BOOK REVIEW: Stunner (Bones MC) by Marteeka Karland #ContemporaryRomance #bookreview @marteekakarland

Suzie — I’m the youngest grad student at MIT, and to say other students resent me for it is an understatement. To top it all off, I miss my Stunner. He’s been with me through the darkest moments of my life, helping me pull myself back together. He’s seen me at my worst — I want him to see me at my best. If he’d just return my calls, I might be able to get myself around the mean girls (and boys) at school.

Stunner — To say I’ve got skeletons in my closet is the understatement of the century. Suzie deserves a man more suited to her station than me, and she definitely deserves a man who’s not a stone-cold killer. I have my uses. Protecting her body, heart, and soul is one of those. I just never expected to fall for the woman after the girl grew up.

Now not only has she run into a foul and vindictive bastard, my past has caught up to me, and there may be no way to keep from being swept back up into the madness. All I truly know is I won’t let any of it touch Suzie — even if it means giving her up. Forever.

WARNING: Explicit violence which could be triggers for some readers. Explicit sex that might offend some readers. As always, you can expect a HEA with no cheating.

Available Now at Changeling Press

Preorder at Retailers for September 25th

MY REVIEW

5 – stars!

This isn’t the first book I’ve read in this series, but I think if you’re new to Bones (or Ms. Karland), you can easily read this story without having picked up all the others first. She did a great job of introducing characters in a way that makes it easy for someone to jump in mid-series without feeling lost.

If you enjoy an age-gap romance, this one is a must! Stunner is both gruff and sweet. The story isn’t lacking in heat, nor suspense. While it isn’t as gritty and raw as a lot of MC romances, it still landed firmly on my “want to read again” list. The violence “on screen” is extremely light, although there is talk of what happens to some of the characteres, as well as hinting at what Suzie has suffered in the past.

I loved the relationship between Suzie and Stunner. Seeing his softer side when it came to her, and how hard he tried to be what she needed, made my heart melt. It’s an emotional, page-turning ride that you shouldn’t pass up!

*Disclaimer: I received an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review. The review above is merely my opinion.

PREORDER: Ulrich (Elementals CT MC) by Alexi Ferreira #ParanormalRomance @alexi_writer

ULRICH (book 1): Elemental’s CT MC

UNIVERSAL PRE-ORDER LINK:
https://books2read.com/ULRIC

Add to your TBR: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54480040-ulrich-book-1

ULRIC
I wait, and I hang on for years hoping that my mate would come and calm this fury and pain that I carry around, but no, my woman had to be a tease, and instead of calming she has me revved up ready to tear anyone apart that looks at her.
She says that if I want her, I will have to show her that I deserve her.
How the hell do I do that? I’m not the flower and poem type.
ANASTASIA
He thinks that just because he belongs to a badass motorcycle club and is as handsome as sin I would just leave and follow him like a puppy.
Well, he will have to show me that what he says is true, actions talk louder than words and the only actions he has been showing me is of a possessive caveman.

About Alexi Ferreira

Alexi Ferreira, loves the idea of Alpha Men who take charge are possessive and care for their woman.She creates books that take you on an emotional journey whether tears, laughter or just steamy hotness.She loves to connect with readers and interacting with them through social media or even old-fashioned email.She currently lives in Lincoln, United Kingdom.

Join her newsletter to stay up to date as well as take part in giveaways and just let her know how you feel about her books!

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Spotlight: Demon (Devil’s Fury MC) by Harley Wylde #MCromance #AgeGap @HarleyW_Writer

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

Farrah — I’ve spent my entire life at the Dixie Reapers MC compound — one of the perks of being the VP’s daughter. Except it’s suffocating. Leaving to start a life of my own was the only solution. I knew what it would mean if I went to the Devil’s Fury MC compound, even more so to flirt with their Sergeant-at-Arms. Getting involved would ruin the little bit of freedom I’ve found. Then I ended up in the man’s bed. Leave it to me to find trouble around every corner. My daddy is going to be so pissed, especially when I run from Demon, get snatched off the streets, and shoved into a trunk. I’m not winning at the adulting thing.

Demon — She was a one-night stand. Until the condom broke. Then I found out she’d lied to me. The hot little number in my bed wasn’t just any woman, she was the daughter of a Dixie Reaper. Maybe I shouldn’t have barked orders at her, or spanked her. Feisty little Farrah ran, pissing me off even more. When she disappeared and I realized trouble had found her, I knew I’d do whatever it took to make sure she was safe. Only after I had her back did I realize she was f**king perfect for me. Watching her handle the club wh*res was hot as hell, and she didn’t take sh*t off anyone.

I’ll make her mine — permanently.

WARNING: Demon’s book contains graphic violence and sex, bondage, spanking, bad language, and scenes that may be difficult for some readers. But it also has a heroic dog and a man who will move heaven and earth to protect the feisty, smart-mouthed woman he loves. There’s no cliffhanger and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.

Preorder for September 11th at…

Amazon | Apple Books | Kobo | Barnes & Noble 

 available September 4th at Changeling Press

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.Copyright ©2020 Harley Wylde

The music blasting from the speakers in the ceiling pounded against my skull like a sledgehammer. Maybe I was getting too old for this shit. Forty-three didn’t sound ancient until I got around the younger generation at the clubhouse. Partying had lost its appeal over the last few years. Watching my brothers settle down had caused a strange twinge in my chest, an ache I absently rubbed. I hadn’t been serious about a woman in a while. I’d thought one of the little señoritas staying at the compound could be something special, but it hadn’t worked out. She’d since moved on, along with the others. Except the younger ones.

