Tag Archives: Harley Wylde

Balor Teaser Tuesday

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(Balor’s Saints MC)

 

Fantasy Romance, Motorcycle Club

Date Published: November 15, 2024

 

 

Tap into the magick, feel the heat, and ride along with the Balor’s
Saints MC on this unmissable journey of danger and desire.

 

Belladonna: My father, the leader of my coven, is a monster. When I hear
him talking about selling me in marriage to another coven, I know I need to
escape. And there’s only one hope. I have to find the mage who
prophesied to father the most powerful child seen in centuries and get him
to sleep with me.

I knew tricking the notorious dark mage Balor Hades into bed was risky. But
I’d planned to be gone before my spell wore off. Just one
problem… He woke up before I did. Now he’s confined me to his
house… and he’s beyond pissed.

Balor: The witch should have never darkened my doorstep. She definitely
shouldn’t have cast a spell on me. But she did, and now I know
she’s mine… my fated mate. I’ve waited two hundred years,
and now that I have her in my grasp, I’m not letting her go.
I’ll put everything on the line to protect her, even from her own
father. But can the town of Darkwood survive a battle with her coven?

My brothers in the Balor’s Saints MC have my back, even if they
aren’t too sure about Belladonna just yet. With them on my side, I
know we’ll get through this. Except I’ve been keeping something
from them — my real identity. When they find out, will all hell break
loose? Or will they still stand with me to fight against the supernatural
storm brewing?

 

Dive into this supernatural romance that mixes spicy passion with
pulse-pounding action.

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EXCERPT

Balor

Adjusting my leather jacket, I stepped into the clubhouse, letting the door
swing shut behind me. Casual attire suited my alter ego — jeans, a plain
T-shirt, and the jacket that was more than just a piece of clothing. It was
a symbol.

The low hum of conversation filled the room, mingling with the scent of
leather and beer. The clubhouse had an air of camaraderie, the kind that
came from shared secrets and mutual respect. Balor’s Saints MC — my
club. My men. Even if they didn’t realize it yet.

I nodded to someone across the room, my gaze sweeping over the familiar
faces. Collin lounged on the couch, his eyes fixed on the TV screen. The
crime drama playing out seemed a bit too close to home. I’d heard the
whispers when he’d come to town. Seen the warrant myself. He’d
seemed genuine when he’d said the crime had been justified. Still. I
liked to make sure he wasn’t killing anyone while he was here.

I’d built this club gradually, but the idea had come to me about
twenty years ago. Maybe slightly longer, or shorter. As long as I’d
been alive, forget days blurring together. Entire years did. Collin had
joined us about five years ago. I knew for a human that was a decent amount
of time. For the rest of us, it was barely a blip on our radar. None of
these men had known one another before I’d brought them into the club,
and they hadn’t all moved to town even close to the same timeframe.
But somehow, we worked well together, even though we all had a darker side,
including the human. My club brothers weren’t saints — despite our
club name — but we didn’t harm the innocent.

I took in the sharp angles of his face, the pale blue eyes that seemed to
not miss a thing. I didn’t think anything in the room escaped his
notice. Collin was always watchful. I’d wondered if it was because of
the life he’d led running from the law, or if it was something else.
Right now, he seemed at ease. His dark hair was short, the faintest hint of
a five-o’clock shadow along his jaw. He didn’t bother to look my
way as I crossed the room to take a seat beside him.

I watched Clay and Jackson play a game of darts. My gaze moved to the TV. I
didn’t need to look at Collin for what I had planned. I doubted
he’d even realize what I was doing. My magick slid along my skin, like
the soft caress of a lover. I let it slither out, searching. When it brushed
against Collin’s thoughts, I felt the familiar tingle in my
fingertips. He didn’t even flinch. No indication he knew what
I’d done. I’d gotten better at being subtle. No images of blood
or fear. I did see a few images of him fucking one of the strippers down the
road. I wouldn’t deny it made my dick hard. I’d never claimed to
be a saint. Even my club brothers didn’t know how true that was.

“Show any good?” I nodded to the TV.

He snorted. “It’s crap. But it’s better than
nothing.”

The low hum of the TV nearly drowned out the sound of the darts hitting the
board. Someone had turned off the lights in the front of the building, and
shadows crept along the walls in the great room.

Collin shifted on the couch. “Didn’t expect to see you
tonight.”

I offered a faint smile. “Had some business in town. Thought
I’d stop by, have a drink with my club brothers.”

Clay pulled a dart free from the board a few feet away. I watched as the
muscles in his back bunched under his shirt. He threw the dart, and I heard
the thud as it hit the target.

“Not bad,” Jackson Mays said. He pulled his own darts free and
stepped back.

