Tag Archives: Marteeka Karland

Venus Teaser

Venus banner

Venus cover

(Iron Tzars MC)

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Age Gap

Date Published: October 25, 2024

 

 

 

Venus: I come from world filled with violence, death, and impossible
choices. I’ve only backed down from fight once, and that left me with
pain and regret. But now, I have chance to balance scales. I’m known
as most dangerous member of Salvation’s Bane MC. But truth is, beneath
tough exterior, I’m still a scared young woman running from monsters,
trying to protect those I love. That fear ends today. Only problem? Biker
named Piston. Doesn’t know meaning of personal space. He’s
always there, watching me, protecting me, and even though I’d never
admit it, his presence brings strange sense of peace. He makes me want
things I can never have.

Piston: For more than a decade, I’ve been Venus’s silent
protector. In the shadows, I’ve watched her, stalking her every move.
When she settled in Palm Beach with Salvation’s Bane, I made sure to
be close by. I keep an eye on her, guarding her, even if she doesn’t
realize it. But when an enemy from her past threatens her, I step out of the
shadows. Venus is on the hunt, and the monster she’s chasing has
awakened the beast in me. I protect what’s mine. And Venus?
She’s mine.

Author’s Note: Venus’ first person narrative is written in
heavily accented English. Articles (the, a, an) do not exist in Russian
language.

 

Venus paperback

EXCERPT

Piston

Venus first turned up on my radar over a decade ago when she was in the FSB
in Russia. The agency I worked for was very interested in her for some
reason. I was never given the details, but I got the feeling they were
interested in luring her away from Russia. Likely because they were afraid
of her. I played my cards carefully regarding Venus. I told them the strict
truth, but I left out a lot.

Like how I’d never seen her equal in a hunter. Or that that real
shade of her hair was a very pale blonde. Or how young she looked when she
let her guard down, which wasn’t often. Or how beautiful she was. I
kept that to myself because I didn’t trust the CIA any further than I
could piss. If they were interested in this woman, she was someone I needed
to protect.

For years I kept to the shadows. When she joined Salvation’s Bane MC,
I found a home with Grim Road MC. They were completely off the radar and
close enough for me to keep an eye on Venus.

I had to smile. If she knew the extent to which I’ve been on her six
and for how long, she’d gut me like a fish.

But that’s the thing about being in deep cover. You learn how to keep
secrets, even from yourself. And Venus? She was one secret I’d vowed
never to spill. Much to the dismay of my handlers. They knew there was more
to her than I reported.

Tonight, as I held her pinned against me, feeling the rise and fall of her
chest, the stakes felt higher than ever. Her anger and her fire were
intoxicating, making every moment with her a volatile mix of danger and
desire.

“Listen,” I whispered into her ear, my voice low and steady
against the chill night air. “I’m not your enemy, Venus. I think
you know that.”

“I know you are pompous ass.” She hissed at me over her
shoulder, but I wasn’t fooled. If this woman wanted to be free,
she’d be free. And I’d be lying in pool of my own blood.

Interesting.

“Glad to see my charm didn’t go unnoticed.”

She struggled in my hold a bit longer, then relaxed with a huff, her body
still tense but no longer fighting. “You’re infuriating, you
know that, Piston?”

“That’s part of my charm too,” I replied, the corner of
my mouth lifting slightly. I loosened my grip just enough to let her know
she could break free if she wanted. It was a test as much as it was a
truce.

Venus turned within my arms to face me, her gaze fierce and calculating.
She wasn’t afraid of me, she knew she could take me, but she
wasn’t ready to kill me yet. Made me wonder why. One thing I’d
learned about Venus over the years was she never did anything without at
least a frame up of a plan.

With slow deliberate movements, she backed up one step. Then another.

“Is this a truce then?” I kept my hands to my sides, but was
ready to defend myself if necessary.

“I’m not sure.” She gave me a curious look, her gaze
moving boldly over me. Then her brow furrowed. “I’m really not
sure.”

“Then let’s call it a truce. We can always decide later to
resume fighting.”

Venus’s lips twisted into a skeptical smile, but she nodded slowly.
“Fine, truce for now. But don’t think this means I trust you,
Piston. We’re not buddies.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied, my voice low and even.
Her distrust was like a sharp blade held at my neck, yet there was something
exhilarating about not knowing when she might decide to slash. It was all I
could do to keep from smiling. My cock didn’t care if she saw him or
not and shot hard so fast I nearly winced. Thankfully, if she noticed, she
didn’t mention it.

We stood in silence for a moment, the tension between us palpable. The
night air was warm against my skin, and somewhere nearby an owl hooted, a
solitary sound that seemed to emphasize the isolation of our current
circumstances.

Venus finally broke the silence. “So, what now, Piston? We just stand
here in dark staring at each other until one of us breaks?” There was
a hint of amusement in her voice, a playful challenge I hadn’t heard
before.

I shrugged nonchalantly. “We could do that, or we could put this
temporary truce to better use.”

“What do you propose?” Her voice was cautious yet intrigued,
her eyes scanning my face for any hint of deceit.

“We work together,” I said simply. “You have your skills
and resources, I have mine. Together, we can find and kill the fuck outta
Zaitsev.”

“Why do you want to kill him?” She was genuinely curious, but I
knew she was filing away all this information for inspection later.
She’d remember everything about our conversation, my expressions, the
inflection of my voice, and dissect it for every ounce of information. Just
like she’d been trained to do. Same as me.

“Isn’t it enough that his goons kidnapped my vice
president?”

She nodded slowly. “Sure. But I don’t think that’s whole
story with you.”

Smart woman. “I’ll tell you my secrets if you tell me
yours.”

“Right.” She picked up the gun Zaitsev had shot me with,
checking the weapon before tucking it against her back in the waistband of
her pants. “I’m going back to Tzars. Lemon wanted me to check on
Dani.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Lemon. Wanted you to check on her
sister.” I spoke slowly, wanting to make sure I’d heard her
right, because it sounded suspiciously like Venus, the badass assassin for
the FSB, was… running. From me.

Two things were foremost in my mind. First, it didn’t sit well that
she wanted away from me. Granted, she didn’t know me as well as I knew
her, but I was becoming more and more protective of Venus. I wanted her
close where she couldn’t get into more trouble than she could get
herself out of. Though I’d watched her from afar for years (stalker
much?), I liked having her close. I blamed my vice president. Had it not
been for Lemon getting kidnapped, I might never have gotten this close to
Venus for this long. I damned sure wouldn’t have gone with her to kill
the man she’d been trying to take down for a decade.

The second thing, though…

Yeah. Having my arms around Venus — even to keep her from eviscerating me
with her dagger-like nails — awoke something inside me I thought was way
the fuck dead. I was forty-seven years old, for crying out loud. While I had
an active sex drive, I hadn’t been this hard for this long in years.
Hadn’t had a need for it. If I had an itch, I scratched it with a club
whore. No fuss. No muss. And no one expecting to be all up in my
space.

Part of what I did at Grim Road was take care of… issues.
Permanently. I’d love to say it was why I came with Venus on this
errand, but I’d be lying. I’d claimed her in my mind the moment
I’d seen her.

 

About the Author

Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double
life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated
housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes
pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited,
vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a
blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her
writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning
delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying
conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband
with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for
preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts
(which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with
Marteeka’s latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her
website. Don’t forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you
with a potpourri of Teeka’s beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph
events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

 

Author Links

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

Author on Facebook

 

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

 

Pre-Order Today

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Deacon Teaser Tuesday

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Deacon cover

Iron Tzars MC, Book 12

 

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Age Gap

Date Published: September 27, 2024

 

 

Apple — I gave Deacon my heart, but he said I was too young. So he left.
For over a year. Didn’t want me around. Hurt and humiliated, I left
for Grim Road MC. If anyone will understand my need to hide and lick my
wounds for a while, it’ll be my sister Lemon. Of course, Lemon’s
also a royal bitch. When I get shot, first thing she does is call Deacon —
the last person I ever want to see again. Then she sicces him on the man who
ordered the hit. Not sure who I’m gonna kill first — Deacon, or
Lemon.

Deacon — All I ever wanted was to keep Apple safe. To protect her. Mostly
from me. When my president sent me to infiltrate a trafficking ring, I
gladly accepted the assignment. I thought once I was gone, Apple’d
have time to grow up. Fall in love with someone her own age. Someone better.
Then my enemies went after Apple. When Lemon tells me she’s been shot,
her call pushes me over the edge. Now, I’m going to unleash hell.
Maybe then, Apple will forgive me for pushing her away.

Deacon teaser

 

EXCERPT

“I don’t want to wait, Deacon,” I whispered. “Not
anymore.”

“Me neither, baby. But I’ve gotta give you your property patch
in front of the club. You also gotta get inked.”

“But –” He silenced me with a kiss before laying me down on
the bed and covering me with his heavy body. His actions belied his words. I
found the ridge of his cock and rubbed myself against him.

“No, Apple.” His tone was stern, but he continued to kiss me,
nipping at my jaw and neck before placing a lingering kiss to the swell of
my breast. He stood, reaching for me and pulling me to my feet. “Not
until I give you the vest.” He grinned. “And not in the
clubhouse. We’re goin’ home.” He cupped my face and kissed
me once more before unlocking the door and pulling me after him back to the
common room.

Deacon grinned, draping an arm over my shoulders possessively. He looked
proud to have me with him. Several of the guys clapped him on the shoulder
good-naturedly and gave me respectful nods. The Iron Tzars might be as wild
as any other MC, but they were respectful of their women. Besides, everyone
knew Lemon would have their balls if they weren’t. Also, Wylde would
likely have done his worst. Which, he might be the tech guy, but Wylde was
more than what he showed on the surface.

“Deacon!” Roman called to him from across the room. The party
had started, though the place was more sedate than I’d seen in the
past. Especially since me and Lemon were the guests of honor, so to speak. I
was sure that was why there were only a couple of club girls in the area,
and they were there strictly to keep the food coming when Iris told
them.

Deacon raised his hand to the enforcer. Instead of a welcoming smile,
however, Roman looked serious. Like he was displeased in the extreme.

“Deacon? What’s wrong?” I gripped Deacon’s hand in
both of mine, looking up at him. There was a look of dread briefly before
his expression closed off. I glanced back at Roman who was giving Deacon a
hard look in return.

