Tag Archives: Motorcycle Club Romance

by Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez | June 11, 2024 · 5:00 am

Morgue Teaser Tuesday

A Bones MC Romance

Iron Tzars MC, Book 11

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: June 14, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press

Dorothy: Spring Break turned into my worst nightmare. Drugged and held
against my will, the brutality I witness seems too horrible to be real.
Unable to escape, unable to do anything other than await my fate, I nearly
gave up hope. Then he burst through the door like an avenging angel. My very
own angel of death.

Morgue: I’m a straight-up killer. It’s what I’ve trained
for my entire adult life. I got my road name because I’ve put more men
in the morgue than all my brothers combined. So when we rescue a group of
women being held by human traffickers, I did what I do best. I killed. But
not for all the women we rescued. For her. Dorothy. My very own angel of
mercy. Now that I have her, I’ll do anything to keep her. I just hope
she can accept what I am and not condemn my soul to hell.

WARNING: Morgue 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.

Excerpt

Dorothy

Moans of the other women in the shitty little shack filled the air. I knew
the feeling. My head throbbed and every muscle in my body ached. The rooms
were paper thin so we all could hear the screams of the others around us.
The cruel laughter of men. The frightened whimpers of the women. And girls.
I had absolutely no idea where I was or how long I’d been there, but I
knew it wasn’t Kansas.

“Levántate, perra. Afuera.”

“I don’t understand.” It wasn’t a new thing. And
I’d paid for not knowing Spanish more than once since I’d been
taken.

“¡Ahora!” The guy knew I didn’t understand. It felt
like he took pleasure in the fact I didn’t understand so he could
single me out. I shrank back, trying to make myself smaller in the face of
the brutality I knew was about to happen. He lunged forward and backhanded
me before grabbing my arm and shoving me out of the tiny room I shared with
five other girls.

I hit the floor, my knees slamming onto the hard dirt. Pain shot from my
knees up my thighs, and I cried out. When I tried to get up, the guy kicked
me in the side. My head spun with all the sudden movements. I thought it was
also some kind of lingering effect of the drugs they kept shooting me full
of. They did it to everyone who fought. Unless they wanted us to fight. I
got dosed often.

“Perra estúpida,” he muttered. I got the
“stupid” part, and I could only assume the other was
“bitch,” but it could have been anything. The kick knocked the
breath out of me and sent pain exploding through my ribs. I groaned but knew
better than to make too much of a fuss. Noise drew attention I didn’t
want. Attention meant someone was about to hurt me worse than I already
was.

“¡Escuchen!” The big brute swept his hand through the
air, obviously wanting everyone’s attention. He spoke in a string of
rapid-fire Spanish I didn’t understand. I was pretty sure something
horrible was about to happen and I sincerely hoped it didn’t have
anything to do with me. I’d been here maybe a week. Seemed like
longer. I was surprised this guy or the men and women with him hadn’t
done more than terrorize me or the other women. Though I was sure the
qualifier “yet” needed to be added. There was no way
they’d brought us here for tantalizing conversation. Though I’d
been smacked around a lot and was covered in bruises, they hadn’t
seriously harmed me. Again, there was that fucking qualifier hanging over my
head.

I crawled very slowly to the wall where the other women were, trying not to
make sudden moves so he didn’t bring his focus back to me. The one
thing I knew for sure — in spite of the language barrier — was that I
absolutely did not want any of these men to focus on me for too long.

All the women around me were whimpering and trembling, looking as terrified
as I felt. A few looked like they might have checked out and I didn’t
blame them. If I knew how, I probably would too. Fighting back didn’t
seem like the smart thing to do if I wanted to live. While I knew there were
fates worse than death, I wasn’t ready to contemplate them just yet. I
was sure, at some point, I’d have to face that decision, and I
wasn’t looking forward to it.

More rapid-fire Spanish followed as one of the other men dragged a young
woman down the hall and tossed her to the ground so she skidded several feet
before rolling to her knees with a whimper. She’d been beaten, one
side of her face swollen. I hadn’t seen her before, but, given the
track marks on her arms and how badly she’d been beaten, I was certain
she’d attempted to escape. They’d likely dosed her as much as
they’d dosed the rest of us when we got out of line. Only, this time,
I got the impression this guy was done taking shit.

“Esto es lo que les pasa a las perras que no me obedecen. Si no me
obedeces, esto te pasará.”

I didn’t understand. But I didn’t have to. The next thing I
knew, he’d drawn out a machete. The girl screamed and tried to
scramble back only to be held in place by two more men. A third helped them
wrestle her to the ground onto her back. Once they had her down, the third
guy held her legs at the ankles. There was a whoosh as the blade cut through
the air and came down on her right thigh.

Blood arced when he raised the machete and brought it down again on the
same leg. It took three more tries before he hacked her leg off and started
on the other one. Everyone screamed, myself included. When anyone turned
away, there were men to force them to turn back. And watch.

Before he got her second leg hacked off, the woman was unconscious. There
was blood splatter everywhere, but once a limb was completely severed, the
bleeding slowed dramatically. Still, the men tied tourniquets above the
stumps.

I’m sure I was one of the women screaming. If I was, though, I had no
memory of it. All I could process was a young woman getting her legs chopped
off.

“Esto es lo que sucede cuando intentas escapar.” He spat on
her. “Una puta sin piernas es más fácil de follar.
¿Sí?”

I stared at the unconscious woman. Though he hadn’t killed her
outright, I was sure she wouldn’t last long. One of the men grabbed
her wrist and dragged her out of the room, leaving a trail of blood as he
went.

As I watched, one of the men approached me with an evil smirk on his face.
“In case you’re wondering,” he said in thickly accented
Spanish, “He said this is what happens when you try to escape,
Americana.” He grinned. “And a whore without legs is easier to
fuck.” He snorted a laugh. “I happen to agree. So, I’m
really hoping you try to escape too.”