Glancing around the room, it seemed far emptier than before. Even the Pres wasn’t here tonight. Now he had three little chicks under his roof and had turned into a ferocious papa bear. I hadn’t seen him walk off with any of the club whores, ever, but at least he’d come to drink and hang with the brothers. Since those girls came to stay here, we’d seen less and less of him on nights like this. Couldn’t blame him.

Starla, one of the newer club whores, sashayed over. Her red lips were slicked to a high shine and her eyes had been rimmed in black. There’d been a time I might have been tempted by the sway of her hips, the come-hither look on her face. Now she just came across as desperate. She moved closer, her perfume nearly suffocating me, as she trailed her nails up my arm and across my shoulder.

“Looks like you could use some company,” she said, settling on my lap.

Part of me wanted to shove her off, but all she’d done was make my headache worse. No harm in letting her sit for a minute. Her hand grazed my chest and headed for my zipper. I closed my fingers around her wrist, halting her progress.

“Not tonight,” I said. Or any night.

Her lip stuck out in what she probably thought was a sexy pout. It didn’t do a damn thing for me. When I released her, I gave her a nudge off my lap until she stood next to me. As the Sergeant-at-Arms, and single, the club whores tended to flock my way, in hopes I’d claim them as my old lady. Never would happen, but it didn’t stop them from trying.

The doors to the clubhouse swung open and a curvy blonde stepped through. No, not stepped. She sauntered into the room, head high, shoulders back, and gazed at her surroundings as if she owned the place. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lower lip and my cock hardened behind my zipper. A quick sweep of the room told me I wasn’t the only one checking her out, but I’d damn sure be the one balls-deep in her later.

I stood and made my way across the room, my prey in my sights. Stopping close enough I could feel the heat of her body, I waited for her to acknowledge me. When she ignored me, it only made me want her more. Reaching out, I tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze.

“You lost, little girl?” I asked, realizing she was far younger than I’d thought. No way she’d gotten past the Prospect at the gate if she wasn’t at least eighteen, but she was still young enough to be my daughter. No fucking way she was a day over twenty-five, if that.

“No, I’m not lost. You’re in my way.”

Oh, I liked the sass on this one. I smiled and placed my hand at her waist, tugging her closer. “Your way? Did you get a good look when you came in? Pretty little things like you only have one place in this clubhouse. On your knees or bent over a table.”

A flush worked its way up her neck and settled in her cheeks. Her eyes darkened and her pulse fluttered. Seemed she liked the idea. The way her dress hugged her body, it left little to the imagination, but I still would prefer to have her naked and spread out so I could feast on her. Only one problem. I didn’t have a room at the clubhouse anymore and I didn’t take random women back to my house.

“Maybe this isn’t my first time seeing this sort of thing,” she said. “You may not have seen me here before, but it doesn’t mean I’m stupid when it comes to bikers. I know more than you think.”

I stepped back and scanned her. “No property cut. No ink claiming you as an old lady. You making the rounds? Whatever club you came from, I promise to treat you better.”

“Full of yourself, aren’t you?” she asked, but I noticed she leaned a little closer.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re the one who’s gonna be full of me.”

About Harley Wylde

Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.

When Harley’s 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. 

Find her online: Website | Twitter | Facebook

BOOK REVIEW: Thorn (Salvation’s Bane MC) by Marteeka Karland #ContemporaryRomance #RomanticSuspense @MarteekaKarland

About the book

Mariana — If it weren’t for bad luck… Yeah. That’s me. I found myself stranded on the side of the road after my boyfriend threw me out. My mother, bless her heart, thinks I’m dragging her to the pits of hell because I got myself knocked up.

All of which I could deal with. What nearly put me in a panic was the big, muscle-bound, tattooed biker who pulled up behind me, ordering me to “pop the hood.” I was scared, but, God, the man was smoking hot! Had I not been hot, tired, and pregnant, I might have gotten on my knees and begged him to take me. Instead, I kept that part of myself tightly under control. Sort of.

Thorn — Ana isn’t like anyone I’ve ever come across. If there’s a woman in this world who needs pampering, it’s her. She’s half starved, on the verge of heat stroke, and I steamrolled my way into her life.

But I wasn’t prepared for the call I got from the hospital or the sight of her broken body. I’m all about vengeance, and someone is going to pay for this. Dearly. And my little Ana is going to have to learn to take on a man like me. Because somewhere around the very first time I saw her, I might have gone and fallen in love with her.

WARNING (Spoiler Alert): Traumatic pregnancy loss and explicit violence which could be triggers for some readers. As always, you can expect a HEA with no cheating.

Buy a copy from Changeling Press

My review…

5 stars

Do you love an alpha hero with a soft heart when it comes to his woman? Want a heroine who ends up being stronger than she realized? Then look no further!

Thorn is the third installment in the Salvation’s Bane MC series and it will keep you hungering for more. Not only is our hero a complete badass who will do anything it takes to protect those he loves, but he knows when to stand aside and let his woman handle matters herself. Thorn and Marianna were perfect for one another.

Be warned, there are scenes of abuse that could trigger some readers, but it wouldn’t be an MC book without those! They aren’t over the top by any means. I think the author gave us just the right amount of violence mixed with hot sex and a dirty-talking biker.