Jackson’s gaze lingered on me for a moment, and I saw his eyes
darken. Not with lust. No. The necromancer didn’t want to fuck me. He
wanted to pull me apart and see what made me tick. I’d have to watch
him. I’d never admit it, but I didn’t know everything he could
do. I’d need to look into his kind a bit more, see how much of a
threat he could be. Another thing I’d been putting off. It
wasn’t like Jackson hadn’t been here for about a decade already.
Then again, there was a chance I wouldn’t be able to dig up much,
regardless of which contacts I used. He seemed like the type who knew how to
keep his secrets buried.

His raven hair was neatly trimmed, his clothing immaculate. I’d
noticed he preferred darker colors, and today was no different. The shirt
and jeans he wore were black, even his boots.

“Think you can do better?” Clay asked.

“I can try.” Jackson’s tone remained calm and
measured.

Clay threw his last dart and joined us, grabbing a beer from the fridge
before he settled into a chair. “You’ve got to be cheating.
There’s no way you’d consistently win against me, not when my
reflexes are better.”

“Just lucky.” Jackson’s lips twitched.

Ben, who’d been sitting at the table, looked up from his phone. He
seemed to see right through me. His dark hair was mussed as if he’d
run his fingers through it repeatedly. A perpetual smirk played on his lips,
and I could see the appeal he’d have for a lot of people. He had a
roguish charm and oozed danger. His looks and confidence didn’t hurt
either. I knew better than to assume he was harmless. I could see it in the
way he carried himself. The others didn’t seem the least bit concerned
about him.

I’d heard a little about him before he joined the club nearly twelve
years ago. Not enough to satisfy my curiosity. He kept to himself a lot.
I’d considered trying to read his thoughts but worried it might scare
him off. I’d wait it out. If he was a threat, we’d figure it out
sooner or later. I’d hoped it would be later. I liked him, and I knew
the others did too.

He stood and made his way over to us. His movements were almost ethereal in
their grace. There was something almost intimate about it, and it made me
understand why so many people offered up their necks to him, or any other
veins he wanted to sink his fangs into.

“This is what we’ve come to? Watching bad TV because
we’re too lazy to find the remote?” he asked.

I chuckled. “It’s not so bad. Beats staring at a wall.”
These men were my brothers, not by blood but by choice. And yet I lied to
them every fucking day. If they ever found out… No, it wouldn’t
do me any good to go down that road. Not until I had to. Sooner or later, my
identity would come out. Nothing remained a secret forever.

Clay took a swig of his beer. “Heard some weird things going on in
town. You hear anything?”

I shrugged. “I hear a lot of things. Some of them might even be
true.”

Ben snorted. “You’d think people would have better things to do
than gossip.”

“Humans have always gossiped,” I said. “It’s in
their nature. But supernaturals are even worse.”

Collin leaned back, stretching his legs out. “So, what’s the
word on the street, then?”

I let my gaze drift over him. “I hear there’s a human in town
who likes to play house with a bunch of supernaturals. As in keeping them
like pets.”

Jackson’s eyes darkened, and I wondered if he’d be seeking out
that person and liberating the enslaved people. Our people. There
weren’t a lot of humans in this town, not compared to the number of
supernatural beings, but the ones we did have didn’t typically cause
trouble. But this person was new and clearly didn’t know the rules
yet.

“Know what else I heard recently?”

 

 

About the Author

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC
Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde
immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible
women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still
managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde’s website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts
and other exciting perks.

 

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

 

Pre-Order Today

 

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

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Cotton Blitz

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Cotton cover

(Hades Abyss MC)

 

Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense

Date Published: October 18, 2024

 

 

Sometimes love is the only weapon against unspeakable evil.

Lavinia — I thought love was my salvation, until my Prince Charming turned
out to be not so princely. Then my pregnancy only made my relationship with
Tyler spiral into an even worse nightmare. Trapped in a cycle of pain and
fear, I worry there’s no escape. Until Cotton rides into my life. He
sees through my pain and vows to keep me safe. But Tyler isn’t
finished with me, and this time there’s more at stake. Escaping may
cost me everything. Maybe even my life.

Cotton — I’ve seen my share of darkness, but the cruelty Lavinia has
endured is heartbreaking. I know I’m too old for her, but I’m
all she’s got. Whatever it takes, I have to keep her from Tyler. Even
if it means making her mine. I promised her protection, gave her nights full
of passion… but when danger strikes, my promise is broken. I’ll
get her back, even if it means sending Tyler straight to hell. Because
Lavinia is mine, and I won’t stop until she’s back in my
arms.

Embark on this thrilling, emotional ride and see if love can conquer
all.

 

WARNING: intended for readers 18+ due to bad language, violence, and adult
situations. Cotton contains scenes that may trigger sensitive readers.