I barely held back a sob of despair. I knew he was trying to elicit a
response from me, likely to give him a reason to hit me. There were some of
us who tried to fight back when they came for us, but we were always
overpowered. So far, all they’d done was beat me, but most of the
others had been brutally raped and I knew that’s what they were
building up to. This was a whorehouse of sorts. Only, the women didn’t
get paid. The men who “owned” us did. A place where we were all
used and trafficked.

The guy backhanded me when I didn’t respond to him. I fell back with
a cry, covering my head with my arms and whimpering.

“Don’t worry, bitch. You won’t suffer long. I doubt you
make it a month once we start breaking you in.” He gave a bark of
laughter before kicking me.

My head swam from both the blow to my face and the remaining drugs in my
system. More men crowded us in the tiny corridor only to shove us into
various rooms. There were five more women in the room I landed in. Three
filthy mattresses lay on the floor and a bucket sat in one corner for us to
relieve ourselves. That’s the way it had been since I’d been
here.

The next thing was the men coming to shoot us full of whatever drug they
were using. I suspected it was heroin. A couple of the girls screamed while
the other three complied easily. Probably because they were addicted or
figured it was better to endure whatever happened next while blissfully numb
than stone-cold sober. I understood. While I couldn’t put up much of a
fight this time, I wanted to. Desperately. I hadn’t given up hope of
getting out of here alive. Not really. Not yet. But I wasn’t too
ashamed to admit I was fucking close.

A man held my arm while another jabbed a needle into my arm at the bend of
my elbow and pressed the plunger. The pain of the dull needle sinking into
my arm was soon replaced by a sickening euphoria. My eyes glazed over and my
body went limp. I was still conscious, but… detached.

That was when one of the men shoved me onto a mattress and pulled at my
clothes. He was breathing heavily and talking in Spanish, but I got the gist
of what he was saying. He was going to fuck me. I caught the word
“Americana” and figured he was taking bragging rights by fucking
the American woman. They all looked at my blonde hair and blue eyes, going
so far as to pry my eyes open and touch my eyeball, like a child testing if
something was real. Maybe they thought I had contacts or something. Many of
them felt my hair, fisting it and mimicked wrapping it around their cocks. I
imagined far worse was going to happen shortly.

I whimpered but couldn’t even form words to tell the guy to stop. Not
that it would have done any good. I batted at him weakly, but he
didn’t seem to notice much less even acknowledge I was trying to fight
him off.

Once he had me naked from the waist down, the guy crawled on top of me,
pressing me into the filthy mattress. He reached between us and freed his
cock. I could feel the head of it touching me. I shuddered, gagging as I
pushed at him weakly.

“No!” I tried to shout the word at him, but it was a whisper at
best. Just as he was about to penetrate me, there was a huge bang and the
door splintered, throwing pieces of wood all around the room. I was sure
some were embedded in my skin, but I still couldn’t do more than try
to roll away from the man on top of me.

He shouted, pushing himself to his feet. Once his weight was off me, I
crawled as best I could to the corner of the room and tucked myself into a
ball. It was all I was capable of. I couldn’t even cry. Oh, tears
poured freely from my eyes, but I didn’t have the strength to sob out
my fear and frustration.

I thought there were screams all around me, not only in this room but in
others nearby, but it was hard to tell. The more I tried to move, the more
the room spun. Somewhere in the background of all that, and the ringing in
my ears, I knew a fight raged. Was it more men coming to chop off the legs
of someone else? Oh, God!

Then someone grabbed at my arms. I was helpless to stop them. I thought I
was even more groggy than I had been when I was about to be raped. Whatever
drug they’d given me had started to take hold. It was only the
adrenaline coursing through my veins that kept me conscious.

“Hold on, honey. We’re gettin’ you outta
here.”

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

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Tagged as Marteeka Karland, Morgue, Motorcycle Club Romance

by Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez | May 29, 2024 · 5:00 am

Kit-Kat Preorder Blitz

(Maw of Mayhem MC)

Paranormal, Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: May 31, 2024

Grimdarke James’ problems have gone from bad to worse. Ousted from
his MC and on the run, all he wants is to keep Kit safe while he sets things
right. But calling in a favor drops more than trouble into his lap.

As he tries to salvage what’s left of the Maw of Mayhem, forces close
in on them and tensions rise. New allies are found and old loyalties are put
to the test. So is Grim’s relationship with Kit when someone from his
past tries to come between them.

Kit doesn’t share and the threat to her position as Grim’s mate
raises her hackles. With her heat triggered, she’s running on instinct
and battle lines are drawn. Can Grim win back his MC, and prove he’s
the man for her, or will he lose it all?

EXCERPT

Grim stalked out of the break room, riffling his hair. How the fuck had
everything gone to shit so fast? He blew the messy locks from his face and
frowned, glancing around the garage —

And did a double take at the trio of bikes by the bay door. Brick and
Wrench’s hogs, and Grim’s Bobber. How had that made it out of
the city? Holy — He stumbled over to them, not quite believing his bike was
really there. One of the crew must’ve ridden it out of the garage
before the club blew, which meant Stitch had left his down there.

Christ, he’d abandoned his own bike to snag the Bobber? A lump gummed
up Grim’s throat. You only did that kind of shit for your alpha.

He swallowed, gritting his teeth and hating himself. How much of this
clusterfuck could he have avoided if he’d just sucked it the fuck up
and owned the position after Clay’s murder?

Guess he’d never know.

