(Hounds of Hell MC 5)
Motorcycle Club Romance
Date Published: December 13, 2024
Publisher: Changeling Press
She vanished once, leaving scars I can’t forget. Now she’s back,
hiding secrets I may never forgive.
Helena — Returning to Mercy was supposed to be a fresh start. As a
therapist, I’ve made it my mission to help others find strength, even
when I can’t always find it for myself. But when Crash walks back into
my life, bringing all the pain and passion of our past, I know this town
holds more than just memories—it holds secrets I can’t outrun.
He’s fierce, wounded, and the last person I thought I’d ever see again. And
while he’s still everything I want, he’s also everything I
should fear. Especially when he finds out what I’m hiding.
Crash — The Hounds of Hell gave me purpose when I had nothing but
rage. My loyalty runs deeper than blood—until they betrayed me. Losing
Perry, my only brother, has made me question everything I believed about the
family I chose. But when Helena returns, the woman who vanished after one
night and still haunts my dreams, my anger flares in ways I can’t control. I
wanted answers, and now I’m in too deep. She’s hiding something,
and whatever it is, it’s tied to the pain that put me on this path.
This time, I won’t let her slip away, even if it means facing demons I
swore to bury.
Excerpt
Copyright ©2024 Jamie Targaet
Sackett’s looked like a war zone. The usual warmth of the bar, with
its smoky air and dim lights, was replaced by the stark reality of the
aftermath. Tables had been overturned, chairs had been knocked on their
sides, and glass from shattered bottles and mugs crunched beneath his boots.
The usual hum of laughter and music had been replaced by the low murmurs of
tired voices, mingling with the sirens of the police cars that had arrived.
Flashing red and blue lights from the sheriff’s cruisers parked
outside flashed through the windows to light up the walls.
Crash wiped a smear of blood from his cheek — he hadn’t even been
sure if it was his — then leaned against the pool table, scanning the room.
A few Cottonmouths were still there, milling around like vultures looking
for scraps. A few looks were exchanged with the Hounds, sizing them up even
now. But no one moved. The fight had burned itself out.
The Mafia guys, Bianchi’s men, lay scattered across the floor, their
slick jackets and nice clothes torn and stained with blood, a sharp contrast
to the ruthless image they had carried when they showed up at
Sackett’s earlier. Now defeated, because the Hounds and the
Cottonmouths had beaten the living shit out of them, they looked smaller,
stripped of the power they thought they held over everyone else in the room.
Some groaned in pain; others were unconscious. A few remained still, beaten
beyond recognition. Their guns were kicked aside, useless once the Hounds
got close enough. The authority the New Jersey fucks once commanded was
shattered, replaced by the cold realization they had underestimated the
Hounds. The mistake cost them more than just pride.
The sheriff’s deputies walked into Sackett’s and moved through
the bar, talking quietly as they assessed the damage. Sheriff Sawyer stood
near the entrance, arms crossed, his eyes cold and calculating as he spoke
with the Hounds’ president, Razor. Crash could feel the tension in the
room still buzzing like a live wire — as though the fight wasn’t
really over — just paused. With the cops’ appearance, the
Cottonmouths started making their exit. Crash knew they were looking for an
excuse to start something again with the Hounds, but not with the law
hanging over them.
Glancing at the overturned table near the bar where the fight had started,
Crash shook his head. The place didn’t feel like Sackett’s
anymore, not with the stench of the Cottonmouths lingering and the deputies
keeping their distance like they also weren’t convinced everything was
over.
Of course, it hadn’t felt like home for him since she had
left…
The air was thick with the smell of sweat, blood, and spilled beer.
Crash’s entire being was still wired for the fight, but he forced
himself to stay calm. Sackett’s wasn’t just a bar, it was home
turf. He didn’t like sharing it with the enemy and wondered why the
fuck Razor had allowed that to happen. His gaze flicked to the last two
Cottonmouths as they walked out, part of Baby Face’s old crew,
whispering amongst themselves. It was hard not to imagine how different
things would have turned out if that psycho were still alive.
Sheriff Sawyer’s voice cut through the haze. “We’ll need
statements,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. The deputies
started herding people into groups, separating Hounds from Cottonmouths and
Mafia. There were others there even though Sawyer and his men had no idea
how they were connected to any of it.
Crash was just grateful the shit was over. He was exhausted and pretty sure
he had a couple of broken ribs. He hadn’t seen his younger brother the
entire time and he wanted to know where the hell Perry had gotten off to.
Most of all, like the rest of his brothers, he wanted the Mafia the fuck out
of Mercy for good.
Not wanting to talk to the fucking police, Crash went out the back
entrance. The cool night air hit him, a balm to flush out the bloodlust of
the last couple of hours. Closing his eyes, he savored the moment, trying to
be still.
Out behind Sackett’s in the field was an old barn that had been there
as long as he could remember. Beams of light flickered around the inside of
the old structure, telling him someone was out there. Sheriff Sawyer walked
out of the bar behind him, walking past Crash and heading in that direction.
Curious, because he hadn’t seen the twins since the middle of the
fight, he decided to follow him. After thinking about it, he hadn’t
seen Snow or Hero since then either. Even though his body ached with each
step he took, he followed the sheriff. His injuries kept him from moving too
fast.
As he drew closer, some instinct stopped him, whispering he should go back.
What the fuck?
Crash followed Sheriff Sawyer out to the barn, his heart still pounding
from the fight. The adrenaline was fading, leaving only the weight of what
had just happened. The distant hum of the sheriff’s cruiser lights
flickered through the trees. The field stretched ahead of them, the grass
damp beneath his boots, and in the distance, the barn loomed — an old,
forgotten relic that suddenly felt heavy with meaning.
As he got closer, the shadows around the barn seemed to thicken, the
structure barely illuminated by the glow of the sheriff’s flashlight.
The door hung slightly ajar, swinging gently with the breeze, creaking like
something out of a nightmare. The air felt different, heavier, and every
step closer sent a chill down Crash’s spine. He stopped, a sense of
foreboding threatening to overwhelm him. Was it an aftereffect of the fight?
Was he tired enough for his mind to play tricks on him?
Hearing the sheriff’s booming voice pulled him out of his head. Other
deputies ran past him, darting into the barn. The sheriff walked back out
with Margot Donner. Crash fucking knew she’d show up. Yeah, she was
one of Sawyer’s deputies, but she also was with Ryder now. Perry told
him he hoped Ryder would broom her fast, like he did all the other girls he
went around with, but Crash defended her. Maybe it was because she let him
go without a speeding ticket one night… and he’d certainly
deserved it. As far as he could tell, Ryder was different with her. If she
made their brother happy, what the fuck business was it of theirs?
Margot walked back in. Neither Margot nor Sawyer saw him as he reached the
barn. Hero was walking out with Jade as Crash reached the entrance, and she
was in tears. Hero’s eyes widened in alarm.
About the Author
Jamie Targaet is the author of the Hounds of Hell MC. She’s anxious to
introduce you to this club of gorgeous, dominant men and the lucky women who
surrender to them. The ride is going to get wild at times, not going to lie.
But there’s thrilling action, scorching hot sex scenes, and all the
feels.
Jamie writes erotic romance for Changeling Press, a little fanfiction on
the side, and she’s an aspiring horror writer in another life. She enjoys
time with her family (including the fur babies). She likes good horror
movies and shows, emo metal and classic rock, and time spent in other worlds
writing and reading. She loves hearing from readers and is looking forward
to hearing from you.
Author Contact Links
Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress
