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

 

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

 

WraithCover

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

 

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

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

 

Rocky/Bull Duet (Dixie Reapers MC Print 2)

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

 

Rocky (Dixie Reapers MC 3)

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

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

Bull (Dixie Reapers MC 4)

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

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

 

Get the paperback at Amazon!

 

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

Mara

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t move,” he said.

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

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

“My bag,” I said softly.

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

“I’m Mara,” I said. “Mara O’Malley.”

His gaze flicked down to mine. “Rocky.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Check out more books by Harley

 

Dixie Reapers MC paperback, Volume 1 #MCromance #bikerromance #newadult #olderhero #NewRelease @changelingpress #HarleyW_Writer

One fucking look. That’s all it took. I branded her. I let her go.
Now she’s back, and she’s mine.

Venom/Torch Duet (Dixie Reapers MC Print 1)

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

Venom (Dixie Reapers MC 1)

Ridley: My daddy was a biker, and I was definitely Daddy’s girl. When I found out my stepdad had something horrible planned for me, I ran. Straight to the Dixie Reapers. But it wasn’t my daddy’s arms I ended up in. Venom makes me feel safe, and his kisses make me ache for so much more. 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. But when an angel I hadn’t seen in fourteen years came back into my life, all it took was one look and I was a goner. Now she’s mine, and I’ll do anything to keep her, even if it means starting a war.

Torch (Dixie Reapers MC 2)

Isabella: I was seventeen when my daddy gave me to Torch. He inked me, then watched me walk away. Now I’m back, ready to face whatever fate awaits me. It never occurred to me he’d kiss me so deeply, so passionately I’d be begging for more. He’ll be my first, my last, my only… because I’m his, and he’s never going to let me forget it.

Torch: I’ve kept my distance, watching over the girl I claimed as my own. I know it’s only a matter of time before she comes home. There may be thirty years between us, but fuck if I care what people think. She’s mine, and I’m going take her any way I can, as often as I can, and when I’m done, she’ll never again think of walking out the door. Because she’s done the impossible… she’s claimed the heart of a man who didn’t think he had one. No one’s going to come between us, especially not the man who gave his daughter to me — not even if he has the entire cartel army on his ass.

Available at Amazon

Prefer ebook? Venom and Torch are available separately in ebook from Changeling Press.

 

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Venom (Dixie Reapers MC 1)
Harley Wylde
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.

 

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Short. Erotic. Sweet. Harley’s other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. When Harley is writing, her motto is the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place.

Visit Harley at harleywylde.com!

Scratch (Devil’s Boneyard MC) Now Available! #NewRelease #MCromance #NewAdult #OlderHero #MayDecember @changelingpress @HarleyW_Writer

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genre(s): Guilty Pleasures
Theme(s): MC Romance, New Adult, Silver Fox

 

He just wanted to give the struggling single mom a hand up.
He never thought he’d fall for her.

Clarity — I’ve been on my own since I was sixteen, and I’ve fought tooth and nail to make a life for myself and the son I never planned to have. Caleb is my entire world, despite the circumstances of his birth. Being homeless a second time certainly hadn’t been in my life plans, so when a gruff yet sexy biker offers a bit of help, how can I possibly say no? Doesn’t hurt that the older man is easy on the eyes, and he’s so good with Caleb. I’d thought I wasn’t able to trust anyone ever again, but looking into his eyes, I know deep down he’d never hurt us. It just never occurred to me that I’d fall completely in love with him.

Scratch — The young woman and kid I find sleeping outside my club’s chop shop make me feel things I shouldn’t. Hell, she’s younger than my damn daughter, but it’s obvious she’s been to hell and back, and she’s still fighting. There’s fire in her soul, but the gentle way she treats her son leaves me wanting things I shouldn’t. Like a new chance at a family. What the hell would she want with a man thirty years older than her? When I took her home with me, I never counted on wanting to keep her. I’ll slay her demons, bury the monsters from her past, and then I’ll do the one thing I thought I’d never do… claim an old lady, then make her my wife.