Five stars. Two thumbs up. Bring on book 4!

*Disclaimer: I received an ARC of this title in exchange for an honest review.

Renegade/Wire (Dixie Reapers MC) by Harley Wylde #ContemporaryRomance #AgeGap @HarleyW_Writer

Renegade (Devil’s Boneyard MC 6)

Darby: At fifteen, I thought I knew everything. But life hadn’t prepared me for a biker who would kidnap me and abuse me for five years. Being tossed in a dumpster and left to die wasn’t at the top of my list for ways out of that life, but then Renegade found me. I want to trust him, but to give him my heart only to have him turn out like every other man I’ve ever known would break me.

Renegade: I lost my family a long time ago, and I vowed I’d never have another. Then I found Fawn and her mother, Darby, thrown away like so much trash. Hearing their story is enough to make my blood boil. But once I exact revenge for all they’ve suffered, I might not want to let them go.

Wire (Dixie Reapers MC 13)

Lavender: My parents weren’t the type to win any awards, but I did learn a few things — like how to read code and get through the backdoor of pretty much any program. When my parents end up dead, I can’t think of anyone else who might be able to help me. I know too much, and now I’ve been targeted. If the infamous Voodoo Tracer can’t help me, then I’m screwed.

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 is exactly what I want and don’t need — a nerdy, geeky, superintelligent woman who craves me as much as I crave her. Now she’s mine, and if an enemy from my past thinks he can hurt her, I’d like to see him try. I will destroy anyone who tries to take her from me.

WARNING: Lavender and Darby’s stories contain abusive pasts that may be triggers for some readers.

 

Get the paperback at Amazon

 

 

Praise for Renegade (Devil’s Boneyard MC 6)

“This book hooked me from the get go — I just couldn’t put it down. I fell in love with these characters and OMG what a story, just a perfect read.”

— 5 Stars from Jeanne, Amazon Review

“I adored Renegade. If there were more like him this world would be a better place. Darby being who she is turned out to not be anything but a strong amazing woman and mother. It answers every question that is presented throughout the story that you have and it doesn’t leave you hanging. Harley wrote these characters with love and made you want to root for them. This series is worth the read!”

— 5 Stars from Elsie, Amazon Review

Praise for Wire (Dixie Reapers MC 13)

“I really enjoyed Wire. I love how revved he gets Lavender and he isn’t even trying.  I love that Lavender revs him up just as much… I thoroughly enjoyed this quick read from Ms. Wylde.  It is full of unexpected twists and turns.  I enjoyed seeing how Ms. Wylde worked her relationship magic.”

— 5 Shooting Stars from Luna, Redz World Reviews

“I loved this pair. There couldn’t have been a better partner for Wire. This is a fun, fiery, sexy… story that will give you a whole range of emotions.”

— 4 Stars from Sorrel, Long and Short Reviews

 

SNEAK PEEK

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Harley Wylde
Excerpt from Renegade

I fucking hated this time of year. The pumpkins and shit didn’t bother me, it was more the memories attached to the month of October that got to me. Today especially. My parents and brother had been gone for fourteen years but time didn’t make the pain lessen any, which was why I was at the liquor store restocking my beer, rum, and picking up a bottle of vodka. Time didn’t heal all wounds, but at least alcohol would numb me enough to make it through to tomorrow. I knew my sister, Nikki, still had trouble with this day as well, but she’d suffer on her own or with friends. I didn’t see her as often as I’d like, but I tried to keep her away from the club. She garnered too much interest when she came around, and I didn’t want to beat on my brothers.

I set the items on the counter and the woman popped her gum and held out her hand. I took out my wallet and pulled out a few twenties, but she shook her head.

“ID.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I demanded. “I’m forty-four years old and I don’t look old enough to buy this shit?”

“Sorry. I don’t make the rules.” She pointed to the sign behind her. We have the right to refuse service for any reason. ID will be required for all purchases.

I growled as I jerked my license from my wallet and threw it on the counter. The last thing I needed right now was someone hassling me over my purchase. It wasn’t the first time I’d been carded and wouldn’t be the last, I just wasn’t in the mood to deal with it right now. While it was the law to card everyone, I’d noticed none of my brothers who actually looked their age ever dealt with this shit.

The woman looked at the ID, scratched at the surface, and gave me one of those disbelieving looks.

“It’s not a fake,” I said. “Who the fuck fakes the age of forty-four?”

My mother had once said that there would come a time I would like looking younger than my actual years. So far, that hadn’t proven true. It was fucking annoying.

She handed the license back and took my money, then rang up the alcohol. By the time I was walking out of the store, I was livid, but I knew it wasn’t really the woman’s fault. She’d been doing her job and not intentionally hassling me. It was just this shitty day. I’d brought my truck, knowing what I wanted to buy wouldn’t fit in the saddlebags on my bike, and stashed the rum, vodka and two cases of beer in the back seat, then pulled a can from one of the boxes. Before I could pop the top, a sound drew my attention. A scuff or scratching noise. I set the beer down and slowly crept toward the side of the building, pausing at the corner. Might just be a stray scrounging for food, or it could be trouble. A liquor store at night had a tendency to draw in the bad elements. Wouldn’t be the first time the place had been robbed, or someone had been held up in the parking lot.

