Don’t Hold Back by Lynn Burke#BDSM #RomanceBooks #OlderHero #Contemprary @AuthorLynnBurke @changelingpress

Can he help her find the courage to face the emotions that come
with submitting her body—and heart?…

Don't Hold Back (Darkest Desires 3)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: BDSM, Contemporary, Dark Desire,
Silver Fox (older man), 2nd Chance Romance

Kelly Sadel has lived her life by a feels-o-meter since showing emotion as a kid was a big no-no. A timid analyst and fur baby momma, she avoids anything that stirs up her boring life. Secretly, she crushes on the man who rides the elevator with her every morning—he’s a unicorn amidst an office full of conservative short-hairs. He also sets her nerves on edge, topping her feels-o’meter to the limit, an oh-no in her carefully constructed world.

Accidentally dumping a box of cupcakes on his loafers grabs his unwanted attention, and he isn’t too quick to let go.

Jamison Byrne has worked his way through the submissives at Monique’s club hoping to find his own little subbie. He wants a collared sub, a woman to enjoy mutual pleasure his ropes bring without getting emotionally involved beyond scening.

Manipulation comes easy from years of life beneath a narcissistic asshole’s thumb, and Jamison finally gets Kelly to relent—but with her only agreeing to be friends. Jamison sweeps in but finds his feet swept beneath him as her nurturing nature opens him in ways he never expected. Sure he has found his “person,” he needs to find a way to share his darker desires and get Kelly to stop holding back and feel. He knows he can set her free, but does she want him to? Can he help her find the courage to face the emotions that come with submitting her body—and heart?

Get it Today at Changeling Press

Pre-Order for November 30th at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, and Kobo

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Lynne Burke

Kelly

The best part of being an analyst for Kirchoff Energy on the third floor of the office building in downtown Baltimore? Jamison Byrne in all his hot arrogance often hopped aboard the elevator, heading to the fourth floor for Davidoff Finance Corp.

Easily six feet or maybe an inch taller, he was a golden blondie with dark, piercing eyes and full lips that needed to be nibbled. Along with that, he had wide shoulders, a trim waist, and the most perfectly formed backside.

But he wasn’t my type. Nope. I preferred sweet, shy nerds. Not that I dated much. To be honest, I’d had two dates in the previous two years. Sure, I had the usual social media profiles, but the thoughts of signing up for one of those dating sites scared the crap out of me. Friendships were all fine and good — as long as I didn’t have to stomach strong feelings. I couldn’t handle them.

But Jamison… I drooled over him every morning I was lucky enough to share the elevator with him — and the other half-dozen people who stuffed in with us. He carried this mysterious air, a confidence that attracted yet repelled me at the same time. In an office of conservative short hairs, he had longer locks and kept scruff on his jaw… he even smelled damn delicious. A true unicorn in a field of rhinos.

He also set my nerves on edge.

I’d never spoken to him, never touched him, but my hands shook and knees weakened whenever he stepped into the elevator. I’d heard rumors from my co-workers on Friday that the hottie from Davidoff Financial upstairs modeled for romance novel covers. The idea didn’t surprise me — he had the body and look for it — and boy, did I enjoy looking.

Not that I wanted him.

On Monday, one of my coworkers celebrated her fiftieth birthday, so I stopped by a bakery to get black-icing cupcakes. I carried the white box in front of me, so scared of dropping the damn thing that I didn’t take care when entering the elevator. Thinking I’d gone in far enough, I turned, and nailed the person shuffling in behind me with the box.
White cardboard — flimsy as shit — flew from my hands, and in slow motion just like a cartoon, it fell to the floor as I leapt toward the damn thing. “Shit! No!” I bit off the word as the box landed on leather loafers I knew well.

Heat crept up my chest, and I quickly squatted without lifting my head, pushing up my too-big glasses. “I’m so sorry!” I grabbed at the scattered cupcakes, smearing frosting all over my fingers — and his shoes.

“It’s okay.” That low, rumbly tone swept down my spine, straight to the loneliest place on earth, springing dampness to life between my thighs. “Let me help.”

Jamison Byrne in all his slow, seductive sexiness, crouched down in front of me, his jeans tightening across his thighs and showcasing a bulge worth drooling over. No wonder he modeled for romance novels.

My mouth watered, and I snapped my jaw shut to swallow, realizing I stared at his groin. My God. Pure heat flooded my face as the elevator door slid shut with only two others stepping in the join us in the mess I’d made.