WARNING: Contains anal sex, bad language, and scorching hot scenes between an older man and much younger woman. There are abuse themes that may make some people uncomfortable.

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Harley Wylde

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

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

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

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

“No!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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Jackal (Devil’s Boneyard MC) by Harley Wylde #NewAdult #SingleMom #BikerRomance #MCromance #MayDecember #SecretBaby @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

 

Jackal never wanted to be a dad, but knowing he has a two-year-old little girl changes everything.

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Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Contemporary, Second Chance, MC Romance,
New Adult, Silver Fox (older hero)

Josie: I spent an amazing three days with Jackal before he disappeared, back to his club, the Devil’s Boneyard. He’d made it clear what we had was a temporary thing — he never wanted the picket fence and kids. I was fine with that. Then I faced the scariest thing ever. Telling my big brother, Tank, a Dixie Reaper, I was pregnant and alone at the age of nineteen. He wanted to go after Jackal, but I wouldn’t let him. I wanted this baby, and I knew Jackal wouldn’t. I never expected to see him again. Funny how fate has a way of surprising you.

Jackal: I’ve thought about Josie often since I walked away from her over two years ago. When I’m finally back in Dixie Reapers territory, I knew I’d look her up, see if we could have some more fun. I never counted on the little girl glued to her hip, or the fact the kid was mine. So I did what I do best. I ran. But now I want something I’ve never wanted before. My family. Because Josie and our daughter, Allegra, are exactly what’s been missing in my life. I just have to do some groveling and hope she’ll forgive me. Easy, right? I’ve never had a woman tell me no.

Figures the one I want more than anything might be the first to send me packing. But when she gets an unexpected visitor who threatens her and our child, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe. Now that I’m ready to keep my woman and kid, I’m not letting anyone take them away.

WARNING: Lots of over the top hot sex, an alpha biker who just can’t seem to get it right, and an adorable little girl who will steal your heart. Guaranteed HEA. No cliffhanger.

Get it today at Changeling Press

Pre-Order for October 12th at:
Amazon / B&N / iTunes / Kobo 

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EXCERPT

I frowned at Scratch. “What do you mean they want me out of here?”

Scratch rubbed his beard. “I didn’t ask questions, but I’d imagine it has something to do with you fucking Tank’s sister the last time you were here. You ran off with her for a few days and I don’t think that went over well with big brother.”

“Shit, Scratch! She’s a grown woman and can make her own decisions. If she has a complaint about our time together, I want to hear it from her.”

He shrugged.

“Do you know where she lives?” I asked.

“I shouldn’t tell you,” Scratch said. “They don’t want you anywhere near her.”

“We’re brothers, man. Come on. I just want to talk to her. If she’s pissed at me, fine. I want to hear it from her.”

He watched me for a moment, then nodded. “I heard she’s been living with Tank. Green two-story house about two miles down the road,” he said, nodding to the left of the compound. “But if Tank beats the shit out of you for going after his sister, you’re on your own. You’ve already been warned away.”

“I’m just going to talk to her. If she wants me to leave, then I will.”

“Don’t stir shit up, Jackal. I’ll send you packing and ask someone else to come help. You hear me?” Scratch asked.

“Yeah. I hear you.”

I got on my bike and went in search of Tank’s house. The car parked in the driveway of the green house looked to be the same one that had been outside the clubhouse that night over two years ago. I killed the engine on my bike and walked up the porch steps, then knocked on the door. A slightly curvier Josie opened the door, her hair up in a messy bun, no make-up on her face, but fuck if she didn’t look gorgeous. Her hips seemed a little wider than before and her breasts looked bigger too. She damn near took my breath away, and I knew I was staring. There were dark circles under her eyes, and there was a yellow smear on her tank top, but I ached to reach for her.

