Bohannon by Marteeka Karland and an interview with the author! #MCromance #bikers #NewAdult #ActionAdventure @MarteekaKarland

Everyone give a warm welcome to author Marteeka Karland!

Marteeka is joining us today for a quick interview and to tell us about her latest Changeling Press release — Bohannon! But before we move on to the delicious MC Romance she has for us, let’s find out a little more about the author.

 

Has writing always been part of your life or did you just fall into it?

I started writing when I was in the 3rd grade. A Halloween story we were told to write as a fun project in our Reading class. My teacher loved it and while everyone else wrote like a paragraph, I wrote a while page front and back. I never stopped. It just took another thirty years for me to finish my first book. I’ve been published now for exactly sixteen years.

If you could do it all over again, would you change anything?

Definitely. More things than I can say. I think writing is like anything else in life. It’s a lesson in successes and failures, most of which can’t be predicted. I’ve had my share of both. The only thing I can say with certain is I’ve managed to surround myself with incredible writers along the journey. Some of which are so very willing to help in everything from proofreading to plot grid construction help, to marketing, to just being a shoulder to cry one when things go horribly wrong and that new release sells 10 copies. 🙂

What different genres have you written over the years and do you have a favorite?

That’s a tough one. Probably Science Fiction Romance. I love the idea of aliens in general. It’s even better if they’re the hard-bodied sexy kind who appreciate their women. 🙂 With science fiction, there are always rules to follow (the science part) but there are limitless possibles with what you can do with it. I’m hoping to make it back to science fiction and paranormal one day.

What’s your favorite type of hero to write?

I like the strong Alpha type. But I also like him to fall hard for his woman. He must be super protective and helpless in the face of her displeasure or, God forbid, her tears. I especially like it when he fights his attraction to her. At least for a while. I mean, it just makes his surrender that much sweeter.

Is there a common theme or trope that tends to carry through your various books? Or is there one you enjoy writing more than others?

p style=”text-align: justify;”>Soldiers. I LOVE soldiers. Military. There is nothing hotter than a take-charge guy in uniform. (In books. Those real-life types tend to be major assholes.) Fortunately, I’m a woman. I make them Alpha without being complete assholes to their women. Everyone else is on their own. 🙂 I like to write heroines who need some kind of rescue but are still fighting to make a place for themselves. I like for her to need her man’s help, but to prove to him she can survive without it. Oxymoron?? maybe. But it’s MY imagination! lol

As to other things in my writing, you may notice that the main characters in my books all drive some kind of Ford vehicle. That’s by design. 😀

Can you tell us about your current series? Do you have a set number of them planned?

Bones MC is the series. I’ve currently got three books complete (Cain, Bohannon, and Sword) with a fourth in the works (Viper.) As to how many I have planned, I suppose that depends on how well they are received. As long as readers are enjoying them, I’ll keep writing them. 🙂

 

Thank you, Marteeka, for joining us today! And now… I’d like to introduce you to her latest book — Bohannon!

 

Bohannon (Bones MC 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Marteeka Karland

Luna: Never in a million years did I think I’d meet up with my childhood hero like this. Beaten down and scared out of my mind, my heart dropped when I realized who had me. I’ve never been so humiliated in my life, but Gage Bohannon the man was even harder to resist than the ridiculous fantasy I’d held in my mind.

Bohannon: I’ve never kept a woman who don’t want to be kept. But I’ve made more than one good girl turn rogue. If I had any decency in me at all, I’d have locked her in my room and left her alone. Instead, I’ll take whatever she wants to give me and coax a few things she doesn’t.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order for October 25th at retailers

   

 

EXCERPT

 

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Marteeka Karland

Gage Bohannon swept the area for more of the unwelcomed club in Bones territory. The local club had gotten hit first, but Bones had finished all of them. By his reckoning, any club selling drugs in their territory deserved whatever they got. Bones was many things, but they weren’t drug dealers, pimps, or a distributor of firearms. They weren’t law-abiding citizens — as evidenced by the slaughter tonight — but they weren’t scum of the earth either.

“One alive in the truck,” Deadeye’s voice came through the earpiece connected to his radio. “Female. Her hands are still on the steering wheel, which is why I left her alive. There is a gun in the vehicle with her. Along with the hand holding it. Orders?”

“Hold. If she moves her hands or in any way attempts to get that gun, shoot her.”

“Copy.” He hated giving Deadeye an order to kill a woman, but he wasn’t compromising anyone’s safety. They’d started this. They’d finish it.

“Keep your hands on that fucking steering wheel,” he bit out. “Don’t fucking test me or the sniper on you will kill you before I ever give the order.” The girl whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut but otherwise didn’t move. “Are you armed?”

She took a deep breath, but didn’t let go of the wheel or open her eyes. “There’s a gun on the floor around my feet somewhere, but that’s it. And it wasn’t mine. I think the owner left his hand with the gun.”

