Sarge (Dixie Reapers MC) by Harley Wylde #contemporaryromance

Sarge (Dixie Reapers MC 14)

Cover Art by Bryan Keller

Katya — I never thought the day would come that my father would sell me to the highest bidder. Oh, he called it marriage, but I knew it was only to advance his rankings in the Bratva. Like I cared about that. But before he ruined my life, I knew I had to get my nephew to safety. My sister had told me of the man who got her pregnant, but not exactly where to find him. With Liliya gone, I needed to get Theo to safety before the shackles on me tightened even more. It never occurred to me the man would be sexy, or so alpha. The bearded beast just made things harder because now I don’t want to leave, and I know if I don’t that hell will come knocking.

Sarge — Never knew I had a son, nor did I know his mother had a sister. Seeing her haul back her fist to take down a Prospect was the hottest thing I’d ever watched, and I knew then and there she’d be mine. No matter how much she protests, I’m not letting her go. She might be worried I’ll get hurt, but let the Bratva come for her. They’re not the Boogeyman, and I’m not scared of them. She’s my fierce kitten, and I’ll do whatever it takes to drive that home to her, even if I have to tie her to the bed and remind her over and over that she belongs with me.

WARNING: This book touches on sensitive issues that may be difficult for some readers. But there is no cheating, no cliffhanger, and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.

 

Available at Changeling Press

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Harley Wylde

Katya — Present Day

The more miles I put between myself and my family, the more the knot in my stomach eased. I glanced in my rearview mirror every ten minutes, maybe less, to check on the precious cargo I carried. My sister’s child, Theo, slept soundly in his car seat. No one would care that Theo went missing, but my absence would be noticed. With Liliya no longer a viable option, my father would try to pawn me off on one of his friends to strengthen the empire. His words, not mine. The moment my sister had returned, pregnant, I’d known it was only a matter of time. I’d end up marrying the same man she’d been slated to wed.

Until my sister had gone missing about six years ago, I’d been left alone to do my own thing, which had been amazing. Then Liliya had vanished into thin air and my father had put more pressure on me to change and adapt to the way a Voronin should behave. Whatever the fuck that meant. I refused to be the dutiful little girl and marry whatever goon my father sold me to, and that was essentially what it would be. I’d thought about seeking asylum from Viktor Petrov. It was no secret that he looked more kindly on women since marrying, but I didn’t know that he would care about my fate. My father was so far down the hierarchy that I was beyond a nobody.

I’d deactivated my GPS on my car, and left my phone at home. I’d grabbed a pay-as-you-go phone so I wouldn’t be without a way to call for help should the need arise, but no one knew the number. I’d added any contacts I might need, but hadn’t used the phone yet. There was no way they could follow me, but it didn’t stop me from checking my mirrors every few miles. I didn’t have much to go on. My sister had told me that Theo’s father was a guy called Sarge, and he was part of some biker gang or club called the Dixie Reapers down in Alabama. I’d not dared to ask around back home, but I’d hit the road heading south, and stopped when I saw a group of bikers a few hours into my trip. I’d asked if they’d heard of the Dixie Reapers, and they’d pointed me in the right direction.

I only hoped they didn’t remember me. If my father sent men in this direction, I didn’t want anyone to recall that I’d been there or the questions I’d asked. The last thing I needed was anyone putting my father’s guys on my trail. They were like damn bloodhounds already. If they caught a whiff of my trail, it would be a miracle if I reached Alabama before they found me, but I had to try. I owed it to my sister to make sure Theo ended up with his father.

I ached from head to toe by the time I pulled up in front of the gates of the Dixie Reapers’ compound. The sun had already risen, and I was so exhausted my eyes hurt. Resting hadn’t been an option, so other than breaks to use the bathroom, take care of Theo, or grabbing a bite to eat, I’d pushed through. There was a guy standing guard who eyed my car with a sneer. Great. Already off on the right foot as usual.

Rolling down the window, I peered up at him, hoping my bloodshot eyes didn’t make me look like someone trying to find their next fix. It was laughable since I’d never even had a drink or smoked a cigarette, much less done drugs. Not to mention the kid in my back seat, although I supposed if I was hooked on meth or something I wouldn’t give a shit if the kid was there or not.

“Whatever you’re looking for, you need to find it elsewhere,” the man said.

“I need to see Sarge.”

He was shaking his head and backing away before I could even explain why. Anger burned hot inside me. I hadn’t driven all this way, risking my life and my nephew’s, for this asshole to not even let me speak to the guy. I threw open my door and got out, stomping toward him in my Doc Martens. My sister had always called them my badass bitch boots.

“Listen here, you little prick, I need to see Sarge, and I’m not leaving until I do,” I said, planting my feet shoulders-width apart and folding my arms over my chest.

He eyed me up and down, then snorted. Yeah, okay, so he was a good foot taller than me. Maybe little hadn’t been the right word. Then again. I eyed his crotch so he’d think that’s what I meant, and with him being such a dick, maybe he really was overcompensating for something.

“You bitch.” He snarled and came after me, but I stood my ground. I saw the fist coming and waited until it was nearly kissing my cheek before I ducked and planted my own against his ribs. Thank you, self-defense classes! I was so grateful I’d been sneaking off to a gym between classes.

“Enough!” another man shouted as he approached from inside the gate. “What the fuck is going on, Prospect? We don’t hit women. Especially little pixie girls who look like they weigh ninety pounds soaking wet.”

“He refuses to let me speak to Sarge,” I said.

His gaze sharpened on me. “Russian?”

I bit my lip. The way he said it made me think maybe I wasn’t welcome here just because of where my family came from. I’d thought I’d learned to control my accent better, but apparently I was wrong. I knew Liliya had learned to mimic accents from anywhere in the world and had probably passed for one of the regulars around here. I wasn’t so lucky.

