighting off hysteria. She understood that he’d taken a nasty fall and told his wife she was very sorry he’d broken his leg. Automatically, she asked if there was anything she could do. She did care. But she really wasn’t listening for a response.

What was she going to do?

Emily carried on the rest of the conversation as best she could, taking a deep breath when she ended the call.

“Fuck!” Her yell echoed through the quiet bakery.

Could things get any worse? She was blinking back tears as she finished counting the register and got all the goodies that hadn’t sold today boxed up. And there was a lot that hadn’t sold today.

The planning committee for the Christmas event was meeting tomorrow. Each member of that committee had jobs to do to make the event happen each year. Liza Austin and her husband owned a greenhouse in town. Each year they provided a beautiful wreath for the door. A live potted Christmas tree for the event was displayed in her bakery shop’s window throughout the holidays. Liza had a key to the shop to take care of the tree so it could be replanted later.

Myra Michaels handled the guest list, answering questions from parents and guardians about the event. She also handled donations that came in. Mina Dock had passed away this summer, but her granddaughter had moved back to town and was taking her place on the committee. Jade Dock and Emery Phillips oversaw setup, using folding chairs and tables Emery used at his bar, Sackett’s, for special events. They got out the decorations they used each year. Most had been donated by Jade’s grandmother Mina.

Emily had been a part of the committee since its first year, five years ago. Her job was supplying all the baked goods for the event and, with help, filling stockings with candy and treats for the kids to take home.

And she’d been the one who found their Santa Claus, Andy Wilder. Each year the elderly gentleman arrived as Santa and was just the best part of the entire event in her opinion. His warmth and sincerity made him a perfect choice. Plus, he could handle anything from kids scared of Santa, to those who were acting up and rowdy.

But he wasn’t coming this year. That was just the latest calamity this week and it was just Thursday night.

Where were they going to get another Santa Claus with two weeks to go?

Locking the door on her way out, she carried the box of goodies out to her SUV and got in. Emily crossed her fingers that the damn thing would start because it hadn’t been running right for the last several weeks. She knew her transmission was failing. What she didn’t know, since things had been so slow at the shop, was where she was getting the money to fix it.

In five minutes, she reached Mercy’s homeless shelter, delivering what she didn’t sell as she did every day the bakery was open. Heading for the back door, Emily rounded the corner and almost collided with someone.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered glancing up into gray eyes.

There were two men, both tall and wearing leather vests with their biker gang name on them, carrying a bed frame into the shelter. The one closest to the door was blond and nice-looking. The one she almost ran into? He was just as tall and muscular with a dark beard and mustache and almost entirely white locks of hair were in disarray on his head. She did a double take because hair that color didn’t usually go with a younger face. His eyes were pale gray and stunning.

The Hounds of Hell had long been a part of Mercy according to Liza, and she spoke of them fondly. Emily didn’t know much about motorcycle gangs and none of them ever came to her bakery. She really wanted to keep it that way. They were a little scary for her.

That gray-eyed gaze moved over her until the blond lost patience. “Snow, we still moving this frame?”

Snow returned his attention to the task, and someone else walked over to her.

“Emily, how are you?” Jade Dock asked. “Making your deliveries?”

Emily smiled. “I am. How are you?”

“Donating some things,” Jade said, watching the men carry the bed frame carefully through the shelter door. “At least I have some strong help to move them.”

Jade walked with her into the shelter. As she always did, Emily placed the box of treats on the receptionist’s desk just inside.

“Who’s your friend?” a deep voice behind her asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Guys, this is Emily,” Jade said, motioning to the two bikers who were apparently with her. To Emily, she said, “This is Hero and Snow.”

Emily shook hands with both, noticing the one she called Snow wasn’t too quick to release her hand. By the time he did, she noticed the blond had his arm around Jade’s waist. So they were a couple?

“I’d better get going,” Emily said. “It’s nice meeting you.”

“I’ll see you at the meeting tomorrow?” Jade called as she walked back to the SUV.

When I get to tell the committee we need another Santa Claus, and we just have two weeks to find one? Yes, wouldn’t miss it.