“Good,” he said. “You told the truth about that weapon. Are there any others? Knives? Anything?”

“No, sir.” Her voice wavered in her fear. Again, that was good. She understood the danger she was in.

“What club do you represent? You don’t have colors of any kind. Are you a member? A chaser? An ole lady?” Bohannon had a funny feeling at the nape of his neck. A prickly sensation he knew never to ignore. He didn’t think there was danger or his brothers would have known it. It was the girl. Something about her…

“My brother owes Scars and Bars money for drugs. I’m here in his stead. My service for his life.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not with them in any way, nor do I want to be. I just want to get out of this alive so I can tell my brother to go to hell.” Fear was making her brave. It surprised Bohannon how much he liked that. It made him want to smile when the circumstances didn’t exactly call for it.

“Keep your hands on the wheel until I open the door. I want you to step out. Keep your hands up and open. Keep it slow. Do you understand?”

“I’m scared, not stupid,” she snapped, then immediately winced. “Sorry.”

Bohannon opened the door to the truck, his gun firmly aimed at her head. If she so much as twitched, he’d kill her himself, saving Deadeye the grief. The girl moved carefully, as he’d instructed. Deliberately. She knew she was in danger. Knew not to fuck with them. That knowledge would make life easier on all of them. The overhead light on the old Ford was long out so there wasn’t much of her features he could see.

She uncurled her fingers from the steering wheel slowly, keeping her hands open and at the same level. One leg slid out to place her foot on the ground. Then the other. All the while she never once looked at him. Fear was etched in every move she made. Sweat ran down her arms in streams as if she’d just stepped from a shower.

Once outside, she stood still, hands still in front of her, fingers splayed wide. Bohannon shut the door with a sharp shove of his hand.

“Turn around. Hands on the truck.”

She did as told, not hesitating in the least. Her willingness to comply with orders surprised Bohannon. Most mules were just as stubborn as their namesakes. This one seemed more resigned than anything else. She acted as if she had nothing to hide. Maybe she didn’t. Or, more likely, she hoped to use her wiles to get herself out of a jam.

As he carefully patted her down for weapons, Bohannon couldn’t help but notice her as a woman. She was slight in stature; barely over five feet and svelte of frame. He tried to be as non-personal as possible, but it was difficult when the swell of her breast was just above his palm as he checked her belly for weapons against her skin. His hands were big, and she was so tiny his palm nearly spanned her from side to side yet the curve of her ass was fleshy and rounded, made to tempt a man.

But he was Gage Bohannon. His club name had been Slayer before his brothers sought to mellow him after that stupid TV show became popular, calling him by his last name because the lead character’s name was the same. He might enjoy women, might be tempted to do wicked things with the forbidden female from time to time, but he was always in complete control of himself. Now was no exception. She was tempting, true enough. But he had a job to do.

Except his cock had other ideas. Bohannon swore to himself, easily envisioning grinding his hardening erection against that savory ass. He could tell she was affected by his nearness. Either she wasn’t adept at staying in control or, more likely, she thought to tempt him with sex. If she did, he’d oblige her. Then take her to his president anyway.

“What are you going to do with me?” Her voice shook, her fear obvious, yet she stayed put, not turning or looking over her shoulder.

“Take you back to our president. We’ll discuss the events of the evening then decide what to do next.” Not that he needed to give her an explanation.

“Will you kill me?”

“Only if Cain orders it.”

She whimpered, her body trembling beneath his touch. She was truly scared, not trying to garner his attention. She hadn’t offered herself. Hadn’t made an overt move of aggression or seduction. So what was her game?

“What can I do to stay alive?”

Bohannon thought about that. What could she do? “Depends on what Cain decides. If you’re looking to convince someone of your innocence, it will be him. I warn you, though, he never goes easy on clubs doing business in our territory without permission. Anything he does to you will be to send a message to Scars and Bars.”

“I don’t mean anything to them. If he wants leverage on Scars and Bars he won’t get it with me. I’m only here to protect my brother.”

“Your fate is in Cain’s hands,” he said. “Accept it. And whatever you do, tell the truth. If you lie, he’ll know. You won’t get a second chance.”

She turned to look at him then. Just a movement of her head, her long midnight hair falling over the other shoulder. When those intensely dark eyes met his, glittering like onyx in the moonlight, Bohannon nearly doubled over as a punch of lust hit him low and mean. He couldn’t see her clearly, but there was something disturbing and familiar about her.

“You have to understand, I have nothing to do with the club. My brother owes them drug money. They used me to pay his debt by hauling their… product here.”

Bohannon fought off his instinct, which was to comfort and protect her. If ever a female needed protection it was this one. Such a small woman in the middle of a biker war? She was doomed from the beginning. Ruthlessly, he took her wrists and zip-tied them behind her back. “Answer any question Cain asks you truthfully and completely. That’s the best advice I can give you.”