Grim blinked, his eyes hot. Fingers trailing down the leather seat.
Listening to the click and ping of the engine cooling. Avoiding the rest of
the crew packing up. He frowned, guilt eating at him, his stomach a fucking
mess. Staring at the bathroom door, willing it to open.

For Kit to come out on two legs.

Come on, baby… Hands down, she was his priority, but Jesus fuck, the
rest of the crew depended on him, too, and they all needed to get gone.
Clay’s refusal to take a mate abruptly made more sense than Grim
wanted it to. Some part of that equation was gonna get fucked, and
he’d be damned if it was gonna be Kit unless she was squarely on his
dick.

Kat say anything else to you? he asked his cat.

— no. fighting with Kit —

Grim grunted, the angst of having to choose between his mate and his club
landing a gut punch of shame. Christ, he knew what that was like. Being at
odds with your beast. The terror of feeling trapped inside yourself, of
sinking down so fucking deep you didn’t know if you could come
back.

[CHAGRIN]

— different —

Same, Grim snapped. Shit was close enough, less the cuffs. He rubbed at the
scars on his wrists, the lines of ink blurred and broken. The memory of the
snick of silver setting his teeth on edge. That creeping, seeping burn
infecting his veins with its poison.

He wiped the sweat from his brow. Yeah, he knew how it felt, and granted,
he wasn’t keeping her there, but he’d sent Kit on that downward
spiral by pushing her to change. Jesus, he was a piece of shit. A sad laugh
slid from his lips.

But fuck, that’s what everyone thought anyway, wasn’t it? The
media, the rest of Mayhem… Mama Roe sure as hell did, and he was
about to go kiss her fucking —

Grim’s breath caught as the bathroom door swung open and Kit strode
out, looking classy as fuck and like the last person he should be with.
Triss dropped the crap she was packing into the cage’s trunk and ran
over to hug her.

Christ, he wanted to do the same… but, damn. Grim wet his lips. Kit
wasn’t… Damn. She was wearing that soft sweater he’d
snagged from the vamp queen’s trophy closet. Shit was fucking sinful
the way it hung off her shoulders and clung to her tits. The jeans
she’d been so crazy about did the same to her hips, a sliver of her
flat stomach flashing as she raised her arms to hug the girl back. And when
Triss skipped away, and Kit turned toward the cages?

Woman was a fucking goddess.

Grim bit back a groan at the way her long black hair dusted her ass as she
bent to put her bag in the trunk. She looked like a million fucking bucks,
which was easily nine hundred ninety-nine thousand and change above his pay
grade.

— ours —

The pang in Grim’s chest echoed the truth of that statement. Maybe he
didn’t deserve her now, but he’d fucking bust his ass until he
did. If she still wants us. His throat bobbed at the possibility she
wouldn’t after what he’d done to her.

— asked to shift —

Yeah, but the idea of being a shifter versus the reality of it were two
very different things, and Grim’d only known Kit for a hot fucking
minute. When they’d met, she’d been so damned adamant she
didn’t want to change.

— Reaper decided for her —

Grim’s knuckles whitened. And he’s gonna die for it. Darke
chuffed in agreement.

A growl welled up in Grim’s throat, his eyes narrowing.

Asorav had ended his call and wrapped his hand around Kit’s arm,
pulling her off to the side. He spoke to her adamantly in hushed tones in
the next bay.

— listen? —

Yeah. Grim stepped back into the shadows, his hearing sharpening.

Kit was smiling up at the vamp like he’d caught her at something. She
was trying to play it off as he was talking. “…understand the
temptation to eavesdrop on one’s elders, but strongly suggest you
resist the urge.” Asorav looped her arm through his, and a muscle in
Grim’s jaw twitched at the asshole’s familiarity with her.

— known her longer —

Don’t remind me, Grim muttered. He still couldn’t believe Kit
had been the Darkling’s dog walker.

“There are those that do not take kindly to such invasions of
privacy,” the vamp scolded.

Kit’s eyes widened, her pupils waffling —

Grim did a double take. Shit, did I really see that? Aside from the mirror,
he’d never seen anyone else’s flip between theirs and their
beast’s.

— did. Kat’s scared. Won’t talk —

He bit back a growl. Was that fucking right?

“Which is why you’re only getting a warning.” The vamp
patted her hand like some kind of benevolent fucking uncle. Grim’s lip
curled, knowing that grift all too well. He was gonna beat the shit outta
—

“Vampires really can read minds?” Kit squeaked. “I
thought –”

Wait, what? Grim froze.

“Yes and no,” Asorav said. “Your compatriots’
thoughts are closed to me, but it seems you and I share an affinity.”
The asshole chuckled. “Yes, it surprised me as well. However, after
Cecelia –”

“I want to know what you meant when you said she was
elsewhere.”

Asorav sighed, and Grim had to smirk at Kit’s indignation over the
MIA Pomeranian. “I don’t totally understand it,” the vamp
said, “but I believe she’s trapped somewhere between.
It’s… the place one goes to get from here to there. I’m
afraid I can’t explain it any better than that. She wasn’t
strong enough to anchor my form at this end, and when I pulled, she was
sucked in.”

Well, that sounded like total bullshit, but Grim supposed the prick
couldn’t admit to killing the thing. In either case, Kit sounded like
she bought it.

“Because she was your heart. Aryanna told me you were a
day-walker.”

“Did she now.”

Grim scratched his stubble, wondering how much of an issue that was gonna
be. Vampires were enough of a pain in the ass at night. One lurking around
24/7 didn’t exactly give him the warm fuzzies, but then again, this
conversation didn’t either.

“… mentioned you couldn’t be, um, de-animated, without
your heart.” Kit said, rubbing her arms like she was cold.
“Don’t worry, she’s not around anymore to note it in the
queen’s memoir.”