“I’ll see you there,” Emily said over her shoulder as she reached the door. And as she headed back to her SUV, she just hoped the damn thing would start and not embarrass her in front of the bikers.

* * *

Snow

August Crowe, Snow to his MC, watched the petite blonde rush back to her SUV, the long braid of her hair dancing behind her. She looked so perky in her soft sweater and form-hugging slacks. He’d never seen an ass like that on such an uppity girl.

“Who’s that?” Snow asked Jade as he helped Hero get the old box spring out of the truck bed.

Jade watched her drive away in her SUV before turning back to Snow. “That’s Emily Frost. She owns Whisk and Whimsy in town. It’s a bakery.”

Frost, huh? That had Snow grinning. They sounded like a matched pair.

“Say that five times really fast,” Hero said from the other side of the furniture they were moving.

Figures. She looked like someone you’d find in a bakery, making treats. If he thought she’d give him the time of day, Snow would become a bakery patron real fucking fast. But from the look she cut him, he probably wouldn’t have a lot of luck.

“What meeting is tomorrow?” Hero asked Jade, holding one end of the box spring and guiding Snow who carried the other.

“Planning committee for the annual kids’ Christmas party,” Jade explained. “It’s only two weeks away.”

Jade had mentioned it recently. Doing an event for the poor kids in Mercy sounded like a good plan to him. If Miss Uppity was in on it, she had a good heart.

“If you need help with that, let me know,” Snow said. It earned him a look from both Jade and Hero, but he meant it. There had been a few times when he’d been a kid that he and his family wouldn’t have had food if not for the kindness of others. He liked the idea of paying it forward.

“Thank you, Snow,” Jade told him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Hero shook his head as they reached the shelter door.

“What?” Snow asked. “Something wrong with wanting to help kids? Razor did say we should do some community outreach.”

“Not that,” Hero said. “The blonde. I’d forget that if I were you.”

“Why?” Jade asked. “Emily’s nice.”

“Maybe so,” Hero said. “But I’d be willing to bet someone in an MC isn’t exactly her type.”

“I might have said the same thing once,” Jade didn’t look convinced. “You can’t assume things like that.”

She had a point.

“So the party is for any kid in Mercy?” Snow asked as they maneuvered the box spring through the shelter door.

Jade followed them. “Technically. We have to leave it open for anyone to avoid singling people out, you know? The ones who really need help.”

“Good approach,” Snow said.

“I’m told each year we have a tree and decorations. There’s an older man who comes to play Santa Claus. There are treats for everyone and everyone gets a gift from Santa. We identify the kids who really need help and they get different gifts than the ones we give the other kids that show up.”

“Makes sense,” Snow said. “What do the poor kids get?”

“The smaller ones get a toy, some candy, and a gift card this year,” Jade explained. “The older kids get candy and a bigger gift card. Santa tells them they can’t open their presents until Christmas Eve. Liza said most of the time that works.”

It was thoughtful.

They set the box spring down, heading back out for the mattress.

“Offer stands,” Snow said to Jade. “Let me know if I can help. Even if it’s just setup.”

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.

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

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A Dixie Reapers Bad Boys Romance

Hades Abyss MC, Book 11

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: November 24, 2023

Nari – Pain. Humiliation. Those are the things my father taught me,
and every man I’ve met since. Running away from home didn’t fix
anything. Now I’m nineteen and back in the town my family calls home.
I haven’t told them I’m here, and I don’t plan to. But I
also didn’t count on a biker giving me a ride, and leaving me at the
Hades Abyss compound. They say they’ll help me, but can I trust them?
What if they’re just as bad as all the others?

Iron –I’m no stranger to the darker side of life. Sometimes
I’m the monster lurking in the shadows. Still, there’s a line I
won’t cross. I will never harm an innocent woman or child. The moment
I saw the tiny Asian woman cowering in front of Titan, I wanted to protect
her from the world. She’s been beaten, yet she’s not broken.
I’ve never met anyone like Nari before. Despite how timid she appears,
she’s stronger than she realizes. I know I’ll do whatever it
takes to make her smile and keep her safe, even if it means getting blood on
my hands. The moment her family tries to take her from me, I’ll show
them what it means for Nari to be mine.