“Y-you don’t have to do that,” I told him as our fellow patrons of the elevator shuffled around to stay away from the mess.

Jamison picked up a cupcake and dropped it in the askew box beside me, icing coating one of his fingers.

I wanted to lick it off. No, I just wanted his finger in my mouth.

My insides trembled like a bowl of gelatin, like the final leaves on the trees outside, and I refused to lift my gaze to his face. He was a mere three feet away, if I looked into his eyes, my insides would be wrecked, flooded with feelings topping out my feels-o-meter with its ten limit.

I leaned forward to grab the last cupcake at the same time he did. Our hands brushed, and lightening split my mind, tearing a gasp past my lips. My attention jerked up, my gaze landing on his face.

Dark eyes, so black they should have looked like a shark’s, with a dead and unfeeling gaze. But the intensity of his stare, the heat in those orbs pebbled my skin. My jaw slackened. Brain erupted in chaos, my feels-o-meter spiking beyond a mere ten.

He glanced at the ID hanging around my neck. “Kelly Sadel.”

Did I nod? I couldn’t remember, but I became very conscious of the fact my low-cut blouse revealed the girls spilling from my bra.

“Jamison Byrne.” He held out his hand.

“Y-yes, I know.” My voice shook as badly as my hands as I lifted up a bit to lessen the peek show and then shoved the box’s lid down, rudely ignoring his hand. No way in hell I could touch the man again. He’d already ruined a pair of my panties. “I mean — I don’t know. Er… well, I’ve heard of you, that is. Mr. Byrne of Davidoff Financial.”

His chuckle lit all kinds of butterflies in my stomach, and a shaky smile pullaed at my lips as I fought to control the turmoil in my brain.

“I’m sorry.” Heat flooded my cheeks anew. “I’m so, so sorry.” I struggled to stand, my purse dangling from my forearm, the wrecked box in my hands, my glasses tilting again. “I don’t even have a tissue to offer you for your shoes and I should. Allergy season, you know? The ragweed kills me every time this year.” The box wobbled in my shaking arms.

Jamison grasped my elbow and steadied me, jerking my gaze up to his face again. He towered over my five-foot-two, and his divine scent, spice with a hint of wintergreen… it stuck to my nose, coated my lungs. I couldn’t breathe him in deeply enough.

G-good God. So pretty. So golden. Beautiful, beautiful, boy…

“Steady?” he asked, his lush-looking lips still smiling.

I nodded like a dumb idiot even though I would much rather have said no in the hope his warm hold on my elbow would linger. What would that large hand feel like sliding up my arm to grasp my nape? Would I swoon if he lowered his head and swept his lips over mine? Lips, perfectly bowed and pink… soft looking. Delicious, actually —

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of hot 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.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/

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

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

 

Rocky/Bull Duet (Dixie Reapers MC Print 2)

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

 

Rocky (Dixie Reapers MC 3)

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

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

Bull (Dixie Reapers MC 4)

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

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

 

Get the paperback at Amazon!

 

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

Mara

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t move,” he said.

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

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

“My bag,” I said softly.

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

“I’m Mara,” I said. “Mara O’Malley.”

His gaze flicked down to mine. “Rocky.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Check out more books by Harley

 

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

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

Venom/Torch Duet (Dixie Reapers MC Print 1)

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

Venom (Dixie Reapers MC 1)

Ridley: My daddy was a biker, and I was definitely Daddy’s girl. When I found out my stepdad had something horrible planned for me, I ran. Straight to the Dixie Reapers. But it wasn’t my daddy’s arms I ended up in. Venom makes me feel safe, and his kisses make me ache for so much more. I want him — all of him — and damn the consequences.

Venom: I hadn’t risen to the rank of VP of the Dixie Reapers MC without getting my hands dirty. I’d been deep in blood and dirty money for over twenty years. But when an angel I hadn’t seen in fourteen years came back into my life, all it took was one look and I was a goner. Now she’s mine, and I’ll do anything to keep her, even if it means starting a war.

Torch (Dixie Reapers MC 2)

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

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

Available at Amazon

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

 

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Venom (Dixie Reapers MC 1)
Harley Wylde
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Harley Wylde

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

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

My stomach pitched, and I nearly threw up.

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

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

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

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

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

“Marta, I…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What can I get you, doll?”

“A burger and fries with a sweet tea.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to make a trade,” I said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

His question momentarily startled me. “Ride?”

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

“How well does it run?” I asked.

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

“Even trade?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

“You know who I am,” I said softly.