“And if he doesn’t ask me anything? If he’s already decided?” Her eyes swam with unshed tears. Her skin glistened with sweat.

“Then he already has the answers he needs. I’ll tell him you cooperated in every way with us, assuming you continue to do so. If he decides you need to die, I can promise you’ll never know it’s coming, and it will be a clean, quick death.”

A little sob escaped before she could press her lips together tightly. She ducked her head, breaking her entrancing stare, but not before she got under Bohannon’s skin. Why did he feel like he knew her? Lord knew he’d never forget a woman like her, so he couldn’t have met her.

Everyone called him Bohannon, but his jacket proclaimed him Slayer because, of all his biker brothers, he had the most kills. He was the enforcer of the club. If something needed doing, he was the one who did it. That way, if the police caught him, they could trace nothing back to anyone else in the club. He’d take full responsibility and shift blame away from his brothers. The name had fit him more than any other, so he thought. This girl, however tested his belief in his job. Could he kill her if Cain ordered it?

“Promise me that if Cain orders you to kill me, you’ll at least look into helping my brother.”

“Can’t do that.”

“His name is Markus Newton. He’s not a bad man, just… self-absorbed.”

Bohannon lost his breath. Before he could stop himself, he snatched a penlight from his utility belt and shone it in the girl’s face. Markus Newton! A name from his past. Now here was a woman from his past. It had to be. But Markus was more than ten years this girl’s senior! Her older brother! That son of a bitch should be protecting her, not the other way around.

“Luna?” Her head snapped up, eyes squinting at the bright light. “Son of a bitch.” She tried to see past the light but, of course, she couldn’t. “Luna Martin?”

 

More from Marteeka 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.

Want to see what’s up with Marteeka? Check out her website at www.marteekakarland.com or join her Yahoo! group at marteekakarland-subscribe@yahoogroups.com. Marteeka always welcomes e-mail from her readers. You can reach her at mkarland@gmail.com. Check out Marteeka’s blog here: marteekakarland.blogspot.com.

 

Wire (Dixie Reapers MC) by Harley Wylde #MCromance #bikerbooks #Bikers #NewAdult #RomanceBooks #NewRelease @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

HW_DixieReapers13_bryan

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Lavender: My parents weren’t the type to win any awards, but I did learn a few things. Like how to read lines of code and get through the backdoor of pretty much any site or program. I also learned about the man my mother had dated when she’d met my dad, someone who has intrigued me for years. I never thought I’d get the chance to meet him, until my parents end up dead and I can’t think of anyone else who might be able to help. I know too much, know my parents’ deaths weren’t an accident, and now I’ve been targeted. If the infamous Voodoo Tracer can’t help me, then I’m screwed.

Reality is so much better than fantasy, and with one look, I know the reason I haven’t dated is because I was waiting. For him.

Wire: I never really expected my past to come knocking at the front gates, nor did I expect it to be in such a sexy package. Lavender isn’t what I’d call a siren, but with her glasses perched on her nose, her messy hair, curvy figure, and adorable tees, she’s exactly what I want and don’t need. A nerdy, geeky, superintelligent woman who craves me as much as I crave her. So I did what any man would do… I claimed her. Now she’s mine, and if an enemy from my past thinks he can hurt her, I’d like to see him try. He might have killed her parents, but I will destroy anyone who tries to take her from me.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or Pre-Order for October 11th at retailers

   

 

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Harley Wylde

Lavender

The infamous hacker, or more accurately cracker, Voodoo Tracer, hadn’t been all that hard to find. My mother had always said if anything happened to her I should track down the guy she’d dated before marrying my dad. I’d heard the story a million times, about how they’d all been friends but she’d fallen for Dad and hurt the guy she’d been dating. He’d left and never returned. Mom had lost track of him, but it hadn’t take much digging for me to find his current location, which told me he wasn’t really hiding. A guy like him didn’t leave a door open unless he wanted someone to use it.

While my mom and dad were hackers and worked for a lot of companies, trying to find the weak spots in their security so the companies could improve them, men like Voodoo Tracer took advantage of those weak spots to get whatever information they wanted. Mom had never approved of Voodoo’s need to crack government and banking sites. From what she’d said, back then, he never took anything vital. He’d mostly done it because he could. I couldn’t say for certain what he’d been up to lately.

I didn’t really walk either path, but tended to dabble a bit in both. Like the infamous Voodoo, I mostly liked to see how far I could get somewhere I shouldn’t be. If I were as nice as my mom and dad, I’d then turn that information over to the companies so they could keep other people out. Then again, they weren’t exactly paying me for my help, so why give it? I wasn’t an angel by any means, but I wasn’t precisely a devil either. I operated in those murky shades of gray.