“Answer me, girl,” he demanded, his voice deep and growly.

“Yes, I’m Russian.” I tilted my chin up.

His lips twitched like he was fighting not to smile, then he glared at the guy he’d called Prospect. “You get the shit job of cleaning the clubhouse bathrooms for the next week, and those damn things better sparkle regardless of what time of day it is. I don’t care if you have to use a fucking toothbrush to get it done. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” The guy’s jaw tightened and his face flushed. I could tell he was pissed. I’d probably just made another enemy.

“Let her through.” The man looked at me again. “Park in front of the large building right there, and don’t wander off or I can promise you won’t like the consequences.”

Was it wrong that gruff tone paired with his words made my thighs clench and my panties dampen? I’d never been with a man before, but this one was almost enough to make me change my mind. I’d decided long ago they were more trouble than they were worth. Besides, I could get myself off so what was the point of letting some guy sweat all over me?

I got back in my car and pulled through the gate, stopping in front of the building. I left the engine running so the car would be comfortable for Theo, then I got out and shut the door. Leaning against it, I waited for the older man to come over and talk to me. As he drew closer, I looked him over. Tall, far taller than me, and broad but not bulky. He was muscular without looking like he went to a gym for hours every day. Then my gaze landed on the leather covering his shoulders. Sarge. Shit. This was the man my sister had slept with?

Sighing, I dropped my gaze. So much for my interest in a man for the first time in my life. Figured it was the guy who broke my sister’s heart. Just another reason to stay single. Men were too much trouble.

“What do you want with me?” Sarge asked.

 

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 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!

Torque (Wicked Mayhem MC) by Harley Wylde #preorder #ContemporaryRomance @HarleyW_Writer

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About the Book:

BRISTOL – When I met Torque, I didn’t expect more than a steamy one-night stand from the sexy-as-hell biker. His bedroom eyes. His wicked smile. His sinful body. I couldn’t resist him. It was only supposed to be one time. He didn’t do repeats, and I wasn’t looking for more. Until our night together had consequences – the kind that lasts eighteen years. Torque might be phenomenal between the sheets, but I wasn’t too sure the bad boy biker was daddy material.

TORQUE – The hot blonde with the lush curves and naughty mouth had given me a wild, wicked ride. A man could drown in her seductive eyes, but I never go back for seconds, no matter how tempting Bristol might be. Then she storms back into my life with news that sends me off-kilter. I hadn’t planned to keep her, but now that she’s having my kid, there’s no way I’m letting her go. She’ll be mine whether she likes it or not.

*WARNING: This book is recommended for ages 18+ due to sexual content, strong language, and darker undertones.

 

Preorder at online retailers for April 28th:

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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.
Follow Harley at: Website | Amazon | BookBub | Twitter | Facebook

Release Blitz: Callous Criminal by Lynn Burke #contemporaryromance #MCromance

Title: Callous Criminal
Series: Vicious Vipers #3
Author: Lynn Burke
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: March 26, 2020
Cover Design: Designs by L~
I’m a cold hearted criminal, and I’ve lived a callous life as the Sergeant at Arms of the Vicious Vipers MC. I spent most of my childhood as a victim, and because of the junkie who raised me, I hate to be touched.

 

But her…
The social worker my fingers itch to reach for—she’s wholesome. Kind. Too good for a man like me, and yet, I can’t curb my weakness to be near her.
When one of her teenage clients needs protection from the same type of man who hurt my sister, I know I’ll be revealing my true self, my darker side, to help the girl.
For her.
I’ll lose the only person I’ve found who values my feelings above her own—the woman whose sweet nature is a force to be reckoned with.
I know I should walk away, but how do I leave the heart I didn’t know I still had behind?
*This is the third book in the Vicious Vipers MC series and may be unsuitable for someone under 18 years of age. HEA guaranteed, however, secondary characters make appearances in other’s stories. Reading in order is recommended.

 

The sun hit my face along with hot, humid air stinking of exhaust, and I turned toward my bike.

Head down, focused on a cell, a woman hurried toward me, and I scuttled sideways to escape her fast clip.

Not fucking fast enough.

She slammed into my side and grasped hold of my bare forearm, a squeak of surprise ripping from her mouth as her cell clattered to the sidewalk.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” She lessened her grip on my arm, and I clenched my teeth as my stomach knotted fast as fuck.

I hated to be touched.

Not wanting to be a complete asshole, I didn’t shake off her hold but waited for her to steady herself in her sandals. Her soft touch burned my skin. Sent a shot of need to lash out with my fists along with an energetic zap to my dick I hadn’t felt in years.

I pulled away the second I could and bent to retrieve her cell while she righted her purse and the sweater she had draped over one arm.

Standing, I handed her the phone she’d dropped.

Straight blonde hair brushed her shoulders, her blue-green eyes and pale lashes unframed or painted by makeup. Pink flushed her cheeks, and she pressed her lips together, drawing my focus to the sparkling gloss coating them while reaching for her cell.

I made sure to keep our fingers from touching. “Not a problem,” I stated with a gruffness I hadn’t meant to do while noting the flush across her chest and the hint of cleavage peeking at the top of her plain, buttoned up blouse.

She smiled up at me, a plain-Jane yet classically beautiful woman who smelled like fresh, juicy watermelon.

My mouth watered, and I stepped back out of her way. With a dip of my head, I moved around her, intent on my bike—and escaping the weird vibe breaking me out into a sweat atop the bright as fuck sun.

It is the heat, I told myself while fighting the need to look over my shoulder. See if her back was as pretty as her front, even if she hadn’t dressed to showcase the curves I’d caught a glimpse of.

The bike roared to life between my thighs, and I glanced toward Dunks while pulling on my helmet. She’d gone inside, escaping the heat, but I couldn’t see her past the glare of the sun on the shop’s windows.