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

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

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

I straddled the bike again and nodded.

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

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

 

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

Visit Harley at harleywylde.com!

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

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

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

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

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

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#NewRelease – Tex (Dixie Reapers MC) by @HarleyW_Writer #MCromance #BikerRomance #EroticRimance #DarkRomance @changelingpress

 

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Book Six in the Dixie Reapers MC series is releasing today! If you haven’t read the Dixie Reapers yet, you can jump right in. Each book can be read as a stand-alone, but you may enjoy the series more if you read all of them. Each book focuses on a different character. The men of the Dixie Reapers have a thing for younger women, so each book is an older hero/younger heroine pairing.

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Genres/Themes: Contemporary, BBW, Interracial, MC Romance, Men and Women in Uniform, New Adult, Silver Fox

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Release Date: August 17th

Tex — I made a mistake fifteen years ago, one that could have landed my ass in jail. Instead, I made a deal. I signed away the rights to a child I’d never see, and then I joined the Army, putting the Dixie Reapers and my life in Alabama firmly in my rearview. But now I’m back, and I can’t help but wonder what happened to my son or daughter. What I discover makes my blood run cold, and I vow to do anything in my power to save the daughter I’ve never met. I just didn’t count on rescuing two damsels, or that the second one would look at me with haunted eyes that would make me do something stupid. I’d vowed to never let another woman fuck me over. I just hope I don’t regret letting Kalani into my home and into my life. She has trouble written all over her.

Kalani — I’ve been locked away my entire life. Hillview Asylum looks presentable enough on the outside, but I know firsthand about the horrors inside those walls. I’d always expected I’d die there, until he came. Not that he was coming for me. I’ve sheltered his daughter, Janessa, as much as possible, and in return I gained her trust and loyalty. I’d have never guessed those two things would save me. Or maybe they didn’t, because now I’m faced with a man who makes me want things I shouldn’t. His club suggested a marriage of convenience, to keep me out of Hillview, but I want more than just his name. I have no doubt this is going to end with my heart shattered at my feet, but he keeps the nightmares away. For the first time in my entire life, I feel safe. Protected. But now I want more… I want to be loved.

WARNING: Contains strong language, abuse, and other dark elements, as well as explicit sexual content. There is no cheating, no cliffhanger, and a guaranteed HEA.

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SNEAK PEEK…

The truck came to a stop just outside a metal gate. It slid open, and the truck pulled through. I didn’t know where we were, and I didn’t care, as long as it wasn’t the asylum. Anything was better than being there. They drove down a winding road and stopped in front of a green house. Flicker got out and opened the back door. Tex held me tight as he stepped out of the truck and began carrying me toward the house. Janessa walked at his side.

“Call the doc,” Tex said. “I think they both need to be checked out.”

My body tensed, and I struggled against him. No, no more doctors. Doctors caused pain. I could feel the panic rising inside me, my heart racing and my lungs feeling like they’d seize at any moment.

“Hey, easy,” Tex crooned at me. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

“Doctors do bad things,” Janessa said softly. “Especially to Kalani.”

Tex looked down at me and gave a slight nod. “All right. No doctors. Not for tonight anyway.”

“Where are you going to put them?” Flicker asked. “Only two of the bedrooms are furnished.”

“Kalani and I can share,” Janessa said.

Tex carried me down a short hall and stepped into a blue bedroom. He eased me down onto the bed, and I winced as pain shot through me again. Janessa moved around to the other side of the bed and crawled in next to me. She stayed close, but not near enough that she’d hurt me.

“You’re safe here,” Tex said. “No one can get into the compound without our permission.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

He smiled a little. “We’re Dixie Reapers, and we take care of our own.”

“But I’m not one of you. I don’t belong to anyone.”

He glanced at his daughter. “She thinks you belong to her, and since she’s mine, I guess that makes you mine too.”

A strange warmth worked its way through me at his words. I’d never been anyone’s before, but as his gaze settled on me again, I decided I didn’t mind being called his. With the bedroom lights on, I could see more details of the men who had rescued us. They were each handsome in their own way, but Tex took my breath away. I’d never considered a man attractive before, not when I knew what they were capable of, but these men had risked their lives to save us. And that made them different.