Asorav laughed, and Grim wanted to smash his fist through the vamp’s
fangs. “How delightful. I never could understand how Aryanna abided
that vitriolic shrew. I’m only sorry I wasn’t there to see it,
but suppose that’s neither here nor there, and you, my dear, most
certainly are. She told you, then, of my Maker’s triumph?”

Kit nodded like she was humoring him. Grim rolled his eyes. Fucking vamps
had sticks shoved up their asses almost as far as the witches. Christ, they
were pretentious fucks.

“It’s a metaphor, you know,” Asorav said. “She
wasn’t my heart; she had my heart. The spell transformed the physical
organ and created a bridge, tying our life forces to those we held dearest.
It was genius, really. Love is such a fickle thing, and given a
vampire’s lifespan, in most cases, transfers quite organically before
the object of our affection dies… or is lost, in this
case.”

He pulled a wide, platinum bracelet from his pocket, studded with what Grim
was positive were diamonds, and closed Kit’s fingers around it. The
fuck? “And it seems once again, my heart has been captured by another.
I assure you, I am aware this is most inconvenient, but, as I said, the
heart wants what the heart wants, now, doesn’t it?”

Grim bared his teeth, knuckles white as he clenched his fists. Had that
motherfucker just given Kit a fucking king’s ransom in jewelry and
told her he loved her?

— no, his heart —

I don’t give a fuck, she’s MINE.

About the Author

AK Nevermore enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases coffee, and gives
up sarcasm for Lent every year. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’s a
certified chef, restores antiques, and dabbles in beekeeping when
she’s not reading voraciously or running down the dream in her beat-up
camo Chucks. Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to
become medicated, she writes Science Fiction and Fantasy full time. AK pays
the bills writing a copious amount of copy, along with a column on SFF. She
belongs to the Authors Guild, is an RWA chapter board member, volunteers for
far too many committees, teaches creative writing, and on the rare occasion,
sleeps.

Contact Links

Follow AK Nevermore on Amazon

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

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Tagged as AK Nevermore, Kit-Kat, Motorcycle Club Romance, Paranormal

by Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez | May 21, 2024 · 5:00 am

Rebel Teaser Tuesday

A Dixie Reapers Bad Boys Romance

Savage Raptors MC, Book 5

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: May 24, 2024

Isy — Being the daughter of a Dixie Reaper isn’t as wonderful as it
sounds. Not when your dad expects you to be this perfect little princess who
never causes trouble, never dates, and just… sits on a shelf
collecting dust. It sucks. When I get the chance, I run. I didn’t
exactly have a destination in mind, but ending up in Bryson Corners turned
out to be a good thing. The first Savage Raptor I saw, I claimed. I should
feel bad for Rebel, but… he’s just so sexy, and now he’s
all mine!

Rebel — You know the saying be careful what you wish for? I should have
listened. I wanted a family and fate literally threw Isy into my arms.
I’d thought I was saving her. It never occurred to me she’d
announce she was my girlfriend. Although, I have to admit there’s
chemistry between us. It’s hard to keep my hands off her. I’d
thought the kidnap attempt was a one-time thing, but I was wrong. Isy has a
stalker, and I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe. She’s mine,
and I’ll make damn sure everyone knows it!

WARNING: Rebel is an insta-love story intended for adult readers. It
contains violence, stalking, bad language, and adult situations.

EXCERPT

Rebel

The scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke clung to the air, setting the
perfect tone for a typical night at the Savage Raptors MC clubhouse. I sat
perched on a worn-out barstool, nursing my drink and taking in the rowdy
chaos around me. The clubhouse was alive with the sounds of laughter,
cursing, and the clinking of glass as my brothers let off some steam.

I could have gone to a bar in town, but the beer here was free. Sort of.
The club treasurer took a percentage of the club take for any jobs and
funneled it over to an account used for stocking the bar. Even though we
hadn’t had a lot of runs lately, we’d picked up two local
businesses. Bought them cheap when they were about to close up, so now we
had a gas station and a honky-tonk. Both brought in good revenue.

I wasn’t much for country music, so I avoided the honky-tonk unless I
had no other options. It was always lively. Lots of pretty girls there too.
Unfortunately for me, I apparently looked more like the good-time guy than
boyfriend material, because they only ever wanted one night. There were
times that was perfectly fine. Most of the time I was looking for something
else. Not that I’d admitted as much to anyone.

“Fuck yeah, man!” Stinger shouted from across the room, landing
a winning shot on the pool table. Ever since Atilla decided to follow the
Dixie Reapers’ example and ban club whores from the compound, our
clubhouse had changed quite a bit. Of course, we were a smaller club, so
we’d never been as rowdy anyway.

Now, instead of women, we had a pool table, dartboard, and a poker table. I
had to admit, I much preferred it this way. The women who came here were
nothing but trouble. Although, Truth had kept them in line before.
He’d disliked most females, and certainly hadn’t respected them,
until he met his wife. He’d changed a lot since Madison came into his
life. They’d even adopted a son, which mellowed Truth even more.

When he’d wanted to claim Madison, I’d thought for sure Atilla
would tell him no. The way he’d always treated women, he was the last
one I’d expected to settle down. Now my brothers were all falling, one
after another. We’d gone from all being bachelors to four of us having
families.

I couldn’t help but crack a smile at my brothers’ antics as I
watched them. We were a family — a ragtag group of misfits bound together
by brotherhood and loyalty. But beneath the camaraderie and wild nights,
something gnawed at me, leaving me restless and itching for more. It
wasn’t precisely a new feeling, but one that was steadily growing with
each passing month. It started a few years ago, and clearly wasn’t
going away.

“Nice shot, Stinger!” I called out, raising my own bottle in a
toast before taking another swig. My gaze drifted around the room. Even
though I sat by myself, I wasn’t alone. Not here.