I’d known how easy it would be for some to trace my phone, or the built-in GPS on my car, so I’d left both behind. The bus hadn’t been the most comfortable option to ride to Alabama, and I’d paid cash so there wouldn’t be a credit card trail, but now that I was here, I had to wonder if I’d made a huge mistake. The walk to the Dixie Reapers compound wasn’t that far, but the place seemed a bit imposing as I approached the gates. I’d walked what felt like miles of fenceline, although that was surely not the case. Razor wire topped it, and I had to wonder just what they were trying to keep out. Or was it more what they wanted to keep in?

The guy standing guard didn’t seem much older than me, and I noticed the way he scanned me from head to toe. I probably wasn’t the type of woman who typically came to this sort of place. My Converse were well-worn, my jeans ripped along my thighs and knees, and I had on my favorite Dark Crystal T-shirt, which had faded over time. I hadn’t thought much about my appearance and had tossed my hair up in a messy bun. With my thick-lensed glasses perched on my nose, I probably looked like I should be in school right now. If it weren’t for my curves, I’d never pass for my real age.

“You must be lost,” the man said, then pointed back behind me. “Town is back that way.”

“I’m not lost.” I hitched my bag higher on my shoulder. “I’m here to see Voodoo Tracer.”

The man stared and rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “No one here by that name. So I think you really are lost.”

My brow furrowed. I’d assumed his club would know him by that name. From what little research I’d managed before taking this trip, I’d learned that some clubs preferred to use a road name and kept their real names private. If Voodoo followed that belief, this guy may not know his birth name. It was foolish to think whatever the club called him would be the same name he went by when he was cracking codes.

“Hang on. I have a picture, but it’s really old.” I slid the strap off my shoulder and dug in my backpack. I withdrew the picture of Voodoo with my mom, Seraph, and my dad, Doc Paradox. I’d stared at this picture a lot over the years. I’d found it shoved into a box in the top of Mom’s closet a while back. The ginger-haired young man had drawn my attention. He couldn’t have been older than sixteen or seventeen at the time it was taken, but even back then he’d been more than just cute. I knew he’d be my parents’ age now, but I’d often wished I could meet a guy like him.

Showing the picture to the guy, his eyes went wide.

“Holy shit, is that Wire?” he asked.

“Um. Maybe. I don’t know his club name. I only know his hacker name.”

The man nodded. “That would be Wire, then. I’ll have to call him down here. I’m not letting you in uninvited. You don’t exactly look like the type to party at the clubhouse.”

If that was code for sleep with random men, then no, I wasn’t. Not even a little. I took a step back as he made his call and took the time to check out the place behind the fence. There was a building with Dixie Reapers across the top in neon letters, and a lot of houses down either side of the road. As I strained to get a better look, I thought I saw a playground, but that was ridiculous. What type of biker compound had a playground? The fatigue must be getting to me. It seemed I was now hallucinating.

“He asked who else is in the picture,” the guy said.

“Tell him Seraph and Doc Paradox.” I swallowed hard. “They were my parents.”

He relayed the information, and I hoped that Wire would come and hear me out. If things had really ended as badly as my mom had said, then he might refuse to see me. She’d not gone into a lot of detail, just said she’d picked my dad over Voodoo. Knowing my mother, there was a good chance she’d omitted part of the story. Coming here was a gamble I’d been willing to take. Whatever Mom and Dad had been into, it had gotten them killed. Thanks to me nosing around, I now worried that I might meet the same fate. I didn’t know anything about the man Wire was now, but the kid who had grown up with my parents had been the type to help those in need, even if he hadn’t done it the legal way. I was counting on that still being true.

The rumble of a motorcycle started out faint and then got louder. I saw a rider with copper-colored hair approaching from down the road and as he came to a stop on the other side of the gate, my heart flipped, flopped, then took off at a gallop. Holy hell! Mom had thrown over this guy for my dad? What the hell had she been thinking? He didn’t even remotely look like a hacker. Nor was he the gangly teen from the photo I’d brought. Yeah, he’d been handsome back then, but now? Shit. I was almost certain my panties were getting wet just looking at him. His heather gray tee stretched tight across his broad chest, and the leather cut just added to the sex appeal. The denim hugging his thighs was as worn as mine, with a few well-placed holes, and did nothing to hide how muscular he was, especially for a geeky computer nerd.

Definitely nothing like my dad. I’d loved my father, but time hadn’t been kind to him. He’d had lines around his eyes, and what my mother fondly called his spare tired around the middle, from long days and nights at the computer. This guy didn’t have that problem. Hell, he didn’t even look my parents’ age.

Wire swung a leg over his bike and came closer, removing the sunglasses that had shielded his eyes from me. Green, and so damn pretty. It was a sin for a man to have eyelashes that long and thick. Dammit. My nipples were getting stiff. I swallowed hard, wondering why my body was betraying me. I’d never had a physical response to a guy, even when I thought they were hot. Until now. The beard covering his jaw made my fingers itch to reach out and touch it. Would it be coarse or soft? I’d always had a weak spot for gingers, and he had to be the sexiest one I’d ever seen.

 

Find more from Harley at Changeling Press …

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.