“Nothin’, Applejack,” he murmured, leaning close to my
ear. “I’ll be right back.” Deacon kissed my temple as he
wrapped his arms around me in a fierce hug. He strode to Roman, who took him
into Sting’s office and shut the door. It was over an hour before the
three of them exited the room. Roman said something to Deacon, who nodded.
Sting gripped Deacon’s shoulder, before slapping it in a show of
solidarity and encouragement. Whatever had happened couldn’t be too
bad. Right?

Deacon scanned the room until he found me. He flashed a tight smile before
heading in my direction. Once he reached me, he pulled me back into his arms
and hugged me tightly for several long seconds.

“What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain in a minute. Let’s go home
first.”

“Right now? The party’s just started.” I grinned up at
him. Unease had settled in my belly. I knew something was wrong and
wasn’t sure I wanted to go with him right now. The longer I put off
leaving, the longer I had this one night with him. Because I knew something
was about to happen I wouldn’t like.

“I’m sorry, honey. This can’t wait.” He gave me a
sad, gentle look, but I could see the truth in his eyes.

I shook my head. “I don’t want to, Deacon.”

He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. Gripping my hand firmly, he
tugged me after him. When we got to the parking lot, he led me to his bike
and climbed on. “Ride with me, Applejack.” He held out his hand
for me to grip for balance if I wanted to climb on. He almost willed me to
take his hand.

As if I could deny him anything. I loved Deacon.

He rode me around the property for a while. I always loved the feeling of
the wind in my hair as he sped over the hard paths. It felt like I was
flying. The one time I’d been on the open road with Deacon especially.
Even with a helmet, I’d never felt more free in my life.

All too soon the ride ended and Deacon pulled up outside the little house
we’d been given. I should have been excited. This was the moment
I’d been waiting for. To be at the house with the intention of having
sex with Deacon. Only, I knew that wasn’t going to happen. He
hadn’t given me his property cut. So, whatever was about to happen
wasn’t going to be welcomed.

He helped me remove my helmet and lashed it to the back of his bike. Then
he took my hand and we went inside. Deacon locked the door but stood with
his hands on the door, his forehead against the wood.

Carefully, I placed a hand on his back. “What’s about to
happen, Deacon?” My voice was so soft I wasn’t sure if
he’d heard me, but after letting out a deep breath, Deacon turned to
face me.

“You know I love you, right, Apple?”

I nodded. “Yes. I know.”

“Then I need you to trust me. I’m going to have to wait to give
you your property cut.”

“Why?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but I was very near
tears. “This was the plan. We were going to be together.”

“We will be, Apple. I just need a year. One year. Use it to spend
time with your sister doing stuff young women your age normally
do.”

“What is this, Deacon? I don’t want to go on trips or to
parties unless it’s with you.”

“Honey, there is something I have to take care of. It’s going
to require I be gone a lot over the next several months. I don’t think
it’s fair to ask you to wait for me.”

“Wait… “ Dread washed through me and I shook my head.
“Are you… are you breaking up with me?”

“One year, Apple. Give me a year. If you haven’t found someone
you want more than me, I’ll be home and I’ll beg you to take me
back.”

“Are you going to be with other women?”

“Honey, I swear to you, I’ve not been with another woman since
I made a commitment to you. Not in the whole three years since I’ve
known you. That’s not going to change. Not as long as you’re not
in a relationship.”

I watched him for a long time, studying his expression. His eyes. Looking
for anything that might give me some hint as to what was going on. I found
nothing.

With a sigh, I nodded. “I’ll be waiting on you when you come
home. I don’t want this to be the end.”

He gave me a gentle smile. “It won’t. I promise.”

“Why did you want us to come here? If you’re not giving me your
cut yet, are we still, uh, are we going to sleep together?”

“We’re not going to have sex tonight, honey. But I want to
spend the night with you. I want to hold you all night while you
sleep.”

“We can still make love, Deacon. I want you.”

“I want you too, honey. But I have to leave in the morning. I’m
not sure when I’ll be back, and even when I am, I might not be able to
stay long. I’m not using this as an excuse to take what I want without
committing to you.” He cupped my face in both his hands, leaning over
to brush a tender kiss over my lips. “I’m going to hold you
while you sleep. You’re going to give me this one night. After I
leave, we’ll revisit us in a year.”

“I’ll wait, Deacon. Just… try to talk to me as much as
you can? Make sure to see me whenever possible?”

He smiled reassuringly at me. “I promise to do everything possible to
stay in contact with you, Applejack.”

I took him at his word. He held me all night long. With Deacon wrapped
around me, I’d never slept so well as I did that night. Sure, I woke
occasionally, but only to shift my position. Always, Deacon whispered softly
to me until I dozed back off. It was paradise.

* * *

The next few months, Deacon called me at least once a week. Then it backed
off to once every other week. By the time our year was up, I hadn’t
talked to him the entire last two months before he’d promised
he’d be home.

It was another two months before he finally came back to Iron Tzars MC.
When he did, Deacon wasn’t the same person he’d been when
he’d left.