General and Spade were locked in an intense arm-wrestling match, veins
bulging and sweat pouring down their faces as they strained against each
other. A few brothers had gathered around them, placing bets on who would
emerge victorious.

“Come on, Spade, you got this!” someone yelled, egging him on
with a slap to his back.

“Fuck that, General’s gonna wipe the floor with his ass!”
another voice countered, earning a snarl from Spade. Yeah, probably not the
brightest idea to piss off the club’s VP. Whoever had made the comment
was most likely going to get the shit jobs for a while. Or forced to scrub
toilets both here and at our businesses.

I’d been living this life for years — the booze, the bikes, the
women — but it all felt so hollow now. Like I was missing the one thing
that would make it all worthwhile. I still hooked up with women sometimes,
but not recently. In fact, I hadn’t been with anyone in over three
months. I always got tested afterward, just to be safe. Being with random
women wasn’t the smartest thing to do. Even a condom wasn’t
foolproof.

The feeling I’d had wasn’t one I’d been able to label
until recently. Helping out Cowboy’s son, Jackson, in the past few
weeks had certainly made an impact on me. He’d been willing to do
anything for his wife and kid, and it had taken me a few days to realize I
was jealous as hell. I’d had no reason to be, until I came to the
conclusion the restless feeling inside me was because I wanted a family of
my own. Not just a brotherhood, but a wife and kids.

“Hey, Rebel!” Stinger called out, snapping me from my thoughts.
“You want in on the next game?”

“Maybe later,” I replied, tossing him a grin before taking
another swig of my beer. My mind refused to let go of the thought there
should be more to life than this — something deeper, more meaningful. And I
was determined to find it, whatever the cost. Not that the town of Bryson
Corners was crawling with women I’d want to claim for more than a
night. If it was, they’d all given me a wide berth. Maybe I
wasn’t the kind of man they thought would want a lasting relationship.
I needed someone who could handle living with the club, accept this way of
life. Some might think it sounded amazing, but the reality would most likely
send them running at some point.

My gaze drifted across the clubhouse, finally landing on Lynx and Atilla,
who were seated nearby, beers in hand, deep in conversation.

“Man, I never thought I’d see the day when Grizzly would let
his daughter be part of our world,” Atilla chuckled, taking a swig
from his bottle. As the President of our club, he’d never backed down
from a challenge, and always kept us in line. “It’s too bad
he’s not here to see how much progress Meredith has made. She’s
almost like a different woman these days. May Grizzly’s soul rest in
peace!”

“I honestly thought he’d lose his shit and demand I send her
home,” Lynx said, running a hand through his reddish hair as he
smiled. “But Meredith’s been a true blessing in my life.
Wouldn’t trade her for anything. We have a good life here, and I hope
he’s watching over her and sees that she’s right where she
belongs.”

“Damn straight,” Atilla replied, raising his bottle in a toast.
“To love and brotherhood.”

The genuine smiles spread across their faces struck a chord within me.
There was a depth to their happiness I had yet to find in my own
experiences. It gnawed at me, a hunger no amount of drink or late-night
escapades could satisfy. Family. What those two had with their women was
more than I’d ever thought to have for myself. Except now, I wanted it
more than anything. I was only in my thirties, and I knew a lot of brothers
my age who weren’t ready to settle down. Some would say I still had my
entire life ahead of me, but why spend all those years alone? Easy pussy
wasn’t as satisfying as it had been a decade ago.

“Rebel, you all right?” Lynx called out, noticing my stare. I
hadn’t realized how long I’d been watching them.

“Uh, yeah. Just thinking,” I said, offering a half-hearted
grin. “Guess I zoned out for a minute.”

“Careful, brother. Don’t wanna strain that little brain of
yours,” Atilla teased, his laughter echoing through the room as Lynx
joined in.

“Fuck off, old man!” I shot back. Thankfully, he knew I was
joking, otherwise the Pres would have put me on my ass.

I couldn’t help but envy their camaraderie. I’d noticed those
who had settled down with a woman and kids seemed closer than ever before.
It made me feel left out.

“Seriously, though,” Lynx continued, his expression sobering,
“if you ever need someone to talk to, we’re here for you. Looked
like you had something heavy weighing on your mind.”

“Appreciate it,” I replied, giving them a nod. But as their
laughter resumed and they dove back into their conversation, my thoughts
continued to churn. If I was going to find a woman around here, I would have
by now. I’d lived in Bryson Corners most of my life. But unless I ran
into her on a run to another city or state, it wasn’t likely I’d
have the chance to search for my one and only. Not anytime soon.

My eyes flicked back to Lynx and Atilla, the sight of their contentment
only deepening my desire for something more. And as the noise and chaos of
the clubhouse washed over me, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t settle
for anything less. I needed to find that missing piece, the connection that
would make my life complete.

Lynx’s phone went off, and he stood to go outside to answer.
He’d only been gone a few minutes before he returned, his face pale
and his hands clenched into fists. I wondered what the call had been about,
but I wasn’t going to pry. He sat down and leaned closer to Atilla.
Whatever he’d said made Atilla check his phone as well. The Pres let
out a curse and disappeared down the hall to his office.

As curious as I was, I knew if it was anything club related, I’d find
out eventually. I only hoped it wasn’t anything too bad. With the way
Lynx looked, I knew it wasn’t good news, though.

As the night wore on, I slouched on my barstool, arms braced on the bar top
in front of me. I twisted my empty beer bottle, trying not to feel sorry for
myself. No one had approached me so far. Probably thought I was drunk off my
ass, and honestly, I was getting close. How many beers had I had already?
I’d lost count.

“Another round?” Benjamin asked. The Prospect held out a bottle
toward me, and I nodded. He popped the top and handed it over.