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

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#NewRelease – HAWK (Fallen Gliders MC) by Lynn Burke #MCromance #BikerRomance #olderman #eroticromance @evernightpub @AuthorLynnBurke

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Hawk
Fallen Gliders #2
Publisher: Evernight Publishing

Artwork: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art
Projected Release Date: July 26, 2018

ASIN: B07FW6FVYQ
Keywords: MC Romance, Contemporary, Erotic, May/December

*Be warned: Spanking, anal sex

As a member of the Fallen Gliders, bad boy biker Hawk Richards tends to use his fists first and has fucked his way through the club whores. Life has been a never ending supply of bikes, women, and beer. When his brother hands in his colors, Hawk is sworn in as the new Sergeant at Arms and struggles to find meaning in the club and his existence. Until her.

Janie is curvy as fuck and the sweetest thing Hawk has ever seen. The young woman with the joy of life in her eyes is everything he’s been missing, everything he’s ever wanted. When the little butterfly falls into his arms, he wonders if someone might finally look beyond his ink and reputation to see the man hiding underneath.

Janie’s life has always been a roller coaster, and even though she’s flying high with Hawk, she knows a crash is inevitable. The last thing she wants is for him to be burdened with picking up the pieces. But how can she resist him? His touch makes her burn, and every minute in his bed intensifies her craving for more.

Can Hawk convince Janie he wants her for the long haul, or will the secret she keeps tear him from her side forever?

 

 

BUY IT ON SALE NOW FOR ONLY $2.99 AT EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING!

Evernight Publishing: https://www.evernightpublishing.com/hawk-by-lynn-burke/

 

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Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07FW6FVYQ

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Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hawk-24

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1129166052

 

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EXCERPT:

We’d been in Sturgis for almost a week, and I hadn’t fucked a single woman. My outlook on life sucked the previous couple of months, to the point the thought of having my cock shoved down a willing throat or burying myself balls-deep in some random cunt didn’t even twitch my dick. I felt like a wind-blown leaf with no sense of purpose, no desire for sex or companionship. I’d taken to drinking harder stuff than my usual beer but knew the slump I floundered in wouldn’t end well unless I decided to pick my ass up and figure out my life.

Perhaps today’s the day, I told myself, picking up the shot of whiskey our waitress sat in front of me.

A flash of red-brown hair drew my gaze to the far left before I could pop out the toothpick and down my drink. A little butterfly with gray-green eyes flashing along with her wide smile. Dimple, full lips, high cheekbones—a fucking model in a tight tank and Daisy Dukes.

My cock thickened inside my leather pants, and my head turned as she slowly passed by the picture window, her face animated and lips moving as she chatted with her friends, the joyful gleam in her eyes snaring me tight. She radiated life, an exuberant, light step while I wallowed in my shit life.

Jealousy and yearning for what she experienced clenched my chest, and I found myself rubbing a hand over tattooed pecs I spent hours sculpting on a daily basis.

The little butterfly passed beyond the window, and I sat back, not realizing I’d leaned forward to keep her in sight.

“Finally see something worth fucking?” Jonny asked with an elbow to my ribs.

“Fuck, yeah. Reddish hair—not the dyed kind—and tits out to here,” I said around my toothpick, holding my hand out a few inches away from my chest. “Young and full of life.”

One of Jonny’s eyebrows rose. “What the fuck you sitting here for?”

I hesitated to glance around the group of men—fellow Fallen Gliders from across the States, discussing the lighter aspect of business. A large meeting had taken place the night before, the heads of the chapters sitting down to discuss the future of our club. Just more depressing shit to pile on life.

“Go on,” Jonny encouraged, elbowing me again.

 I hopped off my stool and pushed my way through the crowd for the front door. At six-foot-five, I had no trouble seeing over most of the heads bobbing to my right as I stepped out onto the sidewalk.

The roar of mufflers and cranking music from Christ knew where filled my ears as I breathed in the scents of exhaust, sweat, and cheap perfume in the night air. I took a half-dozen steps to the right, scanning the crowd of people on the sidewalk in front of me before pulling up short. No fucking way I was going to find her unless I acted like an asshole and shoved people out of my way while hurrying the way she’d gone.

Curses flew from my lips while I turned back toward the bar. A voice in my head sang a country hit, reminding me that if we were meant to be, it’d be.

“No fucking luck?” Jonny asked as I slumped back onto the stool.

My scowl sufficed for an answer.

Tipping back my head for the whiskey burn didn’t help my shit mood. Neither did the bloody burger and pile of fries fifteen minutes later. Thoughts of the little butterfly warred with depression in my mind, and I called it an early night, leaving my brothers behind. The quietness of the hotel didn’t offer anything but a hot shower where I could blow the load that had been building in my balls for weeks.