 

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EXCERPT

Cotton

I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands clasped together so tightly my
knuckles turned white. The pressure helped ground me, keeping me tethered to
the present. The past threatened to suck me under, drag me back down to the
dark place where sleep was nearly impossible. I’d come a long way in
the last year, but the guilt still ate at me, gnawing at my insides until I
thought I might explode from the pain. My head bowed, so I closed my eyes,
resting my elbows on my knees.

No matter how much time passed, I didn’t think I’d ever be able
to forgive myself. Roe had told me more than once what happened wasn’t
my fault. The demons in my head didn’t seem to care. Roe had been a
victim. So had I. Knowing that hadn’t stopped me from thinking I could
have done more, something to prevent what happened.

My brow furrowed, and my jaw clenched. The tension in my body made my
muscles ache. Would I ever be able to let it go? Hell, would I ever want to?
As the memories played in a continuous loop, I shifted on the bed, trying to
find a comfortable position. When that didn’t help, I dragged my hand
through my hair. The knots in my stomach made me nauseous. I hadn’t
eaten much in the last few days. Seemed like the demon in my head had
decided to visit.

Those memories could go fuck themselves. I knew I should get up, eat
something, maybe hang out in the clubhouse. Except I couldn’t seem to
make myself move. As I sat there, the edge of the bed digging into my ass, I
stared at the room. Never needed a lot, but even this felt like it was
closing in on me.

A few personal items dotted the room. Nothing too girly. I had a framed
photo of Roe, something I probably should have put away. The book on my
nightstand had been read so many times it was about to fall apart. Next
chance I got, I’d order another one.

I peered down at my arm, my gaze snagging on the US Navy-themed ink.
Remembering my time back then wasn’t always easy. The weight of what
I’d done sometimes kept me awake, but those memories? They were easier
to live with than what happened a year ago.

When I turned my head, I caught a glimpse of the photo. My chest tightened,
and I forced myself to look away. Once I’d found out where Roe was
living, I’d tried to let it all go… the guilt mostly. Thinking
about her didn’t help. Roe had moved on, gotten married. She
didn’t need me to protect her, but that didn’t stop me from
wanting to make sure she was always safe. Not like I could help her if shit
ever hit the fan. I’d been fucking useless that night.

I pushed to my feet and paced the room. As I made my third or fourth round,
I sat on the edge of the bed again with a sigh. The tension in my shoulders
was back, and I knew no matter how tired I was, sleep would evade me. I
rubbed at my chest, wishing the ache sitting right behind my sternum would
ease.

The silence didn’t help. If anything, it made things worse. I could
hear every creak of the floorboards as I moved. Even my sighs sounded loud
in the otherwise empty space. Maybe I needed to get back to work. Sitting on
my ass around the house hadn’t done me any favors. I still
hadn’t worked up the nerve to hunt down a woman to scratch my itch.
Did I even have an itch anymore? It should have been impossible for me to go
this long without pussy. I hadn’t had sex since…

I buried my face in my hands and inhaled deeply, then slowly blew it out.
Despite how much I didn’t want to admit it, guilt pressed in on me.
The same guilt that kept me from wanting to find someone. The same guilt
that ate at me every day.

I straightened and lifted my head. I’d been the victim of a crime. So
had Roe. The club hadn’t blamed me, and they’d let me stay
without any questions. Don’t know what I’d have done without
them.

Would there ever come a time I could think of Roe without pain piercing my
chest? If I’d known the drinks were drugged, that she wasn’t
willing, I’d have never touched her. But I couldn’t change the
past.

My phone rang, and I jumped, startled out of my thoughts. I reached for it,
my hand hesitating. My jaw tightened when I spied Bear’s name on the
screen. “Yeah?”

“Think you can join us for a drink at the clubhouse?”
Bear’s gruff voice came through the speaker. “We’re going
to shoot some pool, maybe play some cards.”

I didn’t say anything. Hell, I didn’t know what to say. On the
one hand, I could use a drink. On the other, what good was a beer if I
couldn’t stop thinking about Roe?

“We’re worried about you. Don’t want to push, but
you’ve been cooped up in that house for a long damn time. Might do you
some good to hang out for a little while.” Bear’s tone softened,
enough I knew he meant the words.

I ran a hand through my hair and rested it on the back of my neck.
“You’re offering to babysit me?”

Bear snorted. “The fuck we are. I’m saying we need one more guy
for a proper poker game and you’re it. If you want to drink a beer or
shoot a game of pool while you’re at it, so be it.” He huffed
out a breath. “It’s not babysitting. It’s called spending
time with your brothers.”

“I don’t think I –”

“Don’t give me that. If you didn’t want company, you
wouldn’t still be with us. You could have moved on. Instead, you
stayed. That means you’re still one of us, and you need to get your
ass over here. Don’t make me come find you.”