“Rebel, you ever think about settling down?” The question came
from Ace, our newest member, who sat two barstools down from me. His eyes
sparkled with mischief, and I wondered if he was about to try setting me up
with a stripper or some stranger he’d just met. Wouldn’t be the
first time. He’d done it to every single man here at one point or
another. Last time he’d tried it with me, she’d been a no-show.
I counted myself lucky.

Poor Knuckles had ended up with a stripper who’d been high as a kite.
He’d caught her shooting up during their date and walked out. Good
thing too since she’d OD’d later that night. If Knuckles had
been with her at the time, the police would have given us hell. Last thing
we wanted was a spotlight on us.

“Me? Nah, not my style, man,” I replied dismissively, unwilling
to share my true thoughts with anyone just yet. I knew my brothers would
give me shit if I admitted I wanted a wife and kids more than
anything.

“Fair enough.” He chuckled. “You’re older than me
but still young. Plenty of time for that I guess.”

“What about you?” I asked. “Since you brought it up, do
you have your eye on someone? Or were you just trying to unload some
unwanted attention?”

He laughed and shook his head. “No, to both, but I have to admit,
Atilla, Lynx, Maui, and Truth all look pretty content these days. Makes me
wonder if they’ve figured out the secret to happiness.”

“Hey, Rebel,” a sultry voice whispered in my ear, snapping me
out of my reverie. I glanced over to see Raven, a dark-haired beauty who
frequented the club, sliding her hand up my thigh. When the hell had she
gotten here? “Wanna have some fun?”

She wasn’t a club whore, and never had been. Which was why Atilla
allowed her to come to the clubhouse sometimes. However, she had a tendency
to hang out with a few of my brothers and seemed to worm her way into this
place on occasion. Like now. I didn’t know why she kept targeting me,
but she wasn’t my type. Too high maintenance.

I’d be willing to bet it took her over an hour to get ready every
day. I’d seen her around town often enough to know she fixed her hair
and makeup like this all the time. Had to admit I wondered what she’d
look like fresh out of the shower, but I doubted she’d ever let
someone see her like that.

“Thanks, Raven, but not tonight,” I muttered, brushing her hand
away. Her pout did little to entice me. The move was too practiced.

“Suit yourself,” she huffed, stalking off to find another
willing participant for her games. Of course, there was always the chance
she was angling for a property patch. If that was the case, she’d be
better off trying to con Stinger into taking her.

“Damn, Rebel. You turning down Raven?” Ace whistled, his
eyebrows raised in surprise. “You must be going soft. I know the two
of you have hung out a few times. Not to your taste anymore?”

“Shut the fuck up,” I growled, taking a swig of my beer,
welcoming the bitter taste. I’d played pool with her twice, and on a
night I’d been too drunk to stand up straight, I’d fucked her in
the bathroom. No one wanted to let me forget it either.

I’d always been fiercely loyal to my brothers, but as the night wore
on, the truth became clear: I needed something more — someone who saw
beyond the leather and tattoos, who could fill the void inside me. And until
I found her, I felt like I’d never truly be whole.

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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Tagged as Harley Wylde, Motorcycle Club Romance, Rebel

by Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez | May 8, 2024 · 5:00 am

Knox Teaser

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Age Gap

Date Published: May 10, 2024

Evelyn: My life fell apart right before my eyes. The fire and losing
everything we had was bad enough, but when my boyfriend’s father
convinces me to go to the hospital, the one thing me and my kids had left
evaporates like a plume of smoke when I see their father with his…
pregnant wife. Not only do I feel like a complete fool, I’m left to
explain things to my children. Then there’s Knox. He’s my
boyfriend Danny’s older brother. The one everyone thought was dead.
The one who’s an older, bigger, scarier version of Danny. He is so
gentle with me and my children, so protective when he has no reason to be.
He’s also the man I have no hopes of resisting.

Knox: I let my family think I was dead for fifteen years. There were
multiple reasons. Not the least of which was securing a steady income for my
father after Danny blew through everything he had. I tried to keep tabs on
them, especially after Mom died, but I didn’t dig deep enough. As a
result, Danny’s girlfriend, Evelyn, is in the crosshairs of something
very sinister. Once I find out who’s responsible, there will be hell
to pay. No matter who brought death to those I love, I will make them pay.
When I do, I’ll be putting the loyalty of my club to the test. When
it’s all over, I hope Evelyn will be able to forgive me. Because
I’ve fallen in love with my brother’s woman and no one will come
between us. No one.

WARNING: Knox 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.

EXCERPT

Evelyn

Fire.

Smoke.

I clung to Luke and Aneshya, trying my best to shield them from the chaos
around us. We coughed as we tried to make our way down the hall, but the
smoke was so thick, it was pitch-black inside the cramped space.

“We’ve gotta get out of here!” Mr. Knoxville from across
the hall was the children’s grandfather. The man always looked out for
us, even when his son couldn’t. “Evelyn!”

“We’re over here!” I clutched my children close. We had a
damp bed sheet over the three of us, but it wouldn’t do much for long.
The smoke was getting thicker and there was no way a bed sheet was going to
protect us from fire. “I can’t find Danny! He was just
here!” I coughed and coughed as I sucked in a lungful of smoke with
every breath. Luke tried to push me down, but I resisted. I needed to get my
family to safety and that included Danny.

“Mommy, we need to go!” Aneshya sounded frantic, a round of
coughing taking her as well. Luke stopped shoving at me and blanketed his
sister, taking her to the floor.

“Crawl, Aneshya! Mom! Come on! Now!” Luke was only twelve, but
he was protective of both me and his sister. “Grandpa! Make Mom follow
us!” He tried to take charge and I knew he was right. But my long-term
boyfriend and the kids’ father, Danny, had been beside me only a
moment before. I couldn’t just leave him.