Lips set in a line, I put on my shades and pulled out, already sweating through my t-shirt. 

© Lynn Burke 2020

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
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Book Blitz: Shattered Skull (Sons of Sinister) by Tabatha Vargo #NewAdult #MCromance

Title: Shattered Skull
Series: Sons of Sinister #1
Author: Tabatha Vargo
Genre: New Adult MC Romance
Release Date: March 17, 2020

The first time I saw Aiken Cross aka Skull, he was standing atop a speeding motorcycle.
 
The second time, he was putting his fist through my brother’s face.
 
Now he’s everywhere I look.
 
He’s making my life hell with his vulgar remarks and seductive lure, but it’s not my fault my brother joined The Border Lords, his rival crew. I keep my nose out of their business and my head in the books, yet he’s always there provoking me. Dragging me into their conflict.
Everyone in town knows you don’t mess with the Sons of Sinister, but no one ever told me what to do when a Son of Sinister messes with me.

Tabatha is a New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author, best known for her sexy adult romance Little Black Book.
 
Tabatha writes in all genres, including adult and new adult, and isn’t afraid to venture into the dark side on occasion, as she proved with her dark, prison romance, Slammer. 
 
She’s an avid reader of all things smutty and the writer of sexy stories featuring redeemable alpha bad boys and sweet, strong women.
 
Her other loves include her children, her loving, supportive husband, anything historical, and wind chimes.
 
When she isn’t writing, she’s texting book ideas to herself.
 
Tabatha is represented by Jane Dystel of Dystel & Goderich Literary Management.
 
Subscribe to Tabatha’s newsletter and get a FREE BOOK!
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Trucker (Bones MC) by Marteeka Karland #contemporaryromance

Trucker (Bones MC 6)

Cover Art by Marteeka Karland

Helen — I’ve made some bad choices in my life. The worst was falling for a man who kidnapped me and held me hostage. He wants my baby. Why, I have no idea, but there’s no way he’s getting it without a fight. Once this is over, assuming I’m still alive, I’m going to need some serious help.

Trucker — The small redhead blows me away at first sight. And not only because of the knife sticking out of her very pregnant belly. She’s fierce as a tiger. Brave as any member of Bones. I know I have to protect her, no matter what kind of trouble she’s in. Once she’s healed, I know she’s going to be mine. I just have to convince her of it. Until then, I’ll protect her, and her kid, with my very life. Once the asshole who did this is dead, then I’ll prove to her why I’m the best choice to be her man.

WARNING: These men play for keeps, and they don’t tolerate men who hurt women and children. They protect their own to the death, and God help anyone who gets in their way. Don’t expect the warm and fuzzies, but you can always expect a HEA and a steamy good time.

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press

or pre-order for February 28th at retailers

   

 

 

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Marteeka Karland

“Trucker! You pussy! Where’s the fuckin’ cage?”

Trucker rolled his eyes and sighed. “Right where you fuckin’ left it, you bastard!” He had no idea who was calling out, but it didn’t much matter to Trucker. It was all pretty much the same every time a member of the club needed a vehicle other than their own bike. He’d long ago given up being really angry. Besides, it was all part of the camaraderie.

“Ain’t you in charge of all the vehicles around here?”

“Yep. Ain’t no Goddamned babysitter though. And I ain’t your Goddamned housekeeper! You take somethin’, you can damned well put it back where you found it.”

“Fucker!”

Trucker continued working on the bike in his shop, a grin tugging at his lips. The men of Bones could act like kids sometimes. It was all part of the fun. They’d had several close calls recently, and the whole of Bones needed to have a little fun.

That was the beauty of Bones. They’d started out as an MC club of men. Now, they were becoming a family complete with wives and children. Trucker was gratified to see Cain and Torpedo encouraging the change. Oh, they still sometimes skirted the edge of legality and wouldn’t hesitate to do what had to be done to protect their own people, but now they did more toward protecting their community. Their reputation was mostly enough to keep out the rabble who thought they’d just run roughshod through Somerset. The ones who weren’t as afraid as they should be soon learned to be.

Thirty minutes later, Torpedo, their vice-president, came into his shop. “Seriously, Trucker. Where’s the fuckin’ RV?”

Trucker didn’t look up from his task. “In the barn where I intend to service it when I get done servicing the bikes in here.”

“Not that RV, the other one.”

He looked up. “The ‘80 Winnebago?”

“Yeah. Couple of the prospects wanted to go huntin’. I told them they could take that one. Figured if they trashed it, you wouldn’t have to kill them over it.”

Trucker snorted but went back to work. “You know better. They take it out, they bring it back like they found it. With everything clean. Including the fuckin’ toilet.”

“Not a problem. Except, we can’t find it.”

“It’s in the other bay in the barn. Serviced it for Cheetah a couple weeks ago. She always puts things back where they belong. Must be the absence of the Y chromosome.”

“Cheetah?”

Trucker paused, looking up at Torpedo. “Yeah. Said she needed it. Didn’t see no reason not to let her have it. Didn’t think she was gonna be out this long, but ain’t none of my business. And I know I saw her just a few days ago.”

“Hmm. Well, it’s gone.”

Trucker shrugged. “Give her a call. See what she’s got goin’ on. She called first dibs though. Ain’t tellin’ her she’s got to come back, and neither are you or any of the others.”

“Hey. I had no intention. She may not be a patched member, but she’s done good by the club and ExFil.”

“Text her. Make sure she actually has it. I’d hate to have to start the fuckin’ day with a killin’ if that fucker Pig took it.”

“I thought Stunner took care of that little fuck?”

“He did. Boy seems to have responded to brute force more than all the fuckin’ talkin’ and smacks upside the head in the world.”

“Good thing Mama was able to patch him up. I was worried about the fucker for a while there.”