 

 

About the Author

Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double
life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated
housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes
pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited,
vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a
blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her
writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning
delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying
conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband
with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for
preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts
(which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with
Marteeka’s latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her
website. Don’t forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you
with a potpourri of Teeka’s beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph
events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

 

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

Author on Facebook

 

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

 

 

Pre-Order Today

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

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Ringo Teaser

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Ringo cover

(Grim Road MC)

 

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Age Gap

Date Published: August 23, 2024

 

 

Calista – When my stepfather decides the best way to get himself out
of trouble is to trade me to the man who owns his gambling debts, I know
it’s time to get the hell outta Dodge. Before she died, my mother told
me my real dad was a hero, but what he’d done in the military was so
secret, he had to disappear. She gave me a name and a bunch of numbers to
memorize. Made me repeat them every night for as long as I could remember.
Just before she died, she told me the words Dominic and Grim Road — my
father’s name and the group he belonged to. The numbers were
coordinates for the group’s headquarters — a motorcycle club where I
could find my father. I can’t think of anyone else I can go to for
help. But once I find Grim Road’s compound, I realize there are far
more dangerous things waiting for me there — like a man who could steal my
heart.

Ringo: When a little spitfire walks up to the gates of Grim Road demanding
to see our sergeant at arms, Dominic, I know I’m in trouble. She looks
vaguely familiar, but I can’t quite place her. Something inside me
warns me I need to figure it out fast, though. Preferably before the
prospect manning the gate does something to get himself killed. When she
refuses to leave, he gives her a good, hard shove. The expression on her
face of shock and fear triggers a memory. A little girl — this girl —
falling backwards off the front porch steps into the flower bed. Calista.
Dom’s daughter. Only she’s not a little girl anymore.
She’s the most stunning woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I’m
gonna make her mine. I just need to figure out how to keep her father from
killing me.

 

EXCERPT

When I finally approached the edge of the city, I gave up all pretense of
trying to blend in. I took off at nearly a sprint. The longer I was out in
the open, the greater the chances Sam or one of Borris’s other men
would spot me. I had to make it through a few more city blocks, then across
the highway — another risk since not many people crossed on foot — and
into the woods. Once I had the cover of the trees, I’d find a place to
settle down for the night and hopefully make it to the compound tomorrow. I
didn’t want to get lost, so I had to take the chance they
wouldn’t come this way looking for me. Or, if they did, that
they’d wait until daylight, so they had a better chance of tracking me
accurately.

All I had was an old compass my mother had given me with a tiny map folded
inside tucked into my bra, and the flashlight I’d stolen. No food. No
water. No protection from the elements. Just the compass and map, and a
flashlight. And stories about a place my mother told me about, but I’d
never seen. This was all kinds of crazy, but it was my choice. No one
else’s.

By the time I was deep in the woods and far enough away from the road as I
could safely get, it was full dark. I didn’t want to use the light yet
as it was still early enough Sam might still make a try on the chance I
hadn’t gone far, and Sam might still make a try if he could figure out
where I’d gone into the woods. Plus, I had no idea how long the
battery would last. Hopefully a while. Though I’d thought I was
prepared mentally for a couple of days out in the wild on my own, I
hadn’t thought about how dark it would actually be. And I wasn’t
even thinking about the possibility of snakes.

Or alligators.

The air was thick with humidity, and every leaf seemed to whisper nefarious
secrets as I pushed farther into the undergrowth. My limbs ached, my heart
pounded in my ears, and fear clung to me like the dense fog that began to
roll in from the nearby swamp. The noises of the night grew louder, a
cacophony of insects and distant howls that did nothing to ease my
nerves.

I tried to keep my breathing steady, reminding myself that panic would only
make things worse. The darkness was absolute – even the faint glow of
moonlight struggled to penetrate the thick canopy above. Every rustle in the
bushes sent a spike of adrenaline through my system. Was the noise from a
predator stalking me? Was it Sam? More of my stepfather’s goons? I
wasn’t sure if I was more afraid of giant snakes or my stepfather.
Borris Illivitch was a cold-hearted bastard. When he found out I’d
blazed…  If he caught me, I’d be in a world of pain. Death
would be a release.

I pressed on, trying to use what little moonlight filtered through the tree
canopy to guide my steps. Which… yeah. Occasionally, I’d see a
sliver of moon, but that was it. The air grew cooler as the damp night
deepened, and an occasional breeze should have felt good in the Florida
humidity but only seemed to grate on my nerves instead of soothing me.
Despite the risks, knowing it was a bad idea to stumble around in the dark,
I felt this urgent need to press on. Keep moving. Stay ahead of the thugs I
knew would be after me.

I continued on for as long as I could. When I finally reached the point
where exhaustion overrode the adrenaline, I leaned against a tree. Not the
smartest move, but I was beyond caring at this point. My lungs burned, as
did my leg muscles. I was scraped all over, my clothes even ripped in a
couple places. The only thing I’d risked in standing out with regard
to my appearance was the combat boots I wore. Not uncommon, but also
noticeable. Thankfully my suit pants had been flared at the bottom and had
hidden them. The boots were the only things allowing me to travel as far as
I had.

I knew the general direction I needed to go. My mom had also taught me
landmarks in the area to look for by using child’s nursery rhyme. All
of which she told me about just days before she died. I’d long ago
used virtual maps to find the landmarks she taught me. I was as prepared as
I could be.

I finally stopped and took stock of my body. I had some stinging scrapes
and at some point I’d twisted my ankle, but it wasn’t anything I
couldn’t power through. As the silvery moon moved across the sky, the
light filtered through the trees lessened. I could barely see my hand in
front of my face, let alone anything around me. Or my compass.