Harley’s Website: https://harleywylde.com/

 

Demon by Tory Richards #MCromance #bikerbooks #NewRelease

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000447_00006]

 

Book 2 of a 5-book MC romance series is now available in ebook and paperback! The story of the Desert Rebels continues through all five novels but the hero and heroine in each book get their HEA at the end of every story. Each story can be read as a standalone but you may enjoy the series more if you read them in the order they are written.

 

Cole – Book 1 (Cole and Raven)

Demon – Book 2 (Demon and Bobbie)

LD – Book 3 (LD and Jolene) 2020

Sax – Book 4 (Sax and Holly) 2020

Bull – Book 5 (Bull and Viola) 2020

 

Demon – He’s a known womanizer and a man with secrets, but he runs Desert Rebels with an iron fist. He had an old lady once, and he doesn’t want another one. A spirited little club girl catches his eye, but fear of commitment forces him to push her away. Trouble and betrayal in the MC brings them back together, leaving him with a decision to make–either trust her and claim her, or send her away for good.

Bobbie – She’s a club girl whose purpose is to satisfy the men, but there’s only one man she wants–the president of Desert Rebels. He avoids her until the pain of seeing him with every other woman causes her to leave. But leaving doesn’t keep her from getting into trouble with the club, and soon she’s right back where she started. Distrust and betrayal comes between them, but Bobbie’s determined to prove to Demon that she can be the old lady that he needs.

 

Excerpt –

I dropped the towel and reached for my panties.

“You’ve lost weight.”

I screamed and grabbed my tee, bringing it up to cover me. My eyes darted to the bed where the voice had come from, finding Demon sitting up against the headboard with his long legs crossed at the ankles. Relief and anger vied for first place in my emotions, but anger won out.

“What the fuck, Demon?! What are you doing here? How did you get in?” I watched him like a hawk as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and rose to his feet. A few short steps and he was stopping in front of me. I forced myself to hold his sharp, assessing gaze.

His eyes dropped down the front of me, burning me with their intensity. “Get dressed. You’re going with me.”

His arrogance fueled my anger. “No. I’m not.” I so wanted to slip into my tee, feeling exposed in spite of the fact that I was holding the shirt against my body. He’d seen me naked before, but this situation felt far more intimate than when he’d watched as I’d tried to wash Roland off of me. His eyes hadn’t held that predatory, hungry look like they were now.

He took a threatening step closer. I took a step back, coming up against my dresser. I caught my breath, feeling a rush of heat envelop me. I did not want Demon; I didn’t want him to touch me. I hated him.

He leaned down close to my face.

 “I caught you with our enemies, bitch. Considering the trouble we’ve had and the fact that you conveniently left the club right before all that shit went down, you look guilty as fuck.”

“You’re crazy!” I hissed. “My leaving had nothing to do with what happened at the clubhouse, or with your brothers. As for finding me with your enemies, they took me, asshole. One of those cages was mine!” I was trembling with emotion.

Something flickered in his eyes. “That may be, but there’s still too many unanswered questions right now. Until I get to the fucking truth you’ll be a guest of Desert Rebels.”

“Fuck you, Demon! Get out!”

“Maybe if you hadn’t run, I wouldn’t be here now,” he growled, so close to me I could feel his breath against my face.

 

Links:

Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07VNGHDS3/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i1

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B07VNGHDS3/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i5

Universal – https://books2read.com/u/mv2K72

 

Author Bio

Tory Richards is an Amazon bestselling author who writes smut with a plot. Born in Maine, she’s lived most of her life in Florida where she went to school, married, and raised her daughter. She’s retired from Disney and spends her time with family and friends, traveling, and writing.

 

Website/blog – http://www.toryrichards.com

Contact – toryrichards60@gmail.com

Quarterly newsletter sign-up – http://gem.godaddy.com/signups/15f6d531db1d4b01805ac099ec526562/join

 

 

 

 

COVER REVEAL: Wire (Dixie Reapers MC) by Harley Wylde #MCromance #coverreveal #Bikers #NewAdult #RomanceBooks #preorder @Harley@_Writer

HW_DixieReapers13_bryan

 

When my past came knocking, I wasn’t expecting it to arrive in such a tempting package.

 

Lavender – My parents weren’t the type to win any awards, but I did learn a few things. Like how to read lines of code and get through the backdoor of pretty much any site or program. I also learned about the man my mother had dated when she’d met my dad, someone who has intrigued me for years. I never thought I’d get the chance to meet him, until my parents end up dead and I can’t think of anyone else who might be able to help. I know too much, know my parents’ death wasn’t an accident, and now I’ve been targeted. If the infamous Voodoo Tracer can’t help me, then I’m screwed.

Reality is so much better than fantasy, and with one look, I know the reason I haven’t dated is because I was waiting. For him.

Wire – I never really expected my past to come knocking at the front gates, nor did I expect it to be in such a sexy package. Lavender isn’t what I’d call a siren, but with her glasses perched on her nose, her messy hair, curvy figure, and adorable tees, she’s exactly what I want and don’t need. A nerdy, geeky, super intelligent woman who craves me as much as I crave her. So I did what any man would do… I claimed her. Now she’s mine, and if an enemy from my past thinks he can hurt her, I’d like to see him try. He might have killed her parents, but I will destroy anyone who tries to take her from me.

 

ADD TO GOODREADS

 

Pre-Order for October 11th at:

Amazon / iBooks

B&N and Kobo preorder coming closer to October

 

 

Scratch/Havoc (Duet) by Harley Wylde #MCromance #NewAdult #SingleMom #paperback @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

Scratch/Havoc (Duet) (Dixie Reapers MC Box Sets 6)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Scratch (Devil’s Boneyard MC 2)
Clarity: I’ve been on my own since I was sixteen, and I’ve fought to make a life for myself and my son. Being homeless certainly wasn’t in my life plan, so when a gruff, sexy biker offers help, how can I possibly say no? I know deep down he’d never hurt us. It just never occurred to me I’d fall in love.

Scratch: The young woman and kid I find sleeping outside my club’s chop shop make me feel things I shouldn’t. She’s younger than my daughter, but there’s fire in her soul, and she 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? 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.

Havoc (Devil’s Boneyard MC 3)
Jordan: I spent a year in prison for a crime I admittedly did commit, but I had a good reason. My brothers have abandoned me, and there’s nowhere for me to go. Until the hottest man I’ve ever met decides to be my knight on shining Harley. Havoc isn’t at all what I’m used to, but maybe he’s just what I need.

Havoc: When I find out the same prison that nearly killed me was trying to cover up another incident, one involving the woman I can’t stop staring at — fury flows through me. Whatever it takes, I’ll keep her safe. Whoever hurt her will be coming, and I’m ready. No one touches what’s mine, and Jordan may not realize it but I’m not letting her go.

 

Get it TODAY at Changeling Press

or pre-order the ebook for September 20th at retailers:

   

Also available in paperback!

 

Praise for Scratch (Devil’s Boneyard MC 2)

“I’m glad that Scratch found someone. He seemed so lonely… Clarity’s life was so messed up. Thank goodness for the Devil’s Boneyard MC and Scratch. They set everything to rights and then some. These two were so meant for one another.”

— 5 Stars from Jan’s Reviews, Goodreads Review

“Harley has done it again! This was one of my favorites of hers and if I could have given it 10 stars I would have! Hot, steamy and just the perfect amount of dirty with a younger woman, older man whirlwind MC romance! I can’t wait for what’s next!”

– 5 Stars from Mama Little, iBooks Review

 

Praise for Havoc (Dixie Reapers MC 3)

“Mrs. Wylde has really outdone herself this time! This book is simply amazing! I love tough as nails Jordan, she was perfect for Havoc. This book had everything: mystery, chemistry and action. And not to mention sexy times! I hope you continue to write all about of the other men in the club, especially Cinder. I am eager to get his story! Grab this book now, you won’t be disappointed at all. And if you haven’t checked out the Dixie Reapers you definitely need too!”

— 5 Stars from AmandaGail, Amazon Review

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Harley Wylde
Excerpt from Scratch

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.”

More from Harley at Changeling Press …

International Best Selling 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.

Where to find Harley Wylde…

Harley’s Website

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RENEGADE (Devil’s Boneyard MC) by Harley Wylde #MCromance #bikerbooks #BIKERS #NewAdult #singlemom #NewRelease #preorder @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

 

Renegade (Devil’s Boneyard MC)

by Harley Wylde

Publisher: Changeling Press

Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

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ABOUT THE BOOK

Darby: At fifteen, I thought I knew everything. Having been in foster care all my life, not much scared me. I’d already faced monsters parading around as upstanding citizens. But life hadn’t prepared me for a biker who would lure me in, kidnap me, and abuse me for five years. I got Fawn out of it, my precious girl, and a lot of bad memories. Being tossed into a dumpster and left to die wasn’t at the top of my list, but Renegade found me. I’ve never had a man be kind to me or my daughter before — especially not a biker — and I’m not sure what to think. I want to trust him, but I don’t want to give him my heart only to have him turn out like every other man I’ve ever known. It would break me.

Renegade: I lost my family a long time ago, and I vowed I’d never have another. I still have Nikki, my baby sis, and that’s enough. My club is a family, but that’s different. I trust them, and in my own way I love them, but it’s not the same as having a wife and kids. I’ll never go down that path. Then I found Fawn and her mother, Darby, thrown away like unwanted trash. Yeah, Fate’s laughing her ass off right now. They’re in my home, and slowly worming their way under my skin. Hearing their story is enough to make my blood boil and send rage flooding through me. I’ll exact revenge for all they’ve suffered, and then they’ll truly be free, able to move on without fear of being taken again. Except… I might not want to let them go.