I smiled. “Hi, Josie.”

Her eyes went wide and she stepped outside, pulling the door mostly shut behind her. She cast a nervous glance into the house before facing me again.

“What are you doing here, Jackal?”

“I came to help Zipper and I wanted to see you.”

She nervously looked over her shoulder again through the crack in the door, pulling it closed a little more before looking at me. Something was up, but I didn’t know what. I knew Tank wasn’t in there, so who was? Was there a guy in there she didn’t want me to see? I hadn’t really thought about her hooking up with someone while I was gone, but I should have. A beautiful redhead like Josie? She probably had men falling at her feet.

“You should go,” she said.

“Go, but… What’s going on, Josie? Are you pissed I didn’t call?” I glanced at the door, anger burning in my gut. “Is there someone else?”

“Please, Jackal. I can’t do this right now.”

She stepped back inside, careful that I wouldn’t see into the house, then shut the door. I heard the lock click and her footsteps wander away.

What the fuck was going on?

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Short. Erotic. Sweet. Harley’s other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. When Harley is writing, her motto is the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place.

harleywylde.com

 

Interview with Anne Kane and check out her latest book – Ride ‘Em Cowboy! #interview #MCromance #bikers #RomanceBooks @annekane @changelingpress

I have the lovely Anne Kane on my blog today! She’s stopped by to answer a few questions and tell us about her latest release, Ride ‘Em Cowboy!

When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

ANNE: I’ve known I wanted to be a writer forever. Before I was old enough to actually write things down, I used to tell my stuffed animals stories when I was a kid. They were really a great audience. They listened in rapt silence to every word I uttered! It may have given me an unrealistic view of my abilities

Do you have a favorite type of hero or heroine to write?

ANNE: Absolutely. I like my heroines to be kiss-ass independent women who don’t need to have a man around to take care of them. They are smart, strong and invariably attract alpha males who are mature enough to accept a woman who knows what she wants.

Do you have a routine you follow when you’re working on a book? A certain time of day when you write, or a snack you keep nearby?

I’m a morning person so I write best first thing in the morning, often while I’m drinking that all important first cup of coffee. The words seem to flow at that point whereas if I try to write before bedtime, I usually find myself staring at the computer screen with no idea what I want to say next. I’ve learned to do my creative writing in the morning, and my other tasks such as marketing and updating my website later in the day.

Did anyone give you writing advice when you were first getting started? Do you think it helped?

ANNE: When I decided to take a serious run at getting published, I joined a critique group created by a wonderful woman named Barbara Karmazian. She was a published author who was willing to take the time to coach a bunch of us wanna be writers, and I learned a lot of technical things from her as well as how to submit to publishers and what to expect from them. I met her in person in Las Vegas one year and I treasure the memory of that time. She has since passed away and I miss her humor and her gentle support. I credit her with giving me the emotional strength to actually submit my work to publishers who might reject it.

What is the scariest thing you face as a writer? How do you handle it?

ANNE: Wondering if it will be rejected. No matter how many stories I publish I still get nervous when I send a new project to my editor. I’m not sure I actually handle it all that well. I try to ignore it.

What do you think is the most important thing to remember when following your dreams?  You need to have faith in yourself, and you need to realize that they are YOUR dreams, not someone elses. No one else gets to decide if your dreams are worth pursuing.

Marketing. I know most authors have a love/hate relationship with it. Have you found that to be true, and do you have any recommendations for new or aspiring authors? 

ANNE: Absolutely true! Marketing takes up time that I could be spending writing, but if I don’t do it then there isn’t a lot of point in writing. Since the advent of the ebook and self-publishing, the competition for readers is fierce and marketing is essential. The problem is that it is a hit and miss proposition. Sometimes a marketing ploy works well and other times it bombs. The price you pay for advertising is not always an indicator of the success of that ad. And of course, what works today may not work tomorrow. Yes, love/hate pretty much describes it!