A smile tugged at my lips, but it felt rusty. How long since I’d
genuinely smiled? “Fine. I’ll be there in a couple
minutes.”

“Good. I’m going to set the table up. Don’t keep us
waiting long,” he warned as he hung up.

I stared at Roe’s photo one more time. I kissed the tips of my
fingers and pressed them to the glass. “Maybe someday you’ll be
out of my head. Until then, I guess I’m just going through the
motions.” I nodded to myself and headed to the clubhouse.

As I stepped through the doors, the sounds of my brothers’ laughter,
clinking beer bottles, the scent of leather pulled me in. I paused just
inside the entrance and took a deep breath. Biker life. My life. Why was I
having a hard time reminding myself of that? I let my breath out slowly as I
surveyed the room.

Some of the guys were shooting pool. The old, worn-down pool table had seen
better days. Fox had found it at a garage sale and brought it here a few
months ago. Now that we didn’t have women at the clubhouse, it was a
nice addition. With all the families around here, things seemed to
constantly change. For the better in all honesty.

Bear came toward me and lifted a beer in my direction. I hesitated and then
reached out and took it. He didn’t say anything, just gave me a nod.
Fangs walked over and slapped me on the back.

“Good to see you out and about, brother. You clean up all
right.” He gave me a crooked grin. “Glad you joined
us.”

I handled the beer, my fingers curling around the bottle. I took a few
steps into the room before I froze. I forced a smile that felt more like a
grimace.

It didn’t take long before everyone made it a point to come over and
say something to me. My brothers didn’t blame me for what had
happened, and they did their best to make sure I knew that every day. Even
after Roe left. While that support should have made me feel better, it
hadn’t. Because I blamed myself.

 

 

About the Author

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC
Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde
immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible
women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still
managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde’s website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts
and other exciting perks.

 

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

 

Pre-Order Today

 

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

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Filed under BOOKS

March Teaser Tuesday

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March cover

(Underland MC)

Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense

Date Published: September 13, 2024

 

 

Sometimes the most forbidden love can be the most
irresistible…

 

Violet — My life has never been a bed of roses, especially after I lost my
brother. He gave his life for his country, and without him, I lived in pure
hell. My family was the type you read about in horror books or bad news
stories, but I was doing my best to survive. It wasn’t going so bad. I
went away to college, thought everything would be better… Until I
went to a frat party that went horribly wrong. Now I’m pregnant, lost,
and so very alone. So I did the one thing I told myself I’d never do.
I used my computer skills in a not very legal way to look up my
brother’s best friend — Marcus Blevins. He’s the only person I
can think of who might be able to help me, to keep me from drowning, or
doing something stupid. Never once did I think he’d find me
suspicious. But once he let me in, I knew I’d do anything to
stay.

March – I ran like hell from my old neighborhood by joining the
military, and even after I was discharged, I never looked back. My friend
and brother in arms lost his life. I watched the life fade from his eyes.
There’s no going back after that. How could I ever face his little
sister, Violet? I never once thought she’d track me down — or that
she could — but when she shows up on the clubhouse doorstep, I can’t
help but be suspicious. I have enough on my plate without adding her
problems to it, but once I know what happened to her, I can’t look the
other way. I’ll make them all pay for what they did. The more time I
spend with Violet, the more I realize she’s all grown up… and
the more I fall under her spell. If her brother knew the sorts of thoughts
I’m having, he’d come back from the dead to kick my ass. But
just maybe I need Vi as much as she needs me.

 

Suspense, passion, and second chances — are you ready to dive into this
captivating tale?

 

WARNING: Intended for readers 18+ due to adult situations, language, and
violence. March has a guaranteed HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.

 

March tablet

EXCERPT

“March, Ben knew,” Hatter stated, firm and resolute. “He
knew.”

“Knew what?” I asked, even though I feared the answer.

“That we’re brothers. All of us,” Hatter replied. I knew
what he meant. Sometimes family went beyond blood.

“Brothers ‘til the end,” Cheshire echoed quietly, and we
drank to that unspoken truth.

The silence lingered like a thick fog, heavy enough to choke on. Cheshire
broke it first, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “We’ve
all got ghosts, brother. Some just scream louder than others. You and
Ben… Well, you had a longer history than the rest of us had with him.
And you were right there when it happened.”

No shit. Some nights, I still felt the spray of his blood coating my skin.
The warmth of it searing me like hot coals.

“Damn right,” Hatter added. “Lost too many to count. Each
one leaves a mark, but you keep going. Because that’s what warriors
do.”

My fists unclenched slowly, the white of my knuckles fading back to flesh.
Their words, raw and honest, chiseled away at the walls I’d
built.

“Remember Rico?” Cheshire asked, tipping his chair back, his
blue eyes clouding over. “Took three bullets meant for me. I hear his
laugh sometimes, in the wind. It’s like he’s still here, riding
with us.”