There was a shuffle and something kicked a can. Dog? I listened harder and heard what sounded like a human’s footsteps. I reached for the gun at the small of my back, pulling it before I edged around the building, my finger on the trigger guard of my Sig. Very little light pierced the darkness, but I saw a small shadow moving. It wasn’t very big. I didn’t know if I was about to be ambushed by someone trying to hide themselves, or if there was actually someone in need of help. Moving in closer, my heart nearly stopped when I saw the dirty face of a little girl. Long, red hair hung in a tangle down her back, and I noticed her feet were bare. A quick glance didn’t show anyone else in the area, but I was hesitant to put away my weapon. Wouldn’t be the first time some asshole used a kid to lure in a victim.

“Is your mom or dad here?” I asked, trying to keep my tone as non-threatening as possible.

The little girl pointed to the dumpster and began walking that way. She stopped in front of it and lifted a hand to the opening on top. I braced myself in case someone leapt from inside to attack, but as I neared the metal container and peered inside, my breath stalled in my lungs. Holy shit!

“That your sister?” I asked the girl.

She shook her head.

“Your momma?” I asked again, barely believing the woman who was likely dead was old enough to be a mother. Then again, maybe she just aged really well. At first glance, I’d thought she was maybe sixteen or seventeen. Wouldn’t be the first time a kid had given birth, if she really was as young as she appeared, but I hoped that wasn’t the case. Kids should have a chance to be exactly that — kids.

The little girl nodded.

“All right. I’m going to put my gun away and I’m going to get your mom out of there. Can you step back so you don’t get hurt?”

She stared at me a moment before shuffling back a step, then another. It was eerie that she hadn’t said a word, but at least she’d obeyed. I climbed the side of the container and reached inside, pressing my fingers against the pulse point in the woman’s throat. I exhaled sharply when I realized she was still alive, and carefully extracted her. She shivered in my arms, her body barely covered except for the dried blood and bruises coating her skin. Her clothes were cut or ripped, exposing enough of her that I worried what might have happened to her. I hoped whatever asshole had done this to her would suffer.

“I’m going to get your mom some help. Can you follow me to my truck?” I asked the little girl.

She slowly approached and reached out to grip my jeans. She held on as I carried her mother to the front parking lot. The door to my truck was still ajar. If it weren’t for the club’s colors I’d added to my tailgate, someone likely would have boosted it. Most people around here didn’t want to fuck with the club and gave us a wide berth.

I balanced the woman as I shoved the alcohol to the floor, not even caring at this point if the damn vodka and rum busted other than the fumes it would create. Whatever these two had been through was far worse than the demons I fought on this day every year.

“Get in. I’m going to buckle your mom up front,” I told the little girl.

She had trouble getting into the truck, so I opened the front door and made sure her mom was secure before lifting the tiny girl into the vehicle. I didn’t know a lot about kids, but she felt a little too light and fragile. I made sure she was buckled, then hurried to the driver’s side. As the dome light came on, I glanced at my front seat passenger and nearly froze. There was something familiar about her. Too fucking familiar, even though I couldn’t remember where I’d seen her. It would come to me, but right now I needed to get her somewhere safe.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Scratch as I started the engine.

“Need your help, Pres,” I said as I pulled out onto the street, not giving a shit that I was driving while I was on the phone.

“The kind that requires bail money?” he asked, knowing the significance of today.

“No. The kind that requires your wife and a doctor. Found a woman beat to hell and left for dead in a dumpster, and her kid, though the kid seems to be in better shape. I’m on my way to the compound now.” I paused a moment. “I think I know the mom, but I can’t remember how.”

Scratch cursed. “Take her to your place. The clubhouse is too rowdy for a kid right now. I’ll have Chansy head that way.”

 

About the Author

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!
Stalk the author online at…

Thorn (Salvation’s Bane) by Marteeka Karland #ContemporaryRomance @MarteekaKarland

Mariana — If it weren’t for bad luck… Yeah. That’s me. I found myself stranded on the side of the road after my boyfriend threw me out. My mother, bless her heart, thinks I’m dragging her to the pits of hell because I got myself knocked up.

All of which I could deal with. What nearly put me in a panic was the big, muscle-bound, tattooed biker who pulled up behind me, ordering me to “pop the hood.” I was scared, but, God, the man was smoking hot! Had I not been hot, tired, and pregnant, I might have gotten on my knees and begged him to take me. Instead, I kept that part of myself tightly under control. Sort of.

Thorn — Ana isn’t like anyone I’ve ever come across. If there’s a woman in this world who needs pampering, it’s her. She’s half starved, on the verge of heat stroke, and I steamrolled my way into her life.

But I wasn’t prepared for the call I got from the hospital or the sight of her broken body. I’m all about vengeance, and someone is going to pay for this. Dearly. And my little Ana is going to have to learn to take on a man like me. Because somewhere around the very first time I saw her, I might have gone and fallen in love with her.

WARNING (Spoiler Alert): Traumatic pregnancy loss and explicit violence which could be triggers for some readers. As always, you can expect a HEA with no cheating.

Get it Today at Changeling Press

SNEAK PEEK

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Marteeka Karland

“Mom?”

“I have no daughter. Who is this?”

Great. This wasn’t going to go well. Still, Mariana plowed on. “I’m in trouble and I need help. My car broke down and I’m stranded.”

“If I had a daughter, I’d tell her she should call the bum who got her pregnant in the first place. If she thought so much of him as to throw away her only family, it should have been her first call.”

“He broke up with me, Mom. I did call him, but he won’t help me.” No way she was telling her mother he was with someone else. That would be too humiliating. As she spoke with her mother, she heard the rumble of a motorcycle in the distance. Sure enough, one rounded the curve the way she’d come and, to her surprise, seemed to be slowing. Her heart sped up. This could be bad. Really bad.

“Well, perhaps you should have chosen a better man. I’m sorry. But I can’t help you.”

“Mom! Please!” As she continued to speak, the bike pulled behind her car, and the man riding it shut the thing down. He pulled off his helmet and Mariana’s breath caught. This had to be the scariest man she’d ever seen. Full beard, tattoos creeping up his neck. Piercing blue eyes. The harshest scowl she’d ever seen on a human being. “I just need someone to pick me up. I’ll figure out how to rent a car on my own. Just, please don’t leave me here!” No doubt the man could hear the conversation once the bike was off. She stood now. Readying herself to run for it. “Mom, there’s a man who pulled up behind me on a bike. I need help!”

“Perhaps you should have thought about that when you took up with the first unsavory young man you met and got yourself pregnant out of wedlock. Once you do that, men like him can smell you out. I’m sorry. But, like I said, I have no daughter anymore. She’s dead.” The line disconnected.

Mariana let out a sob, putting the back of her hand to her mouth in an effort to contain her hysteria. “Don’t come any closer!” She needed to call 911 but was so scared the signal couldn’t get from her brain to her fingers.

“Calm the fuck down, will ya?” The man strode past her to the front of the car. He reached in through the open window and popped the hood latch. Moving to the front of the car to examine under the hood, he asked, “What’s it doin’?”

Mariana stayed on the other side of the car, clutching her phone, afraid to say or do much. When she didn’t answer he stopped looking at the car and turned his gaze on her. “Well?” He barked the question sharply, as if she were wasting his time.

“I-it turns over, but won’t start.”

“Got gas?”

“Yes. Uh, h-half a tank.”

He pulled something out of the guts of the car, looked at it, then put it back and shut the hood. “Your ignition module’s fucked.”

She waited for more. When none was forthcoming she asked, “What does that mean?”

“Means you’re not getting fire to your spark plugs, which means your car won’t start. You got someone comin’ to help you?”

“Sure,” she squeaked, but he just gave her a look. “That is, uh, I will. I-I just gotta call, uh, my, uh, ex-boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend, huh?”

“Yes. I’m sure he’ll help me out.”

The guy waved at her phone. “Call him. Not leavin’ ’til I know someone’s comin’ for ya.” He put his hands on his hips, his feet planted shoulder-width apart.

This was a no-win situation. If she called Jason, he’d make her beg. It was likely what he was waiting for, because that’s what he did. Denied her something she desperately needed until she groveled enough to satisfy him. Once was never enough. It usually took three or four tries before he actually did what she needed. Always, there was a steep price to pay. Besides all the begging, that was. Anything she said to Jason, she’d have to say in front of this guy. If she refused, or if he decided not to help her, this guy would know. Then what would he do? What would she do?

She studied him and found nothing yielding about him. He was made of steel, as far as she could tell. He’d do exactly what he said he’d do. If that meant he didn’t leave until she had someone coming to help her, then he’d stay.

About the Author

Erotic romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of.

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Fallen Rider (Lost Saxons) by Jessica Ames #MCromance @JessicaAmesAuth 

Fallen Rider ebook

 

Mackenzie is falling for the wrong man. Dane is off-limits and not someone she should be thinking about, but she can’t keep her mind off him. Running out on him after a one-night stand, she hoped she could avoid him, but fate has other ideas. When she’s sent to his clubhouse for her own protection, she’s put front and centre in his world and has no choice but to face up to her feelings.

As Vice President of the Devil’s Dogs, Dane knows dating another club’s princess is a huge no-no. He never expected to fall for Mackenzie, but now he’s tasted her he’s not willing to let her go. When outside forces threaten her club and family, he does the only thing he can to save her. He stands at her side, putting him at odds with his own National Chapter.

It won’t be an easy journey, but Mackenzie and Dane are sure of one thing–they’re not doing this without each other.

 

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I’m Jessica Ames: author of the Lost Saxons MC series and a number of other romance titles!

I’m a crochet addict and lover of comic book movies (#TeamMarvel).  I live in the Midlands, UK, with my crazy dog and I love creating stories, some of which you’ll find here!

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Midnight Wreckage (Kings of Vengeance MC) by Winter Travers #MCromance @wintertravers

Title: Midnight Wreckage

Series: Kings of Vengeance MC #4
Author: Winter Travers
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: July 29, 2020

Don’t mess with the Kings of Vengeance…
 
I may not have been raised on the right side of the tracks, but there are two things in life you never mess with: women and children.
 
With the world of the Kings going crazy, the overwhelming urge to keep Queenie safe is just as strong as the need to find Gunner.
 
Anyone who threatens the Kings or what I’ve claimed as my own better pray I never find them.
 
Vengeance is coming.

 

DROP A GEAR AND DISAPPEAR IS ON SALE 99 CENTS
 
 
Wall Street Journal and USA Today bestselling author Winter Travers is a devoted wife, mother, and aunt turned author who was born and raised in Wisconsin. After a brief stint in South Carolina following her heart to chase the man who is now her hubby, they retreated back up North to the changing seasons, and to the place they now call home.Winter spends her days writing happily ever afters, and her nights being a karate mom hauling her son to practices and tournaments.. She also has an addiction to anything MC related, puppies, and baking.