WARNING: This story contains violence, bad language, and really hot sex. While there are abuse themes, nothing is told in great detail.

 

BUY LINKS
Amazon (Universal): http://mybook.to/RenegadeDBMC

iBooks: https://books.apple.com/us/book/renegade/id1477846416

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/renegade-109

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/renegade-harley-wylde/1133186518

 

Available at Changeling Press on September 6th (around 9am EST):

https://www.changelingpress.com/renegade-devil-s-boneyard-mc-6-b-2921

 

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EXCERPT
© 2019, Harley Wylde

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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

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

“ID.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That your sister?” I asked the girl.

She shook her head.

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

The little girl nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

ABOUT HARLEY

 

HarleyWyldeShort. 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.

Harley Wylde is the “wilder” side of award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith.

 

Website: http://harleywylde.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/HarleyWylde

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/HarleyW_Writer

Harley at Changeling Press: https://www.changelingpress.com/harley-wylde-a-196

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Jackal/Wraith (Duet) by Harley Wylde #paperback #MCromance #bikerbooks #NewAdult #SilverFox #MayDecember @HarleyW_Writer @changelingpress

Jackal/Wraith Duet (Dixie Reapers MC Box Sets 5)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

 

Jackal (Devil’s Boneyard MC 1)

Josie: I spent an amazing three days with Jackal before he disappeared, back to his club, the Devil’s Boneyard. He made it clear what we had was a temporary thing, and 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.

Jackal: I’ve thought about Josie since I walked away. I never counted on the little girl glued to her hip. 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. Figures the one I want more than anything might be the first to send me packing. But I’m not letting anyone take them away.

Wraith (Dixie Reapers MC 8)

Rin: My mom died when I was little, my dad when I was fifteen. My half-brother convinced the state to grant him custody, and my life has been hell ever since. Every time I try to run, he finds me, but this time will be different. I’m asking the Dixie Reapers for help. I didn’t count on the sexy man with the dark, brooding eyes who makes me want things I’ve never wanted before.

Wraith: I’m not the settling-down type. Maybe once upon a time, but not anymore. Now I’m faced with the strongest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. 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. I need Rin back, and I’ll do anything to make her mine.

 

Get the e-book TODAY from Changeling Press

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Available in Paperback at Amazon

 

Pre-Order the ebook for August 16th at:

   

 

Praise for Jackal (Devil’s Boneyard MC 1)

“…the sex is hotter than a firecracker. If MCs are your thing, you’ll like these stories.”

— 4 Stars from Alberta, Manic Reader Reviews

“Once again Harley has written an amazing story. I loved how everything turned out and it was nice to see Josie in a different light rather than the bratty girl I read about it Bull’s story. Jackal kind of had me ready to deck him in the beginning but by the end I loved him as well.”

—  5 Stars from Deshonda, Goodreads Review

Praise for Wraith (Dixie Reapers MC 8)

“Wraith was amazing. Rin is my absolute favorite. Reading about her story made me want to break down, but I loved how strong she was and though she was abused in countless ways it didn’t stop her from giving Wraith a chance. I definitely feel as if this was a 5 star read.”

— 5 Stars from Deshonda (iTunes Customer Review)

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Harley Wylde
Excerpt from Jackal

Josie

“I’m sorry, Tank. I tried to stop her,” the Prospect from outside said as he loomed behind me and reached for my arm.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” I said, snapping my teeth at him.

The Prospect jumped back, jerking his hand away from me. Asshole. What the fuck was wrong with guys? Like it was okay to just manhandle a woman. Bad enough they’d eye you like a piece of candy and you just knew they were undressing you with their eyes, but touching was a no-no unless I said it was okay.

Tank groaned and met me in the middle of the room. “What the fuck are you doing here, Josephine?”

“It’s Josie,” I said. I’d only told him that about a million and one times, and he still didn’t get it. Josephine was the name of some prissy princess type, and that so wasn’t me. I was high-heeled boots, black leather, and a good dose of sass all the way. “I hate that fucking name and you damn well know it.”

“Fine. What the fuck are you doing here, Josie?” Tank asked.

“Mom has gone too damn far this time. Either you do something, or I won’t be held responsible for my actions.” And she had gone really fucking far. I was beyond livid, but I didn’t know where to turn except to my big brother. Well, half-brother, but he was still the only family I had outside of Mom. That I knew of. Dad was such a horndog, it wouldn’t surprise me if we didn’t have siblings in every damn state. Maybe even a few other countries.

“You know your whore mother doesn’t listen to a fucking thing I say,” Tank said. “You’re nineteen, Josie. Move the fuck out.”

“And go where?” I mean seriously. Did he expect money to just magically appear? I’d tried the college thing, but it wasn’t for me. I wasn’t about to tell anyone I’d been stalked and attacked on campus. Mom would make it all my fault, and Tank would likely beat the fucker into the ground. Then big brother would be in jail. Now that I’d refused to go back… No, I wasn’t going to think about that because big brother was going to fix it. At least he fucking better.