“Rico was a good man.” Hatter nodded solemnly. “Died a
warrior’s death.”

“And Ben… he died a hero’s death,” I murmured,
finally finding the strength to lift my gaze.

“Heroes, every last one,” Hatter agreed. His piercing eyes held
mine, not letting me sink back into the dark. “And we carry them with
us, every mile of the road.”

“Every damn mile,” I echoed, feeling the truth in his words
weave through the pain.

“Look around, March,” Cheshire said, gesturing to the crowded
room. “This is family. We’re your brothers, through thick and
thin. We may not have all made it out of there alive, but our fallen
brothers will live on in our memories. As long as we remember them,
they’ll never truly die.”

I scanned the clubhouse, the familiar scents of oil and leather wrapping
around me like a balm. Laughter bounced off the walls, and the warmth soaked
into me. This place, these men, they were my sanctuary in a world laced with
chaos.

“Family,” I whispered, allowing the word to settle in my
chest.

“Always,” Hatter affirmed, reaching across the table to clasp
my shoulder.

“Let’s drink to that,” Cheshire said, an edge of his grin
returning. He raised his beer, and Hatter and I followed suit, our bottles
clinking.

The tension drained from my body, seeping into the floorboards below. In
its place, something warm unfurled, a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in
a long time. It never lasted. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t. I took what
little bits of solace I could find here and there. It was the only way to
remain even somewhat sane.

“Brothers,” I said, meeting their eyes. The bond between us,
forged in blood and fire, was unbreakable.

“Until the end,” they replied in unison.

For the first time in what felt like forever, laughter bubbled up from deep
within me, genuine and freeing. I was home, surrounded by my brothers, and
for now, that was all I needed. And when the nightmares returned, I’d
have to remind myself of this moment, and all the ones like it we’d
shared since we became civilians again.

The room hushed as I stood, beer in hand, eyes scanning the faces of my
brothers. Each one carried scars, tales etched in flesh and soul. The air
was thick with unspoken understanding, an electric current of shared loss
that hummed beneath our skin. I knew they could tell by the look in my eyes
that I’d been fighting my demons before I came in here. Each man had
done the same, countless times.

“Tonight,” I started, “we remember those who aren’t
here to raise a glass. Ben. Rico. Tate.” My throat tightened, a noose
of grief tugging with every name.

“Vick,” Rabbit said, lifting his beer.

“Jarret,” Tweedle said.

“To our fallen brothers, may the road they ride be smooth and
endless,” I said.

“Ride free,” the chorus echoed back, a haunting melody of
respect and remembrance.

I drank, the bitter brew sliding down my throat. Swallowed past the lump
that never quite faded. With each sip, a silent oath to never forget.

I lowered my bottle, the weight of brotherhood heavy in my chest. A
patchwork family bound tighter than blood could ever dictate. It gave
purpose to the pain, a beacon in the tempest that was my mind.

They didn’t know how much they kept me anchored, these men who shared
my demons. How the roar of engines and their gruff voices were the only
lullabies capable of quieting the cacophony of war that still played on a
loop in my head.

“March,” Hatter’s voice cut through my reflection.
“They’d be damn proud of you.”

“Damn right,” Cheshire added, his smirk betraying the moisture
in his eyes.

Pride mingled with the sorrow, a bittersweet cocktail that warmed from
within. This club, this duty I bore, it was more than a title or a role. It
was a lifeline — a reason to keep pushing when darkness clawed at my
edges.

“Thanks,” I managed, my voice raw. “Couldn’t do it
without you bastards.”

Laughter erupted, a salve to the open wounds. In their company, even the
deepest cuts seemed to heal, if just for a moment.

Once a Marine, always a Marine. But here, in the Underland MC, we were
more. We were guardians of each other’s sanity, keepers of stories too
grim for the light of day. And protectors of this town.

I looked around at my brothers, their faces as hard as the lives we led,
yet there was warmth there too. They were the pillars in the chaos, the
constant in a life that had offered little else.

In the safety of shadows, where the world couldn’t reach us, we were
invincible. And in that moment, I allowed myself to believe it. We’d
already battled several times in this place we now called home, and
we’d been lucky enough to not lose anyone.

Outside these walls, danger prowled, hungry and relentless. It clawed at
the edges of our sanctuary, waiting for a crack to slip through, a weakness
to exploit.

“Tomorrow’s ride is going to be dicey,” I said.
“But we ride together, through whatever shitstorm comes our
way.”

 

About the Author

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC
Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde
immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible
women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still
managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde’s website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts
and other exciting perks.

 

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

 

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Cheshire Teaser

Cheshire banner

 

Cheshire cover

(Underland MC)

 

Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense

Date Published: August 16, 2024

 

 

Cheshire is perfect for fans of suspense and forbidden love stories.