 

 

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Data (Bones MC) by Marteeka Karland #ContemporaryRomance #marteekakarland

Data (Bones MC 8)Zora: I live a life of wealth and luxury. There isn’t anything I can’t have. Except my freedom. So I turned to the computer for friendship. And that’s where I met my match. More than my match And when my life suddenly falls apart, he’s the one to find me. But he’ll also be the one to rip my heart in two.

Data: I’m not good with people. It’s why I stick to my computers. When my online partner and friend ends up in trouble, there’s no way I’m letting her go it alone. I was expecting a mature woman when I pulled up in front of her house. But the girl is barely eighteen.

And I friggin’ want her. To make matters worse, she’s been targeted by elite members of global organized crime. I’m confident I can keep her safe from that danger. I’m less sure I can keep her safe from me. She’s already had one unwanted relationship with an older man. She doesn’t need a man like me. One who will rule her to make her mine. And kill anyone in my way to keep her safe.

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press

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Preorder for July 31st at retailers…

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Apple Books: https://apple.co/396kMr0

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B&N Nook: https://bit.ly/3eHBfTq

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Marteeka Karland

One by one, the riders shut off the bikes but didn’t get off them. Only one man took off his helmet and approached the house, a horrible scowl on his bearded face. Zora quickly jumped up and went inside. She tried to close the door, but the man was on her already. He didn’t grab her but shoved his foot inside the door so she couldn’t shut it.

She squealed, shoving her weight against the door. Like that was going to help if the man really wanted in. She was so slight there wasn’t enough of her to deter him.

“Zora, stop,” he barked.

She was so shocked he knew her name, she obeyed. Then she blinked several times. “D?”

“Data,” he corrected. “And you are in so much trouble, you can’t even conceive.” As angry as he sounded, Zora thought he’d pull her outside, but he didn’t. He held open the screen door and stepped back so she could come back outside the house. When she didn’t readily comply, he raised an eyebrow. “I will carry you if you don’t come out on your own.”

She swallowed but did as he said. Why, she had no idea. Of all the ways she’d envisioned meeting her online friend, this wasn’t it. And what was with all the bikes? She’d also thought he was closer to her age. Sure, the remark about spending time with his daughter had registered, but she’d just assumed his daughter was a child. She hadn’t asked and he hadn’t volunteered, but when she’d imagined what he might look like, it was as a college guy. Maybe slightly older. The reality couldn’t have been further from the truth.

This man — Data — was in his forties, bearded, and heavily muscled. He towered over her. She was only five foot three, so she guessed he was at least six-three or -four. Looking at the men behind him on their bikes, talking amongst themselves, she noticed they glanced toward Zora and Data occasionally. They were all just as big and just as strong. Just as intimidating.

Date gestured for her to go back to her perch on the swing where she’d been before, and he took one of the chairs next to her. For long, long moments, he sat looking at her, his forearms resting on his thighs, fingers laced together.

“Um,” she cleared her throat. “You, uh, want some tea? I’ve got soda, too.”

Nothing.

“I’d offer beer, but I don’t –”

“Why the fuck didn’t you do what I told you to?” He didn’t raise his voice, but the message was the same. Data wasn’t happy with her. At fucking all. “Where’s your phone?”

“I left it at back at Gordon’s house,” she squeaked.

“And the burner I told you to buy? You know, the one you were supposed to use to text me with your location so I knew where you were and had a way to contact you?”

“I forgot it, OK?” Her voice was firm and a little irritated. There. She’d found her spine. Finally. Mostly.

“Do you have your computer?”

“Yeah. But I’ve been so busy trying to get myself set up here, I haven’t been online.”

“Believe me, I’m fully aware. I’ve had our private chat open for days. I had the program set to notify my cell if you came online. My phone has been by my side or in my fuckin’ pocket constantly.” The more he talked, the louder he got, his anger obviously building. He didn’t shout at her, but his frustration with her was more than obvious. Finally, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. “I was fuckin’ worried sick.”

She blinked several times. “What? Why would you worry about me? I can take care of myself.”

“I’m aware. Doesn’t change the fact I like knowin’ you’re good.” There was silence between them. An uncomfortable one where she fidgeted and he just stared at her, his expression unreadable but intense. “Did it ever occur to you I might care about your wellbeing?”

Of course. She got it now. Just like everyone else in her life, he worried about her abilities being taken away from him. And be Goddamned, it hurt. “I’m sure you could find any number of hackers willing and able to help when you need it,” she said, unable to keep the pain from her voice no matter how much she wanted to act like it didn’t bother her. “Hell, you’re much better than I ever thought about being. It’s not like I put you in a bind.”

He sat up straight. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

She shrank back. This wasn’t her D. This man was scary. And an asshole, but she wasn’t saying that out loud. “I said it wasn’t like I put you in a bind.”

“Data!” One of the men called warningly from his bike in her driveway. “Simmer the fuck down, brother.” That was surprising, but not unwelcome.

Data scrubbed a hand over his face before stroking the front of his beard-covered chin with a couple of fingers. “Look,” he said. “Did it ever occur to you I might be worried about more than your abilities with a computer? Maybe I was concerned about my friend. Ever fuckin’ think of that?”

“I… Your… friend?”