I was on solid ground but had no idea what was above or around me. With the
adrenaline falling off, I was trembling. Which was creating more panic. I
was basically defenseless in unfamiliar territory. Yeah. It was time where
the benefits of using the flashlight outweighed the risks.

I switched on the light, shining it around the area. A pair of eyes glowed
back at me and I jumped back, sucking in a breath, but the little varmint
ran off. At least, I hoped it was little.

“OK. OK.” I was talking out loud, but really, I had to do
something other than freak myself out by listening to all the noises around
me. Or look for glowing predator eyes. “I got this. Mom said this
place was miles and miles of swamp, trees, and forest, but if I was careful,
I could make my way through all that to the place my dad lived.

It took a couple of hours, but I finally found a small, rundown shack.
Looked like, at one time, it might have been a hunting cabin, or some kind
of game-watch post. It wasn’t much bigger than a small storage
building but wasn’t completely enclosed. About halfway up the walls,
all around, the enclosure was open, at one time covered with a screen. Kept
out insects but allowed the occupant to see out in all directions. This was
a landmark on my map, and I’d basically stumbled on it.

I went inside the little shack, noting there was nothing inside except a
bench fashioned all around the inside perimeter and dirt and leaves. The
screens had long ago been torn or had fallen apart leaving only ragged
remnants to sway in the slight breeze.

It was ridiculous, but with a roof over my head, even with little
protection from anything, I felt a little safer. Not safe, by any means, but
more… secure.

I set the light beside me when I sank down onto one of the benches.
Carefully, I pulled out my compass and opened it, taking care with the
delicate piece of paper folded inside it. Opening it up, I confirmed what I
already knew. I needed to head straight northeast. Like, this place had been
put in this exact position to use as a landmark. My mother had given me
three at various points around the center structure I was trying to get to.
Each landmark pointed in a precise direction, so I had no doubt these spots
were carefully thought out and deliberately placed as guides. If you knew
the coordinates. And had a map. Which I did. A treasure map, if you
will.

From my current position, I estimated it would take me about six hours to
walk. It wasn’t that far, per se, but walking in the woods and swamp
was tricky going. The accepted estimate was to allow thirty minutes for
every mile walked. I guess I’d find out how far off that estimate was
when I found the place I was looking for.

And my dad. Unfortunately, I had no idea if he knew I existed. If he did,
there was every possibility he wouldn’t accept me or even want me in
his life. Which was fine. I just needed his protection long enough to make
sure Borris Illivitch gave up looking for me.

Turned out, I made better time than I thought I would. Even in the dark. I
literally stumbled into a big guy with a full beard. He scowled down at me
even as his hands went to my shoulders to steady me. I expected his fingers
to bite into my flesh, but he was surprisingly gentle.

“Who the fuck goes there at four-thirty in the fuckin’
mornin’?”

About the Author

Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double
life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated
housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes
pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited,
vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a
blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her
writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning
delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying
conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband
with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for
preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts
(which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with
Marteeka’s latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her
website. Don’t forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you
with a potpourri of Teeka’s beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph
events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

 

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

Author on Facebook

 

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

Pre-Order Today

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Mama & Pops Preorder Blitz

Mama & Popsbanner

 

Mama & Pops cover

Bones MC Legends, Book One

 

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: 7/26/24

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

 

Somerset, Kentucky. My home. Or it was. Coming back from Nam was a
friggin’ shock. No one wanted us there, but no one really wants us
back here, either. In their eyes, we’re all guilty. Guess I feel the
same way about them. I don’t belong anywhere. Maybe I never really
did.

Except with Mama. For me, meeting Mama was like a dime novel. Fell for her
almost the moment I laid eyes on her. Knew she’d be mine after our
first kiss. Of course, convincing her took a little time. But it’s
because of Mama I have a home and people I care about now. I may be a badass
soldier, but she’s the hardest, coldest warrior I ever met. Yet she
has more compassion in her than any ten people I know.

This is the story of how Bones MC was born, and why Mama and me keep to the
shadows. Since we met, we’ve always had each other’s backs. No
one knows all our secrets, not even those closest to us. Other people have
come and gone in our lives, but it’s always been me and Mama. This is
our story.

 

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 Marteeka Karland

 

Sgt. Michael (Mike) Wilbanks

Louisville, Kentucky, 1968

 

“This right here is some happy horseshit.”

I glanced at the woman beside me who spoke in a low, wistful tone.
She’d been on the same plane as I had coming from San Francisco.
Though the bag she carried had an Army medical insignia, she’d dressed
in street clothes. There was a hard look about her that I’d seen many
times during my tours in Vietnam. We hadn’t spoken during the flight,
but she was hard not to notice.

She looked to be in her mid to late twenties, carrying herself with the
confidence of a warrior. My eye had been drawn her way automatically from
the moment she’d stepped on the plane. I’d pegged her as the
most dangerous person on the plane — other than myself. Looking at her now,
I was reevaluating that notion. The woman might be even more dangerous than
I was.

“One’d think those people had jobs to go to.” I
wasn’t sure if that was the “happy horseshit” she was
referring to, but I chose to make it about the protesters. I’d
encountered groups like this in every fucking airport I’d stopped in
on my way back. To say I was spoiling for a fight was the understatement of
the fucking century.