Eliza — Being the daughter of the sheriff might sound nice to most people.
But they don’t know what my father is truly like. All they see is the
mask he wears. The congenial smile, the good deeds, and the way he puts
others before himself. It’s all an act. Behind closed doors,
he’s a monster. One I can’t seem to escape. Until I’ve
finally had enough… my daring attempt to leave home lands me in the
arms of the VP of the Underland MC… and something tells me
there’s no safer place to be.

Cheshire — As the VP of the Underland MC, and former military, I’m
no stranger to dangerous situations. When my club discovers the local
sheriff is corrupting the town of Warren, I know we need to step in. Human
trafficking and abuse are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the
sheriff and his henchmen. But the one thing I never expected to find was
love — especially with the sheriff’s innocent daughter. I’ll
make sure to take the bastard down, not only for the town of Warren, but for
Eliza. I never want to see fear in her eyes again.

Are you ready for this gripping tale of danger and desire?

 

 

EXCERPT

 

Eliza

The room swam in a haze of fear and broken glass. Sheriff Holmes’
face twisted into an ugly snarl, eyes burning with rage. He clenched his
fists, knuckles turning white. This wasn’t anything new for my father.
Just another day in my miserable life.

“Stand up,” he barked, voice like ice. I forced myself to my
feet, trembling like a leaf, tears streaming down my face.

“Please don’t,” I whispered, but my words fell on deaf
ears.

“Shut up!” His fist collided with my cheekbone, the force
sending me sprawling back to the floor. The air rushed from my lungs as if
I’d been sucker punched. Pain exploded through my skull.

This is it. This is how I die.

“Get up,” he spat again, reveling in the torment he inflicted.
The darkness in his eyes chilled me to the core. I scrambled to my feet,
legs shaking, praying for some kind of reprieve.

“Look at you,” he sneered, grabbing a fistful of my hair and
yanking me closer. “Pathetic.”

“Please, stop,” I whimpered, too weak to resist his iron grip.
In that moment, I knew I was nothing to him — just another thing to control
and bend to his will. He’d never think of me as a daughter, as family.
I wasn’t sure a monster like him was capable of such a thing.

“Did you think I’d let you get away with it? That I
wouldn’t find out?” He punctuated his words with a vicious blow
to my stomach, causing bile to rise in my throat.

Can’t breathe. Can’t fight back. Just need to survive. I curled
up to protect my already battered body.

“Learn your place,” he hissed as he landed one final punch,
then turned to leave, his heavy footsteps echoing in my ears.

I didn’t know what I’d done to make him so angry this time. It
could have been anything. Maybe I’d put something in the wrong place.
I didn’t think I’d ruined any of his clothes when I’d done
the laundry. No matter how hard I thought about it, I had no idea what
I’d done.

Blood dripped down my face, each droplet a painful reminder of the violent
flurry that had just unfolded. I stared at the cracked mirror on the wall,
catching glimpses of my battered reflection between the jagged lines. The
pain was unbearable, but what hurt more was the feeling of utter
helplessness.

“Is this it?” I whispered to myself, choking back tears.
“Is this all my life will ever be?”

My eyes scanned the room, taking in the shattered glass and twisted
remnants of what had once been my sanctuary. How could I ever feel safe
again, knowing that he’d violated every inch of this space?

I pressed my hand against my bruised ribs, wincing at the sharp stab of
pain. For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine a world where the torture
ceased, where I could finally be free from his sadistic grip.

“Maybe death would be better,” I admitted, my voice barely
audible. “At least then, I wouldn’t have to live in
fear.”

The thought sent shivers down my spine, but also brought an odd sense of
comfort. In death, there would be peace. No more beatings, no more
humiliation, no more heart-pounding terror that gripped me every time he
approached. Even if there was nothing but a sea of darkness on the other
side, it would be preferable to this.

“Eliza,” my father’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I
realized he was standing in my doorway again. “Don’t think
I’m done with you. If you ever try to defy me again, I won’t
hesitate to end your miserable existence.”

Fear slithered its way into my throat, choking me as I struggled to find my
voice. “Yes, sir,” I managed to whisper, quivering under the
weight of his gaze. I couldn’t ask how I’d defied him. Doing so
would only spark his anger again.

“Remember that.” With one last chilling glare, he slammed the
door behind him, leaving me to wallow in my own despair.

Trembling, I realized that even the thought of death couldn’t save
me. The fear of my father, of Sheriff Holmes, held me captive in a prison
more terrifying than any physical cage.

“Death or life,” I whispered into the void. “Either way,
I’m trapped.”

My heart pounded, and my hands shook. I didn’t even remember my
mother anymore. She’d died so long ago. I thought we were happier
then, but I didn’t know for sure. Had my father always been a
monster?