Trucker shrugged. “He’d been asking for it for a while. Guess him mouthin’ off to little Suzie wasn’t the worst thing he did, but maybe it will be the last.”

“Boy can’t even look at Stunner without shivering.” Torpedo laughed. “It’s funny as shit.”

“He got what he deserved. I just hope he learns from it.”

“Sent a text. Though, I don’t remember seeing Cheetah today. She’s probably got the thing parked at some community event. Wasn’t there a fun run today? She usually makes hot chocolate and coffee, or lemonade and iced tea for things like that.”

“Good point.” Trucker took out his phone and sent off a quick text to Cheetah behind Torpedo’s before shoving it back in his pocket. She might ignore one text for a few minutes, but not two.

“Bikes look good?” Torpedo nodded to the line of six bikes Trucker was servicing.

“Yep. Routine stuff.” Trucker pointed to Torpedo’s bike. “You could go a little easier on the brakes.”

Torpedo grinned at him. “Now, what fun would that be?”

“No fun if you end up on the pavement.”

“True that.”

Torpedo turned to go, but Trucker called to him. “Let me know when you find Cheetah and my RV.” He didn’t have to wait long. Trucker actually heard the old Winnebago long before he saw the thing.

Picking up a rag to wipe off the wrench he was using, Trucker walked outside his workshop into the brisk, February air. Off in the distance, screaming up the long driveway to the clubhouse, was the missing RV.

“What the everlasting fuck? Torpedo!”

“I see it, Trucker.” Torpedo was just outside the building talking with Bohannon, Sword, and Viper.

“Is that Cheetah?”

“Don’t know. Comin’ in hot though.”

“Look out!”

The Winnebago made a sharp turn and slid to a halt next to the clubhouse in the parking lot. Several men jumped out of the way. A few seconds later, the door to the back flew open. Cheetah stumbled out.

“We need Mama! Help!”

The men headed for the RV. Bohannon yelled for Luna, his woman, to go for Mama and Pops. Trucker ran for the RV along with the others. Something made him… uncomfortable. There was a tingle between his shoulder blades that always meant there was something wrong. What it could possibly be, Trucker couldn’t imagine. Not in their home territory. Cheetah had brought the RV into their clubhouse, so he doubted she’d brought danger to their door.

An ear-piercing shriek came from inside the Winnebago. A woman? The men looked at each other before Bohannon, who was closest, shoved Cheetah out of the way and entered the vehicle. Trucker was right behind him. What he saw froze his blood.

There was a table that folded down into a bed across from the stove and counter. On that bed lay a very pregnant woman who had been stabbed in the abdomen. He knew she’d been stabbed because the knife handle was still sticking out. The blade appeared to have been stabilized, probably by Cheetah, but the wound was steadily and persistently dripping blood onto the thin mattress and down to the floor.

Sweat beaded the young woman’s face, strands of dark auburn hair sticking to her forehead and cheeks. Her expression was one of pain, fear, and grief. Her gaze locked with Trucker’s, sea-green eyes sparkling like diamonds with her tears. “Help me. Please.” Her voice was tremulous. Her lips quivered as tears coursed from her eyes down her temples.

“What the fuck happened here?” Bohannon demanded as he checked the small area for anyone else.

“What’s it look like?” Cheetah bit out. “She’s been fucking stabbed! Get her to Mama!”

Trucker couldn’t seem to move. He was caught in some kind of web as he continued to stare into the young woman’s eyes. He couldn’t register much other than the brilliant green of her eyes and the red blood staining her clothing around the knife.

“Get her inside,” Bohannon ordered. “Luna’s gettin’ Mama, but she can’t do anything out here. Not enough room.”

When Bohannon moved to the girl, Trucker shouldered his way in front of his brother, carefully scooping her up into his arms. Her hands were covered in blood, one shaking horribly where it fluttered close to the knife. He could tell she wanted it out but knew better than to just yank.

“Easy,” he said, as he turned sideways to get them out of the small door. With his size and her advanced pregnancy, they barely fit, and he had to be careful not to jar her too much with that knife stuck in her abdomen. “Just relax if you can. We’ll get you taken care of.”

“No police,” she gasped.

Trucker looked up sharply at Cheetah as he got them in firm ground, out of the RV. She just shook her head before falling into step behind them. Later. He’d deal with that later. Getting the girl to Mama was the main concern at the moment.

“They call me Trucker,” he said as he strode up to the clubhouse in long, confident strides. “What’s your name, little miss?”

“Helen.”

More from Marteeka Karland at Changeling Press …

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.

 

 

Ruthless Sentinel by Lynn Burke #contemporaryromance #crimefiction @AuthorLynnBurke

Title: Ruthless Sentinel
Series: Vicious Vipers 2
Author: Lynn Burke
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: February 20, 2020
Cover Design: Designs by L~
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Working security for my MC brother, I’m tasked with protecting a crooked judge who targets his willful daughter with emotional abuse.
She’s beautiful. She’s confident and has a backbone of steel, but I recognize the pain in her eyes.

She distracts me from my job, and echoes of Pop’s taunts of my being a failure fester in my head.

But I will prove him wrong.

I will withstand our connection, the relentless pull between us.

I will protect her family—her—from the unknown enemy, even if it costs me my soul.

*This is the second book in the Vicious Vipers MC series and may be unsuitable for someone under 18 years of age. HEA guaranteed, however, secondary characters make appearances in other’s stories. Reading in order is recommended.