“One would think.” The woman didn’t look my way or seem
interested in conversation. Instead, she was scanning the crowd. Not like
she was looking for someone in particular, though. I’d seen that look
many times. She was looking for a threat. VC on the trail!

I shook my head, shaking away the memory. The war wasn’t over yet,
but it was for me. “You expecting trouble?” Her vigilance — and
my own demons — had my radar pinging.

“Always.”

I had travel plans, but there was something about the woman that made me
walk beside her through the Louisville terminal instead of making my way to
my own gate. She was tall, maybe five-ten, with shoulder-length
strawberry-blonde hair. She wore a sleeveless shirt that showed off lean,
muscular arms. Everything about her screamed confidence, strength, and
control. I’d met a few Army nurses who had similar looks about them,
but this woman was different. She carried herself with purpose, her duffle
slung over her shoulder like my own. Like she was on a mission and no one
was going to stop her, even if she had to kill to get them out of her way.
She didn’t speak again or acknowledge me, but she didn’t tell me
to back off, either.

The terminal wasn’t particularly crowded, though there might have
been a hundred people in the area. All I wanted to do was secure the bike
I’d procured the second I’d gotten back to the States and
fucking ride. I’d been offered a chance to join an MC called Iron
Tzars, but I wasn’t sure they were really my thing. Their causes were
noble and any killing they did wasn’t indiscriminate, but I’d
had my fill of death in country. Even for those who needed killing.

Boom!

A shot rang out and all around us people screamed, ducking for cover.

Boom!

A nearby window shattered as the round hit, sending glass shattering to the
floor and the concrete outside. I scanned the crowd for the shooter before
glancing where I knew the woman had stood. Same as me, she was looking
around for the shooter. I saw the exact moment she spotted him. Her features
hardened and she looked angry as fuck as she squatted next to me, behind the
nearby counter. “Fucker’s military.”

“Can’t say I blame him given the reception we got when we
landed. Wouldn’t be my first choice of things to do,
though.”

Her gaze went to mine. “You any good in a fight?”

I shrugged. “Good as any, I guess. Ain’t armed.”

She shook her head. “Me neither.”

“Got a plan?” If she didn’t, I’d come up with one,
but this woman looked like she’d been expecting trouble and knew how
to deal with it. If she knew the soldier in question or had known this was
going to happen, she’d have a plan. I’d follow her lead until
she proved she didn’t know what she was doing. One thing I’d
learned in Nam was that often it wasn’t the most educated man or the
highest-ranking officer who could get you out alive.

“He’s not aiming at anyone in particular. I’ll talk to
him. See if I can get him to surrender peacefully. You position yourself
behind him and be ready.” She gave me a pointed look.
“I’ll be counting on you to take him down before he shoots
me.”

“Fuck,” I muttered. “Maybe I better try to talk to
him.”

She gave me an exasperated huff. “Do you honestly think I can take
him down myself? I’m strong, but he’s easily twice my
size.”

“You ain’t makin’ this easy, woman.”

“What’s so fuckin’ difficult about it?”

Her scowl was hard enough to trigger my well-trained instincts. I wanted to
snap a salute and bark out, Yes, sir!

“Be ready. Take him down if he looks like he’s gonna shoot me
or anyone else.” She tilted her head, giving me a puzzled stare.
“You ain’t got battle fatigue, do you? You don’t act like
you’ve had all you can take.”

“No. I’m good.” I scrubbed a hand over my face.
“Just don’t like puttin’ a woman out front to use as bait.
I should be the one takin’ the risks.”

“Well, I mean, if you want to risk your life when he’ll
probably be able to shake me off the second I go for him, fine by me. But I
trust you in that regard more than you should trust me. The odds of you
gettin’ killed are way higher than me.”

I stared at her until another boom went off followed almost immediately by
another window shattering. “You’re gonna give me all kinds of
fuckin’ trouble, ain’t you?”

She grinned. “Trouble’s my middle name. Get in position.
I’ll wait until you’re behind him.” She pointed at the
barrier next to the stairs and I saw where she meant.

“Yeah, that’s where I thought I’d wait. I’ll let
you know when I’m ready.”

We stared at each other hard for a moment before she spoke.
“What’s your name, soldier?”

“Sergeant Michael Wilbanks. At least, that was my rank when I was
discharged.”

“Honorable?” She raised an eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes and pointed at my Army issue fatigues. “Of course.
Still wearin’ the uniform, ain’t I? Re-upped after my initial
tour. Not this time, though. Had enough of the killin’.”

She nodded. “Dr. Josephine Peyton, Captain, US Army. Or I was. You
can call me Jo. I got a four-six-one discharge for ‘inadequate
personality’ ‘cause I told a general touring our field hospital
to suck my dick when he said the men in my ward were sacrificed for the
greater good, then couldn’t tell me what the fucking greater good
was.”

I couldn’t contain my bark of laughter. “Promise me, when this
is over, you’ll let me take you out on a date.”

Josephine smirked. “Well, I guess that depends on whether
you’re able to take this guy down or not. I won’t go out with a
pussy.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

She shrugged. “If it gets this guy to stop shootin’ the place
up, take it however you like.”