At least I had a semi-purpose … find the vivacious little butterfly and steal some of her joy in life for myself.

© Lynn Burke 2018

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 Other books in this series: Nicky, Fallen Gliders #1

 

ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

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.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

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#NewRelease PREACHER (Dixie Reapers MC) by @HarleyW_Writer #bikerromance #mcromance #newadult #olderhero #eroticromance

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Kayla:

My twin brother, Johnny, practically disappeared when he started prospecting for the Dixie Reapers, and if I wanted to see him, then it meant going to the compound. I’d never been inside the clubhouse, wasn’t supposed to go there, but sometimes the devil on my shoulder prods me into doing things I shouldn’t.  Johnny made it sound like there were drugs being snorted left and right and orgies, but that wasn’t what I found that night.

I never expected to fall for a heartbroken man I could never have, a man much older than me. But that night, Preacher took me in his arms, claimed my virginity with a passion that left me seeing stars, and I knew that I’d made the right decision. Even if it did come back to bite me in the ass two months later. When I’d walked through the door that night, I’d never counted on being fucked by a super hot biker, and I definitely didn’t expect to end up pregnant!

Preacher:

When I lost my family, before even prospecting for the Dixie Reapers, I’d closed off my heart and vowed to never let another woman in. A quick fuck here and there with the club pussy kept me sane, but no one would ever mean anything to me. Then the most tempting woman I’ve ever met gave me a night I knew I’d always remember, right before she disappeared.

When she turns up two months later, I find her in the arms of one of the prospects. Fury hits me first, then she knocks me on my ass when she tells me she’s pregnant. With my kid. I turned away from god all those years ago, gave up being a minister and signed my life over to the Dixie Reapers. I don’t know that I believe in a higher power anymore, but maybe it’s time I start praying again. Because giving this woman everything she needs, being the man she deserves, is going to take one hell of a miracle.

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Read an Excerpt before buying…

Kayla

I wasn’t supposed to be here. Johnny had warned me away, telling me that the compound was no place for a girl like me. I nearly snapped his head off and reminded him I was a grown-ass woman and not some child. He was all of two minutes older than me, but acted like he was thirty and not nineteen. My twin brother was a pain in the damn ass, but I missed him. We’d done everything together, until he’d decided to prospect for the Dixie Reapers, then overnight, he was gone. All of his time was tied up with club business, and he no longer came home to visit. He’d walked away from me, and it hurt like hell, especially since he damn well knew what life was like at home.

I didn’t have a car, and walking all the way to the compound hadn’t been fun, but as I approached the gates, I felt my stomach twist and turn. I’d met a few of the prospects from the times I’d shown up to see Johnny, but I’d never met the patched members, and Johnny wanted to keep it that way. He’d told me that what went on in the clubhouse wasn’t something I ever wanted to be a part of, and I’d avoided the place all this time, but as I heard the music blasting from inside I wondered if the temptation would be too great.

The hem of my denim skirt rode up and I tugged it back down as I neared the gate. The prospect on the other side was one I’d met once or twice. He always leered at me and gave me the creeps, but so far he’d kept his hands to himself. His gaze caressed me in a way that suggested he’d like to do far more than look, and I tried to hold back my shiver of revulsion at the mere thought of his hands on me. It wasn’t that he was bad looking, but he definitely gave off a creeper vibe.

“You here to see Johnny?” he asked.

“Yeah. Thought I’d surprise him.”

“Oh, he’ll be surprised all right. He’s inside,” the prospect said, tipping his head toward the clubhouse. “But then, you aren’t allowed in there are you? Too pristine for a place like that.”

“I’m not pristine,” I snapped.

I might be a virgin in the strictest sense, but I was far from angelic. I’d never technically had sex, even though I’d given a few blow jobs and fooled around, but I’d used my trusty vibrator to take care of my virginity. I’d heard it would hurt, and no way was I trusting a guy with something like that. Especially not since the guys I knew were selfish and fumbling. No finesse whatsoever.

“Just remember that you were warned.” The gate slid open and he motioned toward the clubhouse. “Enter at your own risk.”

That sounded like something the creepy guy in horror movies says right before the heroine does something incredibly stupid, like enter a house full of mass murderers, or choose the darkened pathway filled with deformed, dying trees instead of the brightly lit path. This was just a clubhouse full of bikers, one of which was my brother. How bad could it be?