WARNING: Iron is intended for readers 18+ due to bad language, violence,
and adult situations. There’s no cheating, no cliffhanger, and a
guaranteed happily ever after.

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2023 Harley Wylde

Nari

My cheek pressed into the carpet as Gio held me down. I knew I’d be
covered in bruises within the hour, if I wasn’t already. Nothing new.
It seemed all I had to do was breathe in order to piss him off. I’d
only stayed due to a lack of options. Leaving Gio would only mean taking a
chance on someone else. Men didn’t help runaway teens for nothing.
They either made us drug mules, thieves, or prostitutes. I couldn’t
think of a way to escape. Everyone I’d ever trusted had betrayed me.
Why should that change?

If things had been different, if my family had cared even a little, I never
would have run away. Living at home had been awful, but my life on the
streets was far worse.

“You stupid, worthless cunt! Where’s my money?” he asked
for the fifth time. As if my answer was suddenly going to change.

“I told you I don’t have it. I couldn’t find any work
today, Gio.” Or more accurately, I hadn’t found a mark. Stealing
was my forte.

He leaned in closer. “Then you have a choice, Nari. You can pay the
money by spending a few nights at the house on Spruce, or you find a high
paying job before morning. Which is it going to be?”

I swallowed hard. It wasn’t really a choice at all. I refused to go
near drugs, and I really didn’t want to be a whore. I couldn’t
understand the girls and women who chose that path. I didn’t look down
on them for it, but it wasn’t something I’d ever voluntarily do.
Of course, if I wanted a legal job, there was always the strip club. Except
I hadn’t really been blessed in the curves department. I didn’t
even need a bra. Who the hell would pay to watch me take my clothes off?
Now, letting him use me as a whore in his brothel? That was a different
story. Those men didn’t much care what a woman looked like, and I knew
he wouldn’t be sending his top customers my way. All they wanted was a
living woman to fuck, although it wouldn’t surprise me if some
didn’t even care if I was alive when they fucked me. I’d learned
the hard way just how screwed up people could be.

“I’ll find a job,” I said. “Please, Gio. I really
tried.”

He finally released me and stood. “Fine. By sunrise, you better have
something lined up. If not, don’t bother coming home. You either take
your ass over to Spruce, or you better run.”

As if running would do me any good. He’d track me down and things
would be even worse. But I had to try. I refused to go down without a fight,
or at the very least a last-ditch effort. If only I’d known I was
heading this direction the moment I walked out of my dad’s house. Not
once had I seen my picture on the news or in any papers. He’d never
bothered to search for me. Why would he when he had his precious Joon?

Maybe I could go home. Or at least back to my hometown. I didn’t
think Gio would ever think to look for me there. He knew how much I hated
that place, and the hell I’d been through while I lived at home. Yeah.
I should go back. I didn’t bring in enough money for him to chase me
across state lines.

I waited until Gio left, then packed a small backpack. It wasn’t like
I owned much anyway. Grabbing the little bit of cash I’d managed to
hide, I shoved it into my satchel and left the house for the last time. One
way or another, I was leaving this place behind. I didn’t care if I
had to hitchhike all the way back to Mississippi.

Every step made pain explode through my body. I stopped to put on my hoodie
and made sure my face was mostly covered. I didn’t need anyone seeing
the marks on my body and stopping to ask questions. A rumble of a motorcycle
came up behind me and slowed. I quickly glanced toward the street and
realized the man was eyeing me.

I assessed his overall size and wondered if I could outrun him. Men
prowling the streets for women always spelled trouble.

“Do you need a ride somewhere?” he asked.

I took in every detail of his appearance, from his Native American genes to
the leather cut declaring him part of the Reckless Kings MC. I hadn’t
heard of them, but there was a group of bikers in my hometown. They’d
been a little scary, but I’d never heard of them hurting kids or
anything. Was his club the same? Just because he looked rough and little
scary didn’t mean he was a bad guy. Sometimes, the ones who looked
like wholesome decent men were the most vicious.