“No escape.” If I tried… I dragged myself up, wincing.
Bruised, battered, weak. That’s what I saw when I looked in the
mirror. At times like this, I hated myself. If I were strong, would I be
able to stand up to him? Or if I were more cunning, could I escape?

“Damn him,” I muttered, the words barely escaping my swollen
lips.

The sound of motorcycles roared in the distance. I knew they’d belong
to the local motorcycle club. I’d seen them at a distance many
times.

A light tap on my window drew me over to it. “Who’s
there?”

I kept my voice low, not wanting to draw my father’s attention again.
“It’s Maria from next door.”

“Maria,” I breathed, relief washing over me for a brief moment.
We weren’t exactly close, but she’d noticed my wounds before and
done her best to help. Although she too feared my father.

“Open the window,” she urged.

“Can’t be seen together,” I reminded her, my gaze darting
around the room in panic. “He’ll hurt us both. If he thinks
you’re helping me…”

“Eliza, listen,” she said urgently. “I’ve found
help. The Underland MC. I think if you can get to them, they’ll
protect you.”

“Protect me?” I scoffed, disbelief coloring my tone.
“From Sheriff Holmes? No one can do that. It would be different if my
father were anyone else.”

“They can,” Maria insisted. “Those men aren’t
scared of anyone. I don’t have proof, but I think they’re
responsible for something big that went down a few weeks ago.”

“Help from bikers?” I questioned, my mind racing. “How
can I trust them?”

“They look big and scary, but they do a lot of good around town. And
from what I’ve heard, they’re all ex-military,” she said.
“They’re your only shot, Eliza.”

“All right, but how?” I asked.

“Tonight. If you can get away, I can take you to them. I was behind
one of them at the grocery store earlier. Heard him on the phone talking
about meeting everyone at a diner in town.”

“I’ll try.” I didn’t want to think of the
consequences if my father caught me. He might actually kill me.

 

 

About the Author

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC
Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde
immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible
women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still
managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde’s website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts
and other exciting perks.

 

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

 

Pre-Order Today

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Hatter Teaser

Hatter banner

Hatter cover

Underland MC, Book One

 

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: July 19, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

 

 

Jo: I’d thought Eddie was sweet and charming, until I learned the
hard way his smile disguised the devil inside him. He speaks with his fists,
and there have been many times I wanted to die. When I finally manage to
escape, I vow to do whatever it takes to keep away from Eddie. But stepping
out in front of the Underland MC and begging for their help hadn’t
been part of my plan. Now that I’m with the Underland MC, I’m
not sure if I should trust them, even if their club president does make me
feel a bit weak in the knees. Will this be the best decision I ever made, or
end up being the one thing that finally kills me?

Hatter: Becoming a civilian after nearly two decades of military service
made me feel like I’d fallen down the proverbial rabbit hole, so my
brothers and I made the Underland MC. We didn’t have any grand plan.
Then Jo came into my life. The more I find out about her ex, the more I
realize things are rotten in the town of Warren, TN. This place is my home
now, and I not only want to protect Jo, but the townspeople as well. If that
means we’re going to war, then so be it. I’ve never backed down
from a challenge, and I won’t start now.

 

WARNING: Hatter is a contemporary suspense romance that is intended for
readers 18+. It contains bad language, adult situations, and violence. If
you’re looking for a light, fluffy romance, this isn’t it.

 

Hatter book

 

 

Excerpt

 

Hatter

 

“Cheshire, I said no strippers.” I glared at him, my eyes
narrowing into slits as I emphasized each word.

“Come on, Hatter. It’s just a bit of fun,” Cheshire
retorted, his trademark grin never faltering. He leaned back against the
worn chair across from my desk, seemingly unfazed by the intensity of our
discussion.

“Cheshire, this event isn’t about fun. We’re raising
funds for the local kids’ hospital. A bunch of naked girls shaking
their asses doesn’t fit in that picture.” My voice was hard and
unyielding, leaving no room for compromise.

“Fine, fine.” Cheshire held up his hands in mock surrender.
“No strippers. But we need some kind of entertainment. How about a
live band?”

“Band’s fine,” I conceded, rubbing my temples as I felt
the beginnings of a headache forming. These club events always gave me
migraines, but it was my job to make sure they went smoothly. While we
mostly kept to ourselves, at least twice a year we tried to do something for
the community.

“All right then.” Cheshire stood and leaned over the desk,
bracing his hands on top. “I’ll organize the band and take care
of all the other arrangements.”

“Make sure you do.” I stared at him, ensuring my message sank
in. “We can’t afford any screwups with this one.”

“Trust me, boss.” Cheshire winked. “Everything will be
perfect.”