“Yeah. My friend.” Data shoved himself out of the chair and held out his hand for her. “Come here, cutie.”

It was that nickname that made her stupid hand land in his and her body allow him to pull her to her feet. The next thing she knew, he’d wrapped her up in those strong arms and hugged her tightly. She was so much shorter than him, he just picked her straight up, her legs dangling in the air.

 

About Marteeka Karland

Erotic romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of.

Marteeka at Changeling Press | Marteeka’s Website | Facebook | BookBub

 

 

 

 

Dixie Reapers MC Series by Harley Wylde #contemporaryromance

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The men of the Dixie Reapers MC take what they want, but there are is one line they won’t cross. They never harm the innocent. The series is currently 14 books long, but each may be read as a stand-alone. Some contain subject matter that may trigger some reason, but warnings are clearly marked.

You can find the entire series HERE.

 

Book 1 – Venom

Available in ebook, paperback, and audiobook!

Ridley –

I might live in a mansion in South Florida, but my daddy was a biker, and I was definitely daddy’s girl. When I found out my mom and stepdad had something horrible planned for me, I ran. Straight to the Dixie Reapers, the only place I’d ever thought of as home, but it wasn’t my daddy’s arms I ended up in. Venom is dark and seductive, the type of man who doesn’t take shit from anyone. Despite his hard exterior, being with him makes me feel safe, and his kisses make me ache for so much more. I’ve never been with a man before, but even as inexperienced as I am, I know that being with Venom will ruin me for anyone else, and I don’t care. I want him – all of him – and damn the consequences.

Venom –

I hadn’t risen to the rank of VP of the Dixie Reapers MC without getting my hands dirty. I’d been deep in blood and dirty money for over twenty years, could have any pussy I wanted whenever I wanted and how the fuck ever I wanted. But when an angel I hadn’t seen in fourteen years came back into my life, all it took was one look in her eyes and I was a goner. As a kid, Ridley had been this little blonde cherub that lit up the place. Now she’s older, has curves in all the right fucking places, and damn if I don’t want her. The fact she was the nineteen year old daughter of a patched member meant I needed to keep my hands to myself, and I might have, if she hadn’t begged me so sweetly. Now she’s mine and I’ll do anything to keep her safe, even if means starting a war.

 

Available at:

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Also in Paperback

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Harley Wylde

My heart thundered in my chest as I locked myself in the bathroom off the foyer. The air duct over my head had always carried sounds from the dining room, and I listened in horror as my stepdad and Mr. Montoya discussed me like I was cattle.

“She’ll do,” Mr. Montoya said. “I’ll have fun breaking her in. Once she’s been properly trained, I’m sure she’ll fetch top dollar.”

My stomach pitched, and I nearly threw up.

“Of course, I’d prefer to see all the merchandise before paying our agreed upon price,” Mr. Montoya said. “After dinner, I’ll see exactly what I’m paying for and maybe take her for a test drive.”

“Whatever you need,” my mom said. “This deal is very important to us.”

Holy shit! My own mother was selling me? Shit like this just didn’t happen. Not to girls like me. Yeah, sure, you heard on the news about women being sold overseas to brothels, but to have it brought to own my front door… My hand shook as I slowly turned the knob and let myself out of the bathroom. I removed my heels so I wouldn’t make a sound.

Marta, the housekeeper we’d had since I first moved here, was quietly standing near the front door. Out of sight of the dining room. With a quick glance toward the door that led to where my fate awaited, I dashed to Marta’s side. She handed me my purse and car keys.

“Be safe,” she whispered. “Go straight to your father.”

“Marta, I…”

She shushed me and gave me a tight hug. “I love you like you were my own. I won’t stand by and let this happen to you. Now go, before they realize you’re not coming back.”

“Thank you,” I said fervently, then soundlessly opened the front door and made my escape.

My car, a Mercedes Richard and Mom had bought on my sixteenth birthday, was parked around the side of the house. The engine was quiet, and if I kept my headlights off, no one would even know I was leaving. I slipped behind the wheel and tossed my purse and shoes on the passenger seat. Fastening my seatbelt, I shut the door as softly as I could and started the engine.

The car crept around the fountain and down the driveway. The gate remained open from when Mr. Montoya had arrived, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Once my tires touched the road, I flicked on my headlights and headed for the highway. It was a long-ass drive to Alabama, but except for gas, I wasn’t fucking stopping until I saw my daddy. Mom might have done her best to separate us, but I would always be Daddy’s little girl.

When I’d been on the road for hours, my stomach began to cramp from hunger and my car was almost on empty. I pulled into a small town somewhere in North Florida. After filling my tank, I left the car parked at the gas station and walked across the street to a diner. But what I saw when I stepped through the doors froze me in my tracks. My face was plastered across the TV with a ticker running underneath. Ridley Johnson is reported as being unstable. If seen, contact the police immediately.

I tried to pull my hair forward as much as possible to hide my face and claimed a spot at the back of the diner, where the lighting wasn’t so great. My hands fumbled with my purse, and I quietly counted what was left of my cash. I’d seen enough crime shows to know my credit cards could be traced, so I’d paid cash at the gas station and I’d pay cash for my meal. An older waitress came over, looking dead on her feet.

“What can I get you, doll?”

“A burger and fries with a sweet tea.”

She nodded and scribbled my order down, not even looking at my face once. As she moved away to place my order with the kitchen, some of the tension eased from my shoulders. The place was nearly empty, but I had a close call when a sheriff’s deputy stepped inside. I sat frozen, scared to even breathe, until he picked up his to-go order and went back out to his cruiser.