He sighed and inched the bike closer. “Look. My name is Crow.
I’m not going to hurt you, but it looks like you’re in some
trouble and trying to get out of here. So you can get on the back of my bike
and I’ll take you as far as I can. Or you can keep walking and hope
whoever you’re running from doesn’t catch up. With the way
you’re moving, I’m going to assume someone beat the hell out of
you.”

I winced. He noticed that? “I’m going to
Mississippi.”

“What part?” he asked.

“Ever heard of a club called the Hades Abyss? I’m going to that
town,” I said.

He nodded. “I know them. Get on and I’ll make sure you get
home. It’s a little out of my way, but it’s fine.”

Without another thought, I climbed on behind him and put my arms around his
waist. It wasn’t my first time on a motorcycle, even if it had been
years ago. It also wasn’t the first time I’d put my trust in a
stranger. He’d either keep me safe, or I’d trade one abusive
asshole for another.

“I’m Nari,” I said. “Thanks for the
ride.”

“Sure thing, kid. Hold on tight.” He twisted the throttle ,
revving the engine, then eased the bike forward. As he picked up speed and
shifted gears, the wind whipped the hood off my head. I closed my eyes and
pressed my forehead to his back. For the first time in forever, I felt
free.

I didn’t know if I’d made the right choice, but there was no
going back now.

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’s Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook: @harleywylde

Author on Twitter: @HarleyW_Writer

Publisher on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram: @changelingpress

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(Bones MC 14): A Bones MC Romance

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: November 10, 2023

Ice — The second to last thing I expected when Cain called Church was for
him to resign as president of Bones. The last thing I expected was to be
voted in as president myself. So when I found myself on a rescue mission for
the daughter of the Devil himself? Well. I wasn’t surprised at all.
What did surprise me was the woman herself. Sure, I’d met her on more
than one occasion, but the teenage girl I’d seen a couple of years
before is definitely not the woman I pull out of the rushing water when she
gets stranded in the middle of a hurricane.

Dawn — Coming home during a hurricane isn’t one of the smartest
things I’ve ever done. Neither is getting mixed up with the man who
was the reason for me taking such a risk. So when I’m stranded with
water overtaking my car, I thought I’d finally tempted fate for the
last time. Until my guardian angel plucks me from the water and saves me. In
more ways than one. He’s the new president of Bones MC and a man I
can’t deny I want with every fiber of my being.

WARNING: Ice features a protective hero, a determined heroine and includes
graphic violence and adult situations that may be triggers for some readers.
Eventual happy ending and no cheating, as always.

Excerpt

Marteeka Karland

All rights reserved

Copyright ©2023 Marteeka Karland

“Dawn!” The man had to raise his voice over the wind though we
weren’t to the point where he had to yell. Yet. “We need to get
back to my ride.” I looked up at the man who held my arm in a firm but
gentle grip. He was gruff and insistent, and I thought I recognized
him.

“Cliff?”

“Yeah. They call me Ice now. I’m takin’ you back to the
Salvation’s Bane clubhouse. Are you injured?”

I shook my head. “No. Just wet. I’m sorry I left the
car.”

“The storm surge is starting. With high tide coming, the
water’s gonna rise fast. You didn’t have a choice.” He
took off his rain jacket and put it around me, helping me thread my arms
through it before zipping it up and pulling the hood over my head. He
tightened down the laces so the wind wouldn’t immediately blow it
off.

“We’ve got to go three blocks that way.” He pointed in
the direction he wanted to take me. “All you have to do is stay on
your feet and keep your head down. Can you do that for me?” Looking up
into his face, I nodded. “Good. Let’s go.”

Ice had a firm grip on my hand as he led the way. We moved quickly through
the flooded streets, the water now up to our knees and rising fast. The wind
was howling around us. Even though he’d tightened it almost
uncomfortably, my hood didn’t last two seconds once we were out of the
relative shelter of the doorway. My hair whipped into my face, making it
almost impossible to see where we were going. But Ice was a strong presence
beside me, guiding me through the chaos with a steady hand and a sure sense
of direction. Every so often, he would lean in close to my ear to be heard
over the wind, giving me a few words of encouragement or advice.