Another boom broke the moment. People screamed all around us, but the only
person I saw was Jo and her pale blue eyes. Before I could think too much
about it, I leaned in and wrapped my hand around the back of her neck,
pulling her in for a hard kiss.

 

About the Author

Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double
life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated
housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes
pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited,
vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a
blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her
writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning
delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying
conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband
with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for
preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts
(which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with
Marteeka’s latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her
website. Don’t forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you
with a potpourri of Teeka’s beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph
events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

 

 

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

Author on Facebook

 

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

 

 

Pre-Order Today

 

 

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Bear Preorder Blitz

Bear cover

A Bones MC Romance

Grim Road MC, Book 5

 

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: July 12, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

 

Olivia: I’ve been sent to infiltrate Grim Road — specifically
looking for any information to do with the man they call Bear. I
didn’t expect to jump into the man’s arms on the first try. I
also didn’t expect to feel an illogical sense of belonging and safety
when he whispered in my ear, “You’re safe.” My deception
will probably get me killed. I’m not a damsel in distress, at least
not how they think. But I think Bear knows I’m lying. He just
doesn’t seem to care.

Bear: Yeah, I know the girl’s lyin’. I also happen to believe
she has a good reason. If I can get her to trust me, then I can make her
demons disappear. But trust is hard-earned. Even if I earn hers, can I trust
her after she started out with lies? Do I really care if she’s lying
as long as she’s mine? Trouble’s following this girl. And
it’s headed straight to Grim Road.

 

WARNING: Bear includes scenes of graphic violence and adult situations
including those that may be triggers for some readers. There’s also a
protective hero, a determined heroine, and an eventual happy ending. No
cheating, as always.

 

Bear teaser

EXCERPT

 

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2024 Marteeka Karland

 

Bear

I hated venturing out into the city. Always made me feel like there was a
target on my fucking back. My true identity was buried so deep even facial
recognition software couldn’t find me, but since I’d been in my
twenties, I’d spent my life running. The government saw to that.

What I thought was a service to help my country turned into a killing spree
on the order of genocide. I’d disobeyed my orders but ended up on a
Terminate with Extreme Prejudice list. Rocket, the closest person I had to a
friend, had brought me to Riviera Beach, Florida, where I’d taken up
with the motorcycle club, Grim Road. The club’s history was long and
distinguished in hiding men like me. I’d been here ever since.

It was nearly midnight on a Saturday. The streets weren’t exactly
teaming, but several bars were open, which was where most people were this
time of night. Some headed home. Others milled about enjoying the evening
air. It wasn’t cool by any means, but the night brought in a breeze
from the ocean that wasn’t stifled by the heat of the sun during the
day. This was my favorite part of the night.

“You lookin’ for somethin’ in particular or just
wishin’ you could go back and change your life choices?” Ringo,
our enforcer, sidled up next to me, handing me a beer.

“Thanks,” I said as I popped the top and took a long swig.
“Just thinkin’. Ain’t much for bein’ out of the
compound.”

“Oh, I know. Which is why I followed.” The other man gave me a
half smirk, half smile.

“Right. That, and Lemon probably told you to have my
back.”

He chuckled. “Little witch is certainly big on that kinda shit. But
no. You’ll be happy to know I did this all on my own.”

I gave him a side eye. “Really. You tryin’ to keep me honest?
Afraid I’m out to betray the club?”

Instantly, Ringo’s whole demeanor changed. “Hey, now. Jumping
to conclusions there, Bear?” Ringo raised an eyebrow. “Of all
the men in this club, you’d be the last one I’d accuse of
betraying the club or anyone in it. Fully expected Rocket to make you his
VP. I’d have supported that.”

I snorted. “No way in fuckin’ hell I want that job. Besides,
Lemon is much better suited.”

“Ain’t sayin’ she’s not. Just sayin’ I was
surprised when Rocket didn’t put your name in the hat for the job long
before Lemon came on the scene.”

The two of us headed down the sidewalk. Kind of felt like we were
patrolling the area. There were several bars and clubs here, and some of
them weren’t altogether safe. A couple times a week, I’d taken
to walking up and down the strip. I wouldn’t say I was looking for
trouble, but I wasn’t opposed to stopping trouble if it found me. The
self-imposed job got me out of the compound as well as extended some measure
of protection to the community which pleased the VP to no end. I
wouldn’t exactly call the city our community, but I got the impression
that’s what Lemon wanted it to be. Crush and Byte worked continually
to strengthen all our identity covers. Rocket wasn’t opposed, so I
took this as my due diligence. I was doing my part, however quietly, to set
an example to the other members. It’s how I did things.

“He offered.” I shrugged. “Not my thing.”

“Oh, really.” The bastard smirked and I wanted to beat the shit
outta him, but restrained myself. Barely. “Was that before or after
you corralled us all and put the idea of voting Lemon in as VP, or
after?”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna do it. Someone had to, and she was the
best choice. You look me in the eye and tell me who else in Grim would be
doing a better job than Lemon, and I’ll volunteer that
bastard.”

Ringo chuckled. “Right. I’ll get on that. But you have to
promise you’ll be the one to break the news to Lemon.”

I snorted. “Not on your fuckin’ life. Girl might be small and
young, but she’s vicious like no man I’ve ever met. You tell her
your own Goddamn self.”

We stared at each other a moment before Ringo’s lips twitched. Once
that happened, we both broke down into chuckles. Neither of us would be
suggesting a replacement for Lemon.

The conversation eased something inside me. Like I knew Ringo had my back
or something where always before I’d kind of felt like I was on my own
in the middle of a crowd. Yeah, I knew if I were really in trouble, outside
of a mission, I could count on my brothers. Always had. But it was different
now.

“Thanks, man. I think I needed that.”

“For what? The reminder that a little five-foot-nothing girl is
making a better vice president than you?”

I snorted. “No, dumbass. The laugh.”

Ringo grinned. “Wait till I tell Lemon you were wanting to replace
her.”

“Whoa. Not cool, bro. Besides, it was you who brought it up. And I
will totally throw you under the bus if you start that
bullshit.”

God, it felt good to banter with Ringo. I’d had that kind of
atmosphere a couple of times on jobs for the CIA, but it was never as
relaxed as it was now.

I took a deep breath and rolled my head on my shoulders, easing some of the
tension that always seemed to be there when I ventured too far from the
compound. It wasn’t that I was scared. It was more like I felt like
someone was watching. Just waiting to make a move.

I could handle myself in an ambush. Fuck knew I’d been in that
situation before and had come out on the other side. Worse for wear maybe,
but the other guys fared far, far worse. Always.

Ringo snorted. “Glad to be of service, brother.”

We continued down the street. The sound of people partying or generally
having a good time filled the night. Each time we passed a bar, the scent of
alcohol hit us. Occasionally someone would be smoking a joint or a cigarette
and those scents would blend in as well. Passing a strip joint brought the
cheap perfume into the mix.

I was about to suggest we go inside one of the strip clubs, just to pass
the time with something different when I spotted a woman making her way down
the sidewalk. Something about the way she moved was just that little bit
off. She glanced behind her, then straight ahead. She hesitated, then
continued moving.

“What’s goin’ on there?” I asked the question more
to myself than to Ringo, but the other man zeroed in on the woman
immediately.

“Not sure. Could be she’s just lost.”

“Right,” I agreed, though I wasn’t so sure. Something
about her posture wasn’t right. “Could be.”

“Uh-huh.”

We both continued forward but at a slower pace. Grim Road MC wasn’t a
secret club, per se. The club was known to the locals, just not where the
clubhouse was or who any of us were beyond our road names. To everyone
around us, we were simply another motorcycle club in the area around Palm
Beach. As such, we wore our colors proudly. So, when the girl got closer to
us, and we slowed down, we wanted her to know what we were.

I stopped while Ringo turned slowly around in a circle with his hands out,
letting her see the emblem on the back of his vest proclaiming him a member
of Grim Road.

She let loose a little sob and ran the rest of the way to us. To my
complete and utter shock, instead of stopping when she reached us, the girl
threw herself into my arms, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck.

And I’ll be Goddamned if my whole body didn’t come alive. Lust
I’d never even dreamed about punched me in the dick before sucking me
into its mouth and making me hard as a fucking pole. The scent of her was
like something out of a dream. Fresh spring flowers and a dash of cinnamon.
She was slender, but I could feel every single one of her slight curves
against my big body. She was so small I could easily wrap my arms all the
way around her with room to spare. Unfortunately, instead of moaning and
finding my mouth with hers, she trembled in my arms. I didn’t think it
was from desire. Her mouth at my ear was a sinful promise. Until she
spoke.

“Angela,” she whimpered. “I need Angela.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” I said loudly. “Missed you,
too.” I chuckled, swinging her around happily. What I was really doing
was putting my body between her and the two men I now saw following
her.

I didn’t acknowledge the men. Instead, I strode down the sidewalk
with her still in my arms. Ringo had my back. If he couldn’t
discourage the guys, I could get her far enough away she could get inside to
the relative safety of a bar or club. Then, I’d help Ringo help these
motherfuckers have themselves an accident.

When I rounded the corner with her, I set her on her feet, but kept hold of
her hand. Everything inside me rebelled at the separation. I wanted to pull
her solidly against me again but needed to make sure I had one hand free if
Ringo needed me. Stepping from behind the wall, I eyed Ringo. He stood where
I’d left him, but the men were already gone. Ringo took slow looks
around the area as he backed toward me. I gave a low whistle, and Ringo
turned and hurried in my direction.

“Get to the bikes.” Ringo’s order was delivered in a
crisp voice. “They didn’t keep following after you picked her
up. You spoke and they backed off. Still don’t want to take a
chance.”

“To Knox’s place?” I knew we couldn’t take her to
the compound. Not without precautions. If the guys had truly backed off, she
wasn’t in immediate danger. If they hadn’t, we’d
reevaluate when we spotted them.

Ringo nodded. “I’ll be on your six. Just gonna let Rocket know
what’s goin’ on and that we’ll call him when we know
more.”

I grunted, but tugged her with me and hurried to my bike.

 

About the Author

Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double
life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated
housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes
pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited,
vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a
blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her
writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning
delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying
conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband
with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for
preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts
(which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with
Marteeka’s latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her
website. Don’t forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you
with a potpourri of Teeka’s beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph
events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

 

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

Author on Facebook

 

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

 

Pre-Order Today

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

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