I stepped through the gate and made my way across the lot to the building with Dixie Reapers across the top in neon, and slowly climbed the steps. The noise from inside was even louder now, and I pushed open the doors, not sure what to expect. The way my brother talked, I half-expected naked women and orgies going on out in the open. My gaze scanned the room, but I didn’t see my brother — or any orgies. The place was packed wall to wall with men and women in leather cuts with Dixie Reapers stitched across the back. Other than some smoking and drinking, I didn’t see anything wild going on. Not that those things were wild, but to hear Johnny tell it, all kinds of shit went down in here. They just looked like your average group of adults having a nice time.

No one paid me any attention as I moved further into the room, but the fact I was the only one not sporting one of those leather cuts made me feel a little out of place. At least I’d worn my black top and not the red one I’d picked up first. Still, I didn’t exactly blend, even if some of the women present looked to be my age or close to it. I’d learned enough from Johnny to guess those were the old ladies. He seemed rather fond of the President’s woman, and I wondered if I’d ever get a chance to meet her. To hear Johnny tell it, the woman was up for sainthood. I didn’t think anyone could ever be that perfect.

At the end of the bar, a man sat alone, a line of shot glasses in front of him, and an old worn Bible nearby. I hadn’t taken the club for being religious, but then this man didn’t seem quite like the others. He wore the same cut as everyone else, but as I studied him, I realized he was more somber. There was almost a haunted look to him, as if he were trying to drown his demons in whiskey, or whatever he was drinking. I felt this pull, as if I were supposed to get closer to him.

Slowly, I made my way across the room and slid onto the stool next to his. He didn’t even so much as glance my way, but I could tell from the way his mouth tensed that he was more than aware of my presence, and didn’t seem to care for it. I didn’t know what he was trying to run from, and it was honestly none of my business, but I’d found that sometimes people just needed to be reminded they weren’t as alone as they thought. Despite the fact the room was full of people, not a single one had come to sit by him. Maybe he’d chased them off, or maybe they left him alone because of the vibe he was putting out. Neither was going to deter me. Someone as sexy as him shouldn’t be drowning their sorrows. Not alone anyway.

The guy behind the bar came over, a swagger to his step and a cocky smile on his face. His cut said Prospect, but thankfully he wasn’t someone I knew. The minute my brother found out I was here, he’d likely escort me back to the gate and send me home, which was the last place I wanted to be. The guy leaned on the bar, his arms folded so that his biceps bulged. I assumed I was supposed to be impressed, but he looked just like every other asshole in my neighborhood who wanted in my pants. Not happening, buddy.

“What can I get for you, beautiful?” he asked, his lips tipping up on one side that I supposed most would find sexy. It wasn’t making me drop my panties, that was for sure. I was completely immune to guys like this one.

“Rum and coke,” I said.

The guy next to me snorted.

“What?” I asked, turning my attention his way.

When his gaze clashed with mine, the breath in my lungs froze. Dark hair and a close-cropped beard were sexy enough, but damn… the man’s eyes were truly a thing of beauty. I saw blues, greens, golds. Maybe even a hint of gray. Those were the kind of eyes a woman could lost in, the kind of eyes that would make her do something really stupid.

“You ever actually had a rum and coke?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth.

“Maybe.”

He smiled a little. Not a full out smile, and not even a smirk. It was almost like his lips had turned up without his permission because it was gone almost as fast as it happened.

“Why don’t you give her a sex on the beach?” the guy next to me said.

The Prospect leered at me. “Oh, I’d be delighted.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Just the drink, thanks.”

I could tell he wanted to say something, but he refrained, walking off to fix my drink. I focused on the guy sitting next to me again, and noticed his cut said Preacher. Since he had a Bible nearby, I wondered if that’s how he’d gotten the name. I didn’t think an actual preacher would be sitting here drinking alcohol. But then, I didn’t really know any religious types.

“I’m Kayla,” I said.

“Preacher.”

He went back to looking at his shot glasses, which were empty now. Now that he’d spoken to me, no way was I letting him go back to his brooding silence. He was probably older than I’d first thought, but that only made me curious. I was used to guys my age, who didn’t know what the hell they were doing. But a guy like him? I was willing to bet that he knew exactly how to treat a woman, both in and out of the bedroom.

“Why aren’t you partying with everyone else?” I asked.

“Weddings aren’t really something I like to celebrate,” he said.

“Don’t believe in marriage?”

He held up his left hand, a gold band on his ring finger. “Already met my one and only. And someday I’ll get to see her again.”

See her again?

“Did she move?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He glanced my way. “To heaven.”

Way to put your foot in your mouth, Kayla.