My meal arrived a few minutes later, and I ate quickly, leaving enough money on the table to cover the bill and a tip. Gathering my purse, I headed back to my car, every nerve in my body on alert for any kind of trouble. I hit the road again and didn’t stop until I’d cleared the panhandle.

The town was shabby, the sidewalks cracked, and the buildings crumbling. I stuck out like a sore thumb, but it was time to change. I stopped to top off my tank at a gas station that was well lit, just in case I got stuck with the car a while longer, and grabbed my backpack from the trunk. In case my family had gotten nosy, I’d hidden it in the spare tire compartment, which meant if I had a flat I was shit out of luck because both the tire and my bag and boots hadn’t fit.

After filling up the car, I stepped into the grimy bathroom and stripped out of my dress and heels. I washed my face in the sink with the harsh soap provided in the dispenser and blotted it dry with the stiffest damn paper towels I’d ever touched. Pulling an elastic from my bag, I pulled my hair up into a ponytail, the long curling mass falling down the center of my back. After I had shimmied into a pair of tight, ripped jeans and put on a black tee with teal swirls and white skulls across the front, I slipped on some socks and the biker boots I’d picked up at a Harley Davidson store.

A smile flashed across my face as I studied my reflection in the cracked mirror. Aside from the golden curls, I didn’t even look like Ridley Johnson anymore. At least, not the Ridley Johnson Mom had molded me to be. I hated that girl and never wanted to be her again. I stuffed my dress and heels in the trash, picked up my bag, and went back out to my car. The guy behind the counter didn’t even look up from his magazine.

Now I just had one more problem. The damn car. There was no way my stepdad had put out that bulletin on me without also telling the cops what I was driving. It was a fucking miracle no one had pulled me over yet. I knew what I was about to do was risky as hell, but so was driving around in this damn Mercedes for another minute.

I’d hung around my dad long enough to know what I was searching for. Our visits might have been few, but he’d always made them count. Mom thought we were taking drives to the park or the beach, but he’d been teaching me about his way of life, and introducing me to some people she wouldn’t have approved of.

I pulled up to a garage on a darkened street corner. A light inside told me someone was around, even if the place wasn’t officially open. My palms were sweating again but I blew out a breath and braced myself. It was time to put the socialite behind me and be every inch my father’s daughter. I pulled the keys from the ignition and boldly walked inside.

“You can’t be here, bitch,” a voice said harshly from deep inside.

“I need to make a trade,” I said.

A man with a leather cut strolled out of the garage, the lighting just good enough that I could read Devil’s Boneyard MC — V.P. — Scratch.

I had no fucking clue if it was a rival club of Dixie Reapers or not and knew I needed to tread carefully. We studied one another, his gaze taking me in from head to toe. Not in an I want to fuck her kind of way, more like he was assessing if I was a threat.

“I have a problem,” I said. “I have a hot car and need someone to take it off my hands. All I need in return is something that will run well enough for me to get a few states away.”

Scratch rubbed his jaw and looked beyond me to the silver Mercedes.

“If you change out the VIN or strip it for parts, you can make a decent amount off it,” I said. “I don’t care what piece of shit you give me in return as long as it gets me where I’m going. I need reliable, not flashy.”

He took in my appearance again. “You know how to ride?”

His question momentarily startled me. “Ride?”

He tipped his head and sauntered back inside the garage. Against my better judgment, I followed. There was an older motorcycle sitting off to the side. The pewter gray tank and fenders had seen better days, but as I circled the bike I saw that it was in pretty decent condition. The Harley emblem, though tarnished, was a welcome surprise. I wasn’t a bike expert by any means, even though Dad had tried, but I thought it was a Harley Soft Tail, which meant it would be light enough for a woman like me to handle. Unlike the big monster my dad rode.

“How well does it run?” I asked.

Scratch walked over to a wall and pulled down a key, tossing it to me. I snatched it midair and straddled the bike. The key turned in the ignition easily enough and I twisted the throttle. The engine rumbled, and a smile spread across my face. God, I’d fucking missed that sound. The thrum of the bike between my legs made me feel like I was coming home. Dad had taught me to ride when I was fourteen, and he’d rented a bike for me every time he’d visited after that, even if I hadn’t been exactly been legal to drive the first few years.

“Even trade?” I asked.

The gaze Scratch gave me said he saw more than I liked, but he nodded.

“I just need to get my stuff from the Mercedes. It’s unlocked,” I said, handing him the car keys.

When I returned with my backpack strapped to me, my purse stuffed inside, he held out some papers to me. I glanced at them and saw it was everything I’d need to make the bike legal when I got to where I was going.

“I don’t know who you belong to, baby girl, or what you’re running from, but you don’t fucking stop until you reach your man.”

“You know who I am,” I said softly.

“Picture’s been all over the news tonight, statewide from what I hear. You don’t appear all that unstable to me, but that family you’re leaving… they’re bad news. Richard Benton III is not a nice man.”

“You know my stepdad?” I asked without thinking.

“Know of him. My crew won’t have anything to do with the shit he’s mixed up in.”

I straddled the bike again and nodded.

“Who taught you to ride? Socialites like you don’t know shit about bikes.”

“I’m not a socialite. I’m a biker’s daughter.” And that was as much as I was going to tell him.