A blast of cold air hit my face, but my breath caught for an entirely different reason as subtle lilac and vanilla scents swirled around me.
Giada Burtonelli stood on the granite stoop, coat gaping open to reveal a jade-colored dress that wrapped around her body, cradling the type of tits I wanted to fuck. Tiny, tucked waist, perfect for the span of my hands. The skirt’s center split to display the top of her thighs, inches from the apex of where I bet heaven lay in wait—much too fucking short. Toned legs, tanned and smooth, led to spiked heels porn stars wore while getting their asses fucked.
My dick jolted, and I clenched my jaw against the combustion of lust that roared to life in my balls. Lifting my focus off her hot as fuck body to her face didn’t help matters. Eyes, green as spring grass, sharp as a damn Samurai sword, pierced through me with the type of instantaneous connection that robbed a man of his identity. Her full lips parted on a quick intake of air as her focus moved upward over my body to meet my gaze.
I’d seen pictures. Knew she’d be beautiful, but I didn’t expect my breath to be ripped from my lungs or the hairs on my body to stand at attention because of the energy crackling between us.
“You’re late!” Burtonelli barked from behind me.
Giada’s eyes hardened as she lifted her pointed chin, her ruby red lips thinning into a line.
I moved back, fucking tongue-tied.
“Hello to you, too, Father.” Low and husky, her voice thickened my dick even more.
“Could you make an effort to be on time just once, Giada?” Burtonelli moved toward her, his scowl raking down over her. “What the hell are you wearing?”
“Oscar,” she snipped her reply, her eyes flashing.
“You look like a whore. Fitting, I suppose, since you can’t seem to keep your legs closed to every Tom, Dick, and Harry who shows interest in you.”
I blinked, but her façade didn’t crack. Not the first time she’d heard such a thing, I expected as my fists clenched, but not my monkey…
Her father stalked past her. “I specifically said to be on time,” he continued. “You know how important this night is.” Stomping down the granite stairs toward the waiting limo in the circular drive, he muttered about people contributing to his campaign and what they might think of his daughter’s inappropriate attire—and the fact it was too late for her to change.
“You look lovely, dear,” Giada’s mother said, stepping forward, hands outstretched.
Kiss, kiss—fake as hell, before Mrs. Burtonelli hurried after her husband as though he tugged her along with a leash.
Marisa came next to greet her sister, her face pained as though empathetic toward Giada being her father’s verbal punching bag, but it was Cristian’s infectious grin and grabby hands to hug her that brought a smile to Giada’s face.
And Christ, what a smile. Dimple, flashing white teeth, eyes alight with enough joy to slam an uppercut into my gut, stealing my breath again.
I stared as they hugged, jealousy slithering in like a damn snake to wrap coils around my stomach and squeeze. Possessiveness wasn’t something I’d felt before, but fuck if I didn’t recognize its gut-twisting presence—even if it was her brother putting his hands on her.
Stretching my neck side to side, I tore my attention off the two siblings whispering to one another and glanced at Greed who watched me with a smirk on his face.
I scowled and spun to follow Marisa outside. I should have been the first into the night even though Burtonelli’s personal guards already awaited us in the circular drive out front, but everything about Giada distracted me.
My scowl deepened. Focus.
The plan had been for Greed to ride in the limo with the family while I took shotgun in the lead car, but I decided on a change while scanning their gated property in the darkening sky.
Three Burtonelli guards, including their driver and head of security who’d been placed beneath my command for the duration of the contract, stayed positioned where I’d commanded along the drive. All of us were connected by top of the line ear pieces provided by Tellier Security.
The driver stood by the car’s back door as Mrs. Burtonelli slid inside, the other two packing with heads swiveling where they waited by the cars boxing the limo in.
Hairs on my neck stirred, but without any sense of impending danger.
Giada.
I could feel her focus on my back like a soft caress, a whisper of fingertips along my spine, but I didn’t turn, even after the mansion’s front door slammed shut.
Fighting off shivers and my body’s distraction from my job, I strode toward the limo, waving the driver away. Cristian moved into my periphery as I pulled up by the opened door, and he slid in behind his oldest sister.
I feigned disinterest as Giada neared in a cloud of sweet, subtle lilac laced with vanilla.
My hand moved on its own, offering her assistance even though I continued to scan the property, senses beyond alert, my body strung fucking tight as hell.
Her smooth fingers danced across mine, and I gripped tight in sudden need to yank her close. Soothe the hurt her father had inflicted that she’d tried to hide behind a mask of who-gives-a-shit stubbornness.
I turned my focus on her face—she stared up at me, her eyes wide and lips parted. Currents raced through our clasped fingers, straight to my dick.
“Giada!” Her father’s annoyed call from inside the limo jerked her attention off me, and I grit my teeth while she bent down to get into the limo and join her family.
I released my hold on her hand and fought the need to watch her ass as she climbed into the limo. Greed approached, his inquisitive stare on my face.
“I’m riding with them,” I told him, my tone not welcoming argument or question.

© Lynn Burke 2020
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
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COVER REVEAL: Outlaw (Devil’s Fury MC) by Harley Wylde #contemporaryromance

Ever since Wire (Dixie Reapers MC), when Outlaw played such a prominent role in keeping Lavender safe, I’ve been asked for his story. Well, guess what … Today, I’m sharing the cover for Outlaw, which will release March 6th at Changeling Press or March 13th at retailers!

I hope you enjoy today’s cover reveal!

~ Harley ~

 

Broken. Alone. Until an angel showed up and proved I’d only been waiting for her.

 

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Cover Art by Bryan Keller

Elena – I’d lost my parents as a kid, but a reverend and his wife took me in. They were good to me, even if there had never been many hugs. Then they started pushing me to marry a man I didn’t want, so I ran. I should have known the moment I walked through the clubhouse doors of the Devil’s Fury that my life would never be the same. I just didn’t count on a bad boy biker being the one to finally make me feel wanted.