 

Thank you for stopping by for a visit, Anne!  Now here are all the juicy details about Ride ‘Em Cowboy, Anne Kane’s latest release with Changeling Press!

 

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Ride ‘em Cowboy!

By Anne Kane

Genres: Contemporary, romance, MC romance

http://www.AnneKane.com

Buy it Here

 

Fiona really wasn’t in the market for a lover or a partner or some guy to give her a sappy sweet happily ever after. Been there, done that, got the scars to prove it. She just wanted a nice one-night stand. She planned to be long gone come breakfast time.

When she saw that gorgeous cowboy ride up on his Harley, she figured it was her lucky day. Bikers don’t do forever, right? Her perfect match! They could tell each other a few lies, scratch each other’s itches and then go their separate ways. The last thing she needed was to hook up with some guy she’d smack headlong into at church the next day.

Simple, right? So how did it all go so very wrong?

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EXCERPT

The crowd over by the mechanical bull let out an extra loud whoop. She glanced back in that direction and there he was. One hand gripped the rope that circled the bull’s midsection and the other waved in the air high above his shoulder. The well-worn cowboy hat jammed firmly on top of his head was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. She could just imagine him standing in front of her, buck naked except for that hat.

Naked and ready for action.

He nodded at someone she couldn’t see, and the bull started to move.

Damn. Ride ’em, cowboy!

The man was born for this. His body moved with a smooth fluidity that made it look easy. With all the jerking and jumping that metal monster did, you’d think the rider would jump and jerk just as much, but he made it look like a dance that he’d mastered so long ago he didn’t even have to put any effort into it. His body flowed from one move to the next, power and strength visible in each change.

That sexy cowboy hat stayed on his head too, pulled down low enough to almost cover his eyes. They were dark, dark and hard. The kind o

f eyes that made one take a step back and reconsider whether or not it was a good idea to garner his attention.

She worked her way through the crowd to a position in the front row where she could see him better. And where he could see her. That was the point, after all. It was all good and well to admire the sexy bull-riding cowboy from afar but to get what she needed and wanted out of this little excursion, she needed to be closer to him. A whole lot closer. As in, right up tight against him, skin to skin, but that would have to wait until after he finished showing off his prowess on the mechanical bull.

As she moved through the crowd, she realized this wasn’t the cowboy’s first time at this particular drinking hole. The comments from the onlookers implied he came here often, possibly on a regular basis. Most importantly, at least to her, was the fact that he didn’t appear to have a steady girlfriend. If he did, no one was mentioning it and it seemed she wasn’t the only one angling to spend the night playing ride the cowboy.

She felt a familiar surge of anticipation. Nothing like a bit of rivalry to make the prize look even better. Leaning against the railing that surrounded the arena, she eyed up her competition.

A young blonde girl to her left took her hat off as the mechanical bull swung the cowboy around to face her. Letting out a loud whoop, she waved the hat in the air and flashed him with a wide-open shirt. Silly twit had tits the size of grapes, hardly enticing to a real man.

Fiona’s cowboy dude ignored the blonde, which didn’t surprise her. She was guessing this guy had been around the block a time or two and recognized jailbait when he saw it.

Fiona tossed her head back, letting her mane of dark hair bounce around her shoulders before it settled in a riotous tangle of curls down her back. The metal bull was coming around again, and she was pretty sure the guy’s time was just about up. Wasn’t there an eight-second rule or something attached to these things?

She timed it perfectly, leaning forward to give him a tantalizing glimpse of her ample bosom just as he came ’round again. She caught his gaze, letting her mouth form a surprised “oh” before she grinned saucily to let him know the peep show was intentional.

He did her one better though. Throwing his leg across the back of the bucking, bouncing pile of metal he slid to the ground amid a thunderous outbreak of applause. Not bothering to slow down, he strode over to where she stood, still leaning on the fencing. Wrapping one muscular arm around her waist he plucked her over the safety rails and proceeded to devour her mouth like a starving coyote on a drought-plagued range.