“Keep your head down, Dawn! We’re almost there!”

I nodded, gritting my teeth against the driving rain and pushing on through
the water. My legs were aching with my effort and my clothes were soaked
through, but I refused to give up. I trusted in Ice and his ability to get
us both to safety because my dad trusted him. No one failed my dad. Not if
they wanted to live.

Finally, after what felt like hours of trudging through the water, we
reached a parking garage. Ice took me up one level to the second floor. It
was low to the ground but up high enough to keep us out of the water. I
hoped.

He led me to the Bronco I’d been expecting and opened the back.
“I’ve got some dry clothes and food. Might be too big for you
but you’ll be warm and dry.”

Exhausted, I slumped against the vehicle, breathing hard. Once we’d
made it to the parking garage, the going had been much easier, but the wind
still howled through the structure and I was spent.

Ice opened the back of the truck. The tailgate swung out and he urged me
behind it. He stood on the other side and turned his back, effectively
guarding the open side from prying eyes. Surprisingly, the place seemed
deserted. I’d have thought there would be other people taking shelter,
but the town was small. Maybe they got everyone evacuated or to an actual
shelter before the storm started.

He turned his head to the side, not looking at me, but like he was trying
to see if I was moving. I wasn’t.

“You good?”

“I-I d-don’t know.”

Carefully, Ice turned farther until he saw I was still dressed, then he
turned all the way and stepped closer to me. “You’re safe, Dawn.
I swear I’ll keep you safe. I’ll protect you with my
life.” Intense, dark eyes bore into my own. He was so tall and big, he
loomed over me. I should have been intimidated but I wasn’t.

It was in that moment I realized why my dad trusted Ice so much. He was
capable, strong, and fiercely loyal. He was also my calm in the middle of
this storm. Literally. I also knew that like Cain and El Diablo, Ice was
every bit as capable and sure of himself as they were. As I looked up at
him, I saw a flicker of something in his gaze that made my heart race.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse from the wind and the
rain.

Ice’s hand found my chin, tilting my face up to his. “Trust me
to see you through this. Yes?” I nodded. “Good. Get some dry
clothes on. I’ve got your back.”

As I looked up into his face, one strangled sob escaped me. I thought he
might look disgruntled or annoyed. Instead, Ice’s eyes got big and he
rocked backward like he was going to step away from me. Then he shook his
head and reached for me.

“Come here, honey.”

Having Ice pull me into his arms was the very last thing I expected. He
surrounded me with his big frame, those strong arms holding me tightly when
I felt like I was going to fragment into a million pieces.

I wanted to break down. Wanted to let the fear wash through me so I could
cleanse myself of it. Get it out of my system. But this was only the
beginning. I knew the worst was yet to come, and that was assuming we could
get out of this stupid parking garage and to the Salvation’s Bane
clubhouse.

“Take some deep breaths for me.” His gruff voice was oddly
soothing. His arms around me kept me grounded when I knew I was so in over
my head — literally — there was no way I could fight this on my own. I
could feel the heavy muscles of his chest where I had my cheek on his wet
shirt. The water was hot from the heat of his skin and as he rubbed one hand
gently up and down my back, the tension lessened inside me somewhat.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. This is a pretty scary situation.”

Strangely, I felt a laugh bubble up in my throat. “You can say that
again.”

He grunted, holding me a few seconds longer before pulling back. “You
can do this, Dawn. Get some dry clothes on and I’ll do the same. Then
we’ll check in with Thorn and Ripper. They’re keeping an eye on
the weather minute by minute.”

“I think Shotgun is too.”

“I’m sure he is. Likely, he and Ripper are in constant contact,
conferring with each other and figuring out the best course of action for
us. They’ll get me the most accurate information they can, and
I’ll decide what we do next.”

Again, I nodded. “OK.” I took another breath. “OK. I can
do this.”

He nodded sharply at me. “Of course, you can. You’re El
Diablo’s daughter.” He raised his chin looking proud. Of me?
Then he turned his back so I could have some privacy.

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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