Tank shrugged.

I screeched and stomped my foot before marching over to the bar. The Prospect handing out drinks stared at me wide-eyed, not that I was surprised. I was acting like a fucking brat and I knew it, but dammit. I was seriously losing my shit over this mess.

My life had become so fucked up in a very short time, and I didn’t see any way out of it. I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and I refused to listen to my mother this time. She’d ruled my life long enough. I was going to take a stand. I just preferred not to take that stand and end up living in a cardboard box behind the diner. I might not be a prissy princess, but I also knew I didn’t have the skills to survive on the streets. Just the thought of not being able to wash my hair every day was enough to give me hives.

Okay, so maybe I was a little bit of a prissy princess.

“Whiskey,” I snapped at the Prospect.

“You’re underage,” Tank said.

“Since when do you obey the law?” I sneered. Please. As if my big, badass biker brother gave a shit about what was legal or not. I’d be willing to bet every penny in his account came from illegal dealings. Not that I’d ever asked, and I never would. I didn’t give a shit what he did, as long as he stayed alive and out of jail.

Tank tossed his hands into the air and turned away from me. “Someone else can deal with this shit.”

I could feel someone moving closer to me, but I was a little more interested in staring down the Prospect who still hadn’t given me my fucking whiskey. I glared, and he glared right back. Little did he realize, I could do this shit all night, and I was not leaving until I’d had a drink or five. No way I was dealing with my fucked-up life stone-cold sober. If I had to go home to the she-beast known as Mom, I was going to need some liquid courage. Even that wouldn’t likely be enough to face the fate she had in store for me. Just the thought of it made me want to puke.

“Give. Me. The. God. Damn. Whiskey.”

“You’re under –”

I growled and bared my teeth at him. “You’re about two fucking seconds older than me and I know you’re all up in here whoring and drinking your ass off every night. Don’t you lecture me, you fucking prick.”

I heard a chuckle to my left and turned my head in that direction, but the baleful glare I was going to blast the guy with fizzled and died when I got a good look at him. He was quite a bit older than me, probably close to my brother’s age, but God was he sexy as hell. His chocolate eyes just pulled me in and promised all sorts of wicked delights. My gaze strayed down his chest, and I couldn’t help but lick my lips. The material clung to him, showing off very well-defined pecs that I wouldn’t mind exploring. The patch on his cut said he was part of Devil’s Boneyard, an MC I hadn’t heard of before now. But if he was here on Dixie Reapers property, then he must be okay.

“Jackal,” he said, holding out a hand.

“Josie.”

“So I heard.” He smirked. “So, do you really want a drink? Because there are other, much more entertaining ways to blow off steam.”

“Oh, are there?” I asked, playing along. I didn’t whore around, but no one would believe me if I told them that. I dressed to kill, but I’d taken my own virginity with a vibrator when I’d turned sixteen. No way I was leaving something like that up to a fumbling guy who didn’t know fuck all about pleasing a girl. Since then, I hadn’t seen the reason to get overly dirty. But this guy… Yeah, I could see myself getting all hot and sweaty with him.

He reached over and trailed a finger down my bare arm, making me shiver in the most delicious way. “I bet I could keep you entertained for hours. Maybe days.”

“Days?” My gaze dropped to his lap and the rather impressive cock straining against his jeans before flicking back up to his face. “You seem awfully sure of yourself.”

“Oh, baby, you have no idea.” He winked and I couldn’t help but smile.

I’d often had fun flirting with Tank’s brothers, but there was something about this guy that made me want to do much, much more. For the first time in my life, I was tempted to take a true walk on the wild side. He seemed like the type of guy who could make a woman forget her name, claw up his back, and beg for more. If I was going to let some guy fuck me, he was definitely at the top of the list of possibilities. He had this sexy smirk that made my panties damp, and the way he ran his hand through his hair had me wanting to lean just a little closer. And those tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves! Oh yeah, I wanted to explore those with my tongue.

“Maybe you should convince me,” I said.

“I thought you’d never ask.” His eyes blazed as he reached for my hand, tugging me off the barstool and leading me out the front door.

I didn’t know where we were going, and right then, I didn’t much care. As long as I wasn’t heading home, I was all right with any destination, especially if Mr. Tall Dark and Sexy was leading the way.

We stopped at a Harley that made me want to drool, it was that goddamn beautiful. He swung his leg over the seat, then held out his hand. I climbed on behind him, my body fitting against his like we were two pieces of a puzzle. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on as he pulled out of the lot and headed for the front gate. The Prospect on duty let us through, and Jackal opened up the bike on the highway, flying down the road and taking us farther and farther away from my small Alabama town.

 

More from Harley at Changeling Press …

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.

Harley’s website: harleywylde.com

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