The man knew how to kiss!

Fire ignited deep in her belly and she wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his kiss with every ounce of pent-up lust and frustration she’d been harboring since her last get-laid-quick adventure. No man had ever kissed her quite like this though — hard and fast, with an overwhelming hint of more and better things to come. He held her tight against his body, and she savored the feel of his sleekly muscled chest pressing against her. He was as solid as a rock, with wide shoulders that tapered to his waist. As for below the beltline, let’s just say she wasn’t left in any doubt about his attraction to her.

She sure hoped he used his mouth as well in the bedroom as he did in the bar. He bent her back over his arm with practiced ease, using his tongue to explore the depths of her mouth. She gave back as good as she got, wordlessly letting him know that she wanted to get to know him better. Much better.

She could hear the roar of the crowd in the background, like a muffled noise in the distance. Briefly, she wondered if maybe she was in over her head this time. The cowboy didn’t strike her as easy to manipulate, even with great sex. Then his tongue slid along the side of hers and up the inside of her cheek. At the same time, he moved one hand to caress the side of her breast.

Oh yeah. This was going to happen.

When they finally came up for air, he stood her upright and brushed the hair off her face with a surprisingly gentle touch. Leaning in close, he lowered his voice to a sexy whisper. “Can a cowboy buy a lady a drink?”

 

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 Roosters - from www.ChangelingPress.com

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue dog who’s breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing with her first story.  Then just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission to them. Since then she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all with a happily ever after.

Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.

You can find Anne around the web at:

Website: http://www.AnneKane.com

Blog: http://annekane.wordpress.com

Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/annekane

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/anne.kane.author

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/Annekane

 

COVER REVEAL – Jackal (Devil’s Boneyard MC) by Harley Wylde #MCromance #coverreveal #bikerromance #newadult #singlemom @changelingpress @HarleyW_Writer

The wait is nearly over! Harley Wylde fans might be familiar with the Devil’s Boneyard, as several characters have made appearances in her best-selling Dixie Reapers series. Book one in the Devil’s Boneyard series will be arriving at online retailers on October 12th, 2018, or you can get it direct from the publisher on October 5th! And if you’re new to Harley Wylde’s MC world, you can jump right in! Jackal’s story will give you a good mix of Dixie Reapers and Devil’s Boneyard so it’s an excellent place to start.
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Coming October 2018 with Changeling Press

Josie – I spent an amazing three days with Jackal before he disappeared, back to his club, the Devil’s Boneyard. He’d made it clear that what we had was a temporary thing, and that he never wanted the picket fence and kids. I was fine with that. Then I faced the scariest thing ever. Telling my big brother, Tank, a Dixie Reaper, that I was pregnant and alone at the age of nineteen. He wanted to go after Jackal, but I wouldn’t let him. I wanted this baby, and I knew Jackal wouldn’t. I never expected to see him again. Funny how fate has a way of surprising you.

Jackal – I’ve thought about Josie often since I walked away from her over two years ago. When I’m finally back in Dixie Reapers territory, I knew I’d look her up, see if we could have some more fun. I never counted on the little girl glued to her hip, or the fact the kid was mine. So I did what I do best. I ran. But now I want something I’ve never wanted before. My family, because Josie and our daughter Allegra were exactly what’s been missing in my life. I just have to do some groveling and hope she’ll forgive me. Easy, right? I’ve never had a woman tell me no. Figures the one I want more than anything might be the first to send me packing. But when she gets an unexpected visitor who threatens her and our child, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe. Now that I’m ready to keep my woman and kid, I’m not letting anyone take them away.

WARNING: Lots of over the top hot sex, an alpha biker who just can’t seem to get it right, and an adorable little girl who will steal your heart.  Guaranteed HEA. No cliffhanger.

Add to your Goodreads

 

Where to find Harley:

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