“See to it.” My tone brooked no argument. As the president of
the Underland MC, it was my responsibility to make sure my club stayed out
of trouble and maintained a good image in Warren. The town had been good to
us, and it was important to give back. All right, so it hadn’t been
all sunshine and roses. Not at first. When we’d built this place and
moved in, everyone had thought we were criminals and treated us accordingly.
We’d worked hard to prove we were trustworthy and wouldn’t
destroy Warren.

When we’d first decided to start this club, it had taken weeks to
narrow down where we might want to live. It just so happened, the small town
of Warren, Tennessee, had the perfect plot of land for sale. Far enough from
big cities, we still felt like we were relaxing in the country, but close
enough to anything we’d need, like a grocery store or pharmacy.

Absolem had used his inheritance to buy the land, put up a fence, and build
a clubhouse. With the exception of times we wanted to make sure we
didn’t have people popping up, we’d leave the gates open. It
wasn’t like we had anything to hide. Each of us had a room here, and a
few more to spare. In addition to the men who’d created this place
with me, we’d gathered a few other lost souls along the way, each one
floundering after being discharged from the military, just like us. Tweedle
had been the first. He’d come home so badly broken I hadn’t
known if he’d make it. More than once, I’d worried he might
decide to put a bullet in his brain. Thankfully, being around the club had
helped him heal, even if he still had a long way to go. Knave and Mock had
been next, joining almost at the same time. And Carpenter had been the
last.

“All right.” Cheshire clapped his hands together, finally
taking things seriously. “Let’s get this show on the
road.”

“Damn right.” I nodded. “And let’s remember why
we’re doing this. It’s not just a party. It’s for those
kids.”

“Understood.” Cheshire saluted me, his grin returned to his
face as he turned to leave. “I won’t let you down.”

“See that you don’t,” I warned, watching him stride out
of the room. “Or you’ll be scrubbing toilets with a toothbrush
for a month.”

“Promises, promises.” Cheshire laughed from the doorway.
“I’ll get on it, Hatter. You can count on me.”

“Good,” I called after him, “because if this event goes
south, it isn’t just the club that’ll suffer. The whole damn
town will feel it too.”

The event might be adults only, but we’d charge a fee to enter the
compound for the night. Everyone would kick back with drinks, food, and
music. By the time we closed it down, I hoped we’d have a decent chunk
of change to help those kids.

“Understood.” Cheshire nodded once more before disappearing
into the hallway. I could only hope he’d take my words to heart.

“All right.” I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Let’s get this done.”

The door slammed open, and in walked March, his eyes blazing with urgency.
He was all muscle and grit, an imposing figure who had seen more than his
fair share of shit. For that matter, we all had.

“Boss,” he said, getting straight to the point.
“We’ve got trouble.”

“Spit it out,” I demanded, my pulse racing as worry gnawed at
me. This was the last thing the club needed right now. We kept our noses
clean, paid taxes, and did our best to not draw attention to ourselves. So
what the hell could have happened?

“Rumblings from North Carolina.” March’s voice was low,
serious. “A rival MC’s been sniffing around our territory. Looks
like they’re planning something. And these assholes aren’t like
us. They’re into some nasty shit. If they get their hooks in Warren,
this place won’t be the same.”

“Fuck,” I muttered, my mind racing. “How close are
they?”

“Too damn close.” March growled. “They’ve been
spotted just outside town, and it isn’t a coincidence they picked
here.”

“All right,” I said, my brain shifting into high gear.
“We need a plan. We can’t let them jeopardize what we got going
on here, especially not now.”

“Agreed.” March nodded. “I’ve already put our boys
on alert, but we need to be ready for anything.”

“Good,” I said, my thoughts swirling like a tornado. “I
want you to gather intel, find out everything you can about their movements,
intentions, whatever. The more we know, the better prepared we’ll
be.”

“Roger that.” March saluted, his face set like stone. Some old
habits were harder to get rid of than others. “I won’t let them
get the drop on us.”

“See that you don’t,” I warned. “We’ve worked
too hard to let some wannabe tough guys tear us down.”

“Understood.” March gave a mock salute and turned to leave.
“I’ll report back as soon as I have something
solid.”

“Good,” I called after him. “And keep Cheshire in the
loop too. We need to stay united on this one.”

“Will do,” March replied, his steps echoing in the hall as he
left.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. “Just when things
were starting to look up.”

I knew we had our work cut out for us. Our enemies were relentless, and any
sign of weakness would be like blood in the water. The club was my family,
and there was no way in hell I’d let anyone threaten what we’d
built together.

 

Hatter teaser

 

 

About the Author

 

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC
Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde
immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible
women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still
managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde’s website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts
and other exciting perks.

 

Author on Facebook, Instagram, Patreon, & TikTok: @harleywylde

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

Pre-Order Today

 

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

1 Comment

Filed under Teasers