Outlaw – The Devil’s Fury are my family, my brothers, but I’m not the same man I was years ago. I’m scarred and broken, or so I’d thought. The little Latina who came to the clubhouse then pulled out a damn book to read had my attention right away. When someone tries to hurt her, I know that I’ll keep her safe. In fact, I’ll just keep her. She’s awoken a part of me I’d thought I’d lost. Didn’t count on her bringing trouble with her, or nearly losing her, but she’s mine and I will fight for her to the very end.

Add to your Goodreads

 

Did you miss book 1 in the Devil’s Fury MC series? Find out more about Dingo here –> http://bit.ly/2tzp89y

 

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 Harleys writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.
The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing.
You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you’re there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!

You can follow Harley on AmazonTwitter, or Facebook. Get New Release notifications (for US readers) by following Harley on BookBub! Want to talk more about the Dixie Reapers or other Harley books? Join the Wyldlings on Facebook!

 

 

DINGO (Devil’s Fury MC) by Harley Wylde #contemporaryromance #interracialromance @HarleyW_Writer

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Published by Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Meiling — All I’ve ever known is pain. My life has been far from a fairy tale. No parents. No friends. Just an endless nightmare that I can’t wake from. Until the day a man offered me his hand and promised to keep me safe. I’ve never trusted anyone before, but there’s something about him. Maybe it’s insane, but I know he won’t hurt me, and when he puts his arms around me, for the first time in my life I feel loved.

Dingo — I’ve always had a soft spot for women and kids in trouble. One look at Meiling, and I knew I had to protect her at any cost. The beautiful girl with the wounded soul. After all she’s suffered, all I want is to make her smile, make her feel secure, and give her a chance to find happiness. But first, I need to take out the men and women responsible for hurting her. It might get ugly, and messy, but they don’t call me Dingo for nothing. I’m a crazy bastard, and I won’t stop until she’s safe. I just didn’t count on falling for her along the way.

Publishers warning: Meiling’s past isn’t pretty. Dingo and Meiling’s story deals with issues of human trafficking, bureaucratic corruption, and vigilante justice. This book contains darker themes that may trigger some readers.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for February 14th at online retailers

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EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Harley Wylde

I slipped Dingo’s shirt over my head, smoothing it as it fell to my knees. Even though I didn’t have on panties underneath, it was still the most covered I’d been for as long as I could remember. I didn’t see a hamper so I tossed the towels over the top of the shower so they would dry, then cautiously opened the bathroom door. I could hear the TV going and saw a pair of booted feet propped on the coffee table, even though I couldn’t see the rest of him. Scurrying into my room, I shut the door, then stared in amazement.

Sacks. Lots of sacks. They were just from one of those twenty-four-hour stores, but as I peeked into each one, I saw clothes, shoes, and other things that had to be for me. They were all in my size, and Dingo hadn’t mentioned his sister would be visiting. Since they were in the room he’d said I could use, it had to mean they were mine, right? Tears gathered in my eyes. I ripped into the package of panties and slipped on a pair, loving the way they actually covered my ass. The only two pair I owned were thongs and I hated them. The bras were a soft material that wasn’t the least bit transparent, and the clothes…

A sob built in my throat, but I tried so hard to hold it in. Jeans, modest-looking shirts, and shoes that were made for comfort and not to entice men. I lost the battle and tears streaked my cheeks as I cried so hard my throat and chest hurt. Booted steps came running toward the room, and Dingo must have slid to a stop just outside. He didn’t barge in, at least not right away. As my cries grew louder, he pushed the door open and rushed inside.

“Mei? Honey, what’s wrong?” He dropped to his knees next to me.

“I-I-I…” I couldn’t even tell him why I was crying. I just gestured to the bags, then threw my arms around him and held on.

Dingo held me, letting me soak his shirt with my tears, and he gently rubbed my back. Eventually, I got myself under control and took a few shuddering breaths. He rested his cheek on the top of my head, just holding me. Not once did his hands try to roam somewhere inappropriate. Beau was the last person to hold me like this, and I’d only been fourteen. I hadn’t realized until now just how much I missed it. My foster dad’s version of affection was vastly different.

“When’s the last time someone bought something for you?” he asked.

“My foster parents gave me only what they were required to purchase, and the clothes were never like this. No one’s ever been this nice to me.”

“They aren’t much, Mei, but I wanted to make sure you had enough clothes to get by for at least a few days. You’re welcome to use the washer and dryer off the kitchen whenever you need to, and we can always get a few more outfits.”

I fisted his shirt and lifted my head. The concern in his eyes, the gentle way he held me, it was all overwhelming. Men had taken what they wanted from me ever since I’d hit puberty. Not once had I ever kissed someone just because I wanted to, but right now, this very moment, I wanted to kiss Dingo. Before I could second-guess myself, I pressed my lips to his. He tensed and drew back, his gaze searching.

“Mei, you don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” I said. “I did it because I wanted to.”

There was a moment of hesitation in the way he held himself, the look in his eyes, and then he leaned toward me. This time he kissed me. Dingo threaded his fingers into my hair and held me as his mouth devoured mine. I melted against him, feeling desired for the first time in my life. Cherished. Men had wanted me before, but they’d wanted to take not give.

Dingo broke the kiss with a groan and pulled away.

Dingo_HW_Insta

 

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 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.
Find Harley online…

Under a Blue Moon by AJ Downey #contemporaryromance @authorajdowney

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Pre-Order: HTTP://BIT.LY/IDK-9

Don’t get too involved is one of the first things they tell you when you join the force. Jeremy Poe has never had a problem with that one until now. He blames it on the magic and persuasion of the blue moon hanging overhead, or maybe it was just the magic of Saylor Grace herself. Either way, he’s satisfied that this is a gamble totally worth taking.
Speaking of gambles, Saylor’s made a huge one by driving her beat-up old car all the way across the country with nothing in her pocket except her raw talent. It was supposed to be a safe bet, it was supposed to be forever… sometimes, ‘forever,’ has a funny way of working out.