Mr. Knoxville suddenly appeared in front of me. He was in his late
seventies, but the man was fit and strong as an ox. And protective as they
came. I thought it might be where Luke learned it from. If Danny had
inherited the trait from his father, he never showed it to me. Or the kids,
really. As evidenced by the fact that it was his father and son trying to
take care of me and Aneshya instead of Danny.

“Don’t worry about him, Evelyn.” Mr. Knoxville looked
hard and almost dangerous. When he looked like this, it made me want to do
anything he said without question. “He’s a grown man.
You’ve got to get the children out. Now!”

“But Danny –”

“Will be fine. Or he won’t. Your first priority — my first
priority — is you and the children.” I’d never heard Mr.
Knoxville speak so harshly to me. He was always the one to help me when
Danny didn’t come home. Or when Danny got mean. The kids were older,
but I didn’t like leaving them alone. Mr. Knoxville was always so
sweet and kind. But then, this situation didn’t call for sweet and
kind. “Now get them and yourself out of here, Evelyn!
Now!”

Luke and Aneshya were crawling on the floor down the hallway of our
apartment building. Mr. Knoxville pushed me to my belly and urged me to
crawl after the kids. The smoke was more tolerable low to the ground but
still surrounding us. I choked with every breath. The fire was mostly behind
us, but it was spreading. I thought I could hear sirens off in the
distance.

“Keep movin’, girl! Don’t stop!”

“Luke!” I called out to my son, the smoke so thick and dark
I’d lost sight of him and Aneshya as I lagged behind.

“We’re at the stairs!” Luke coughed again, his voice
faint in the distance separating us. I could hear Aneshya coughing too. I
hated that they had trouble breathing but was also grateful they were on the
move. “Hurry, Mom!”

“I’m coming, Luke!” I crawled faster. Mr. Knoxville
touched my ankle, urging me forward each time I hesitated. “Keep
going! Get your sister out!”

“You keep goin’ too, girl. We’re gonna get outta
here!” Mr. Knoxville’s voice was tight, and he coughed several
times as he continually shoved me along.

The roar of the flames was growing louder. Heat billowed in a great rush
from the flames I was certain were ready to bear down on us.

I heard the children cry out. Pain? Were they hurt?

“LUKE! ANESHYA!” When I sucked in another breath to scream
again, I breathed in smoke which started a coughing fit. My lungs burned and
spasmed, making it nearly impossible to take in another breath. I tried to
keep moving, but it was all I could do to breathe. Panic tightened around my
neck. With the smoke suffocating me, it really felt as if someone were
actually strangling me.

I stumbled to my feet, needing to get to my kids as fast as I could and
crawling wasn’t getting it done. I called out to them with every
breath I could suck in. Then strong hands grabbed my shoulders. In the
blackness of the smoke all around me, those hands were the first indication
I had there was someone in front of me.

“Get down.” The gruff voice was muffled, and I realized he had
on a mask. Firefighter? Then he shoved me back to the floor and pushed me to
give me direction. “Keep crawling that way. The stairs are a few yards
in front of you.”

“My children! Did you see –”

“They’re on the way out.”

“Mr. Knoxville’s behind me –”

“I’ll get him.”

“Danny –”

“I said go, woman! We’ll be right behind you.” He urged
me onward, and all I could do was crawl in the direction he said. I hoped,
since he’d sent me in that direction, he knew the way was clear. I
trusted that my children were in that direction.

The farther I went, the heavier the smoke. Right up until I descended half
the flight of stairs on my hands and knees. Coughing, I stood and hurried as
fast as I could. With the receding smoke, it was easier to breathe. To
move.

“Mom!”

“Luke?” I sobbed in relief as I recognized my son’s
voice.

“There she is, Luke!” Aneshya sounded strong. Not like
she’d been hurt or couldn’t breathe.

Then I was in the arms of my son, my daughter clinging tightly to me as
they moved me out of the apartment building. I barely made it out into the
grass before I collapsed, my legs finally giving out. I clutched Aneshya to
me as tightly as I could. Luke had his arms around me but was still trying
to get me to move farther away from the building.

“It’s not safe here, Mom. We need to get farther
back.”

“Mr. Knoxville.” Panic filled me. Did the older man get out?
“He was right behind me. Where is he?”

“The fireman said he’d make sure you both got out.”
Aneshya tugged at me, following her brother’s lead as usual.
“Come on, Mom. Let’s go.”

I sucked in breath after breath of clean air. Each breath seemed to bring
on more coughing, but I managed to get it mostly under control. “Where
are the other firemen?” I looked around, not seeing anyone other than
a few bystanders. I could hear sirens off in the distance getting closer,
but no one was here yet.

“Not sure,” Luke said with a frown. “First responder,
maybe? But he said he would get you and Mr. Knoxville out and for us to go
on.”

“We were waiting for you.” Aneshya’s voice broke and
tears made tracks through the streaks of soot on her face. “I thought
you’d gotten lost.”

It was then Mr. Knoxville stumbled through the same exit we’d managed
to escape through. The fireman was right behind him.

“Mr. Knoxville! Oh, my God! Are you all right?” I hurried in
his direction, trying to put the man’s arm around my shoulders so he
could lean on me if necessary. I should have known better. My knees were
weak already. There was no way I could hold the older man’s weight.
Instead, I found him holding me up with an arm around my waist as he urged
us farther away from the building which was more and more engulfed in
flames.

The guy coming up behind Mr. Knoxville was huge. He towered over all of us
and was solidly built. He still had on a full-face mask with SCBA gear but I
could see his face through the clear plate. The man looked familiar, but I
couldn’t quite place him.