 

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EXCERPT

“You did what and you want me to do what now?” Yale stared at me hard like I’d lost my fucking mind, and I honestly couldn’t tell him I hadn’t. I mean, what I was doing for Saylor was nuts and could cost me everything. I mean, the rip I would get wouldn’t necessarily be a total career-ender, but the trust it could damage with some of the other guys in the rest of the department? That was something you could never get back. You make a big enough questionable decision like this one and you could wind up having every decision questioned.

“Yale, I know –”

“I don’t think you do know Poe!” He went to his office door and shut it and I stood there feeling three inches tall compared to the prosecutor’s five-foot-five even though I was well over six feet. I looked down at him as his gaze smoldered in my direction and a muscle in his jaw ticked.

“Hey, none of you were really like this with Youngblood,” I said with a nervous laugh and his eyes blazed.

“One, Youngblood knew Chrissy. Two, Chrissy was gainfully employed with a degree, and with a roof over her head. She wasn’t some unknown street musician making poor life decisions driving across the country to live with some sight unseen internet boyfriend!”

“Okay, so maybe she was having a solid blonde moment – I mean, she is a blonde but I’ve already agreed to let her stay for a couple more nights.” I was hedging on the timeline hard, but Yale was smokin’ hot and acting more like my dad than my equal and brother. The only reason I wasn’t telling him to go fuck himself right now was that I could see how worried he was and truthfully, I got that.

If my best friend Blaze had come at me with this shit, I probably would have blown a gasket of my own, but there was just something about Saylor Grace and it wasn’t something I could explain. It was something that had to be experienced, and I thought that it was too damn convenient that she was parked outside Yale’s office at lunch and I figured if I could get Yale on my side, the other brothers would follow.

Yale was, after all, one of the toughest nuts out of all of us to crack. That, and I knew, if he just met her – even for only a few minutes – Saylor Grace would have him on her side and she could use every ally she could get in this city on her new start.

“I’m just asking if you could drop this off to her at lunch. If I did it, I’m gonna be late for my shift.”

He breathed in slow, in through his nose and out and grated out, “Fine, but only because I want to have a look at this girl so I can judge for myself and you had better be at church tonight.”

“Whoa, hey,” I said handing over the key on its key chain. “This isn’t club business.”

“Really?” he asked, holding up the fob with the key with the club crest on it. “You’re part of this club, Poe, and being part of this club means we look out for you as much as you look out for the rest of us.” He took a seat on the edge of his desk and I suddenly felt like I’d been called into the principal’s office. I tried not to smirk at the mental image. Now was totally not the time.

“That means, when it looks like one of our members is about to go off the rails it’s our duty and responsibility to get him back on track.” He fixed me with a hard look.

“Look, Yale, I know it sounds completely batshit fucking crazy, but I swear. She’s a good girl. She radiates it.”

Text Copyright © 2020 A.J. Downey

 

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Arkham (Bones MC) by Marteeka Karland #NewRelease #contemporaryromance @marteekakarland

Arkham (Bones MC 5)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Marteeka Karland

Rain — The gangs of the underground can be brutal. I know this well and have the scars to prove it. So when a team of rough-looking men start nosing around the slums of Rockwell, I make it my business to know what they’re up to. One in particular catches my eye. He’s rough and scary looking, but his touch is gentle when it needs to be. He’s older and more experienced in every way than me, but I’m still drawn to him. I’m not sure why, but I want him. And when I let him take me, I’ll savor the experience until it’s time to go.

Arkham — The little pixie warrior is a conundrum if ever there was one. She’s strong and capable but scarred inside and out. I can’t fix what’s broken inside her, but I can share her burdens and make her part of my circle. I’ll take her with me, with Bones MC. She’ll be protected there.

But who’s gonna protect her from me?

**WARNING** Bones is a rough MC. They can be violent, but they’re protective to a fault. The men love sex and the women don’t shy away from it. If you think you can handle their brand of loving… read on!

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for January 31st at retailers

   

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2020 Marteeka Karland

“What the fuck are we still doin’ here? We cleared this sector yesterday.” Arkham wasn’t usually one to complain, but this micromanaging shit was for the birds.

“You pay, we come play.” Torpedo was the top man in the field on this mission. He and Arkham took point as they walked down the street. They weren’t in Afghanistan or Tripoli, or Ukraine. They were in a moderately sized city in the good ole U. S. of A. called Rockwell. ExFil had been hired by a group of disgustingly rich hero wannabes to help locate a runaway. Kid had been missing for three days, and his mother, who was a member of the staff of said disgustingly rich hero wannabes, was more than frantic. They insisted the child was in this area of the city. How they knew that he didn’t know, but orders were orders.

“How the fuck do these guys know that kid’s in this part of town?” Goose had been vocal about his protests from the get-go. All of it because of the micromanaging. “We’ve searched high and low. The kid ain’t here.”

“It’s not like we’ve got anything else to do. We’re gettin’ paid by the hour. They want us to look here, we look here.” Shadow was the newest patched member of Bones and probably the most levelheaded and calm person Arkham knew. “We just flex some muscle if we see anything suspicious and be ready to bean someone if they need it.”

“Yeah. Way wide latitude,” Arkham grumbled. “I don’t like this.”

“Cain knows these guys personally,” Torpedo said. “If he says go, we go. We follow orders.”

“Ain’t never been good at following orders.” The back of Arkham’s neck was tingling like a son of a bitch. Never a good sign. “’Specially not from no pretty-boy, badass wannabe.”

“My understanding,” Torpedo explained, “is that these guys are the real deal. Seems Cain served briefly with Azriel Ivanovich. He’s part owner of Argent Tech.”

“The company that makes all those pretty gadgets Data is always forcing us to use? I hate the bastard already.” Arkham wasn’t opposed to technology per se, he just hated being forced into it. “Most of that shit is just used to dumb down the real work. I mean, I can fuckin’ shoot straight and follow a compass. And I don’t need a fuckin’ leash shoved up my ass in the form of one of those fancy GPS things he hardwired into our radios and phones. Hell, even our fuckin’ bikes are tracked. Where’s the end?”

“You’ll have to take that up with Data and Cain.” Torpedo shrugged, his body posture letting Arkham know Torpedo was just as vigilant as he was, even while carrying on the conversation. “I just make sure you use it.”

“Next thing you know he’ll be wantin’ to tag us with some kind of chip under our skin.”

“It’s already being discussed.”

Arkham stopped dead in his tracks. “I will bust a motherfucker up.”

Torpedo looked over his shoulder, grinning. “Gotcha.”

Everyone laughed.

“Motherfucker.”

Though he continued the disgruntled conversation, Arkham was only half paying attention to his brothers. Their actual mission was extremely vague. All they seemed to do was patrol the poorest section of the city and give people mean looks. They’d questioned every single person they saw, but no one had seen the boy. Arkham had no idea if he believed any of them or not.

The streets were mostly dark at night. Though the streetlights were replaced almost daily, by the end of the day they’d all be broken out again. Drug deals routinely went down in rundown buildings in the process of being renovated, though the team from ExFil had stopped some of it during their search. Drug sales continued regardless. Arkham thought Bones more suited to this than ExFil, but their employer had insisted on the paramilitary version. While Bones was the rough and ready MC, ExFil was the more disciplined and civilian accepted military-like organization run by Cain. This city needed the military, not the outlaws. Conditions had seemed to improve somewhat, but there was still a long way to go. Oh, well. Not his turf. Not his problem.

“How the fuck did a place like Argent Tech end up in this shit hole? It’s no bigger than Somerset and has way less to offer. Not to mention at least a third of the city is nothing more than slums. These people certainly don’t benefit from the tech giant.” Shadow had that part right.

“I agree, brother,” Arkham said. “Not sure what our goal here is, but it seems like more of a policing effort than searching for a missing kid. I’m ready to tell ‘em all to shove it up their ass.”

“The point is for us to give Ivanovich and his associates the help they need in locatin’ a missin’ child. And they are tryin’ to better the place.”

“You’re just trying to defend Cain’s decision to take this job, Torpedo,” Arkham groused. “You don’t like it any more than we do. If they’d let us do this our way, we might have found the kid already. That’s what’s pissin’ me off.”

“Ain’t sayin’ you’re right. Ain’t sayin’ you’re wrong. But if you don’t shut the fuck up about it, I will turn Suzie on your ass so quick it will make your head spin. Stunner might have let her use most of the red and green glitter on him, but I know where there’s a whole fuckin’ tub of pink glitter, and I’ll point her in the right direction.”

That got a laugh from everyone. Evan Arkham snorted. “Harsh, brother,” he grumbled.

They passed the next hour in silence. Still, that tingle between Arkham’s shoulder blades persisted. They were being watched. Had been since they’d gotten off the Goddamned plane. “When I find that son of a bitch, Imma throw him a beatin’.”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” Goose had turned and was facing away from them now, guarding their six as they slowed their trek down the sidewalk.

“Someone’s been watchin’ us since the second we got off the fuckin’ plane.” Arkham tried to watch his area, but he knew the threat was from above. Now that he’d mentioned it, he gave up all pretense of pretending not to be actively seeking their stalker. He raised his gun to the rooftops, putting his infrared goggles in place. Everyone followed his lead.

“I thought I was just being paranoid,” Goose muttered.

“No.” Arkham had learned long ago to listen when that sensation was trying to tell him something.

Just as they rounded the corner, Arkham spotted him. “Got the bastard,” he muttered. “Two o’clock, theater roof. He’s got a rifle scope, but I can’t confirm a weapon.”

“Copy that,” Torpedo said. “Shadow, you and Arkham fall back. See if you can go up the back way and get him from behind. We’ll patrol the alley to the west. If he follows us, should be easy pickin’s for you guys.”

“Radios on,” Arkham ordered. “I’m not losing anyone to a rookie mistake.”

“Got it,” Shadow and Goose confirmed on top of each other.

“Up the east side. And don’t kill him unless he deserves it.”

“He already deserves it for giving me a headache, “Arkham said, readying his rifle.

“Bastard has it coming.” Torpedo didn’t argue. Arkham was a hard ass, but he wouldn’t make a kill unless it was warranted. They all knew it and didn’t insult him by suggesting otherwise.

Shadow was the best partner he could have for a situation like this. The man’s special talent was disappearing into the shadows. Hence his name. Arkham was good, but he let Shadow take the lead on this one. If Arkham was spotted, Shadow would already be in position to defend him. It hurt to admit the big man was better than Arkham at anything, but truth hurts sometimes. Only meant Arkham would be working on that particular skill set even harder.

It took them seven minutes to gain the roof and another one to lay eyes on the target. He was slender, small. A boy? Arkham stayed put for several minutes. Shadow followed his lead, not breaking cover before Arkham gave the word.

The kid followed the perimeter of the roof, never taking his eyes from the team below. If he knew they were light two men, the kid didn’t seem overly concerned. He stopped right next to Arkham. He could have reached out and touched the boy. Two more steps, and he’d run into Arkham. Instead, he stopped, never taking his eye from the scope.

“You’re all clear,” the kid said. “They’ve made a circle around the theater. All four of them. If you’re going to take them, now’s the time.”

Three things registered for Arkham. First, his team was about to be ambushed by an unknown number of hostiles. Second, the kid wasn’t a boy. It was a girl. Third, she was deliberately deceiving whomever she was talking to.

 

More from Marteeka Karland at Changeling Press …

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.