“Please! My boyfriend, Danny! He’s still in there
somewhere!”

Instead of going back inside immediately, he turned to Mr. Knoxville.

“Up to you.” Mr. Knoxville had leaned over with his hands
braced on his knees while he coughed, same as the rest of us.
“Fuckin’ prick left his children in a burnin’
fuckin’ buildin’.”

“What?” I gasped in surprise, looking up at Mr. Knoxville. Not
only had I never heard the other man swear like that, but he was accusing
Danny — his own son — of deserting us in a crisis. “No! Danny and I
have had our problems, but he’d never leave his kids. We got
separated. He’s still in there. Probably looking for us! You have to
find him!”

The firefighter took off the mask, and it was like I was looking at a
slightly older, bigger, much scarier version of Danny. I sucked in a
breath…

… then immediately started coughing. Luke was at my side when I
collapsed on the ground on my knees. I fell forward onto my hands in the
grass, coughing uncontrollably.

“We need to get Mom to the hospital.” Luke handed me a bottle
of water. I had no idea where that came from, but I took a gulp before
promptly coughing again. I glanced over at Aneshya. She had a worried
expression on her face but wasn’t coughing anymore. Luke looked like
he wasn’t hurt either, but I had to be sure. Both of them were
streaked with soot.

“Are… you…” I gasped. “Are you…
hurt?”

“No, Mom.” Luke was quick to reassure me.
“Aneshya’s fine too. Drink some more.”

The next thing I knew an oxygen mask was placed over my face and the Danny
look-alike was in front of me, holding my gaze with a steady one of his
own.

“Take deep breaths, honey.” He put what looked like an inhaler
in the hole at the side of the mask and squeezed it. I felt the mist from
the spray enter my lungs as I inhaled. I still coughed, but after a few
seconds, the pressure in my chest relaxed a little. After another lungful of
air and more coughing, he did it again. After that, it wasn’t long
until the pressure in my chest eased almost entirely. I still coughed, but
it felt different. Like the coughing was actually helping to clear my lungs
instead of being a futile effort.

“Mom?” Aneshya looked up at me with worry in her expression.
She’d wiped her face with something, washing some of the soot off, but
smearing it over her face.

“I’m okay, sweetie.”

“Fire and EMS are on the way.” The man kneeling in front of me
moved the mask long enough to urge me to drink some more water before
replacing the mask. “Just take some slow, deep breaths. I gave you an
inhaler. Got something to help with the spasms in your lungs. Might make
your heart race a bit, but nothing too bad.”

“Who are you?”

He glanced over at Mr. Knoxville who was looking at him with a combination
of pride and relief. If there were tears in the gruff old man’s eyes,
I was sure it was from the smoke. “Denver. Boy…”

“It’s Knox.” He stood before his face split into a grin.
“It’s good to see you, Pop.”

About the Author

Author Contact Links

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

Author on Facebook

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

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Tagged as Age-Gap, Knox, Marteeka Karland, Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense

by Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez | April 16, 2024 · 5:00 am

Axel Teaser Tuesday

Hounds of Hell MC, Book 3

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense

Date Published: April 19, 2024

Sadie — I finally found the courage to escape my abusive boyfriend, but I
didn’t make it far. I’m holed up in a small Virginia town called
Mercy. There will be no mercy for me if my ex finds me. Thanks to Axel, the
gorgeous biker who towed my car to his garage, I have a place to stay and a
job at the town’s greenhouse. I also have the hope that I might have a
second chance at love one day, with Axel.

Axel — When I got called to tow a broken-down car to my garage, I found
the beaten and battered angel who owns it on the run from the devil. Here in
Mercy, with me, she’s healing and learning to live again. When her ex
figures out Sadie’s here, even his mafia ties can’t protect him
from me. His entire mafia family can’t take back what’s mine and
there’s going to be hell to pay when they try.

EXCERPT

Axel

It was a cold February morning. Alexander Harper had just sat down with his
first cup of coffee when his phone hummed in his pocket. When he pulled it
out and looked at the screen, he saw the call was from Cowboy Pete’s,
a local gas station just off the interstate.

“This is Axel,” he said, using the road name he’d been
given by Razor when he’d been a prospect.

“Hey, hon. How are you?” He recognized Elsie Damron’s
voice. She’d worked at the gas station since he was a kid.

“Cold,” he said. “What can I do for you
today?”

“A young lady stopped for gas a little while ago,” Elsie
explained. “She filled it up but now her car won’t
start.”

“You give her bad gas?” Axel asked, grinning.

“No,” Elsie said. “Well, I hope not. There’s smoke
rolling out from under the hood. Looks like it’s overheating to me.
Can you come take a look at it?”

“Yeah.” Axel knew the quiet morning was too good to be true.
Putting the call on speaker, he placed his phone on his desk, grabbing a tie
from his desk drawer to pull his hair back from his face. “Did you
already call Tyler? I appreciate the business, but it would be a lot closer,
and cheaper, to tow it to his place.”

“Yeah, I know,” Elsie said, her voice dropping to a loud stage
whisper. “But I think you would be better for this particular
situation.”

“Okay, I’ll head that way,” he told her.
“What’s she driving?”

“He’s going to come get you,” Elsie said to someone there
with her. To Axel, she said, “Yeah, it’s an older sedan. A
Lincoln, I think. What model year is your car?”

Axel couldn’t make out what the other person said.

“It’s a 2002 model,” Elsie told him.

“Give me thirty minutes,” Axel said, ending the call.

Taking his coffee with him, Axel headed back into the shop. His twin
brother Ryder was working on an SUV brought in yesterday. Ryder looked up
when he saw Axel approach.

“Where you off to?” Ryder asked.

“Got to tow someone in,” Axel told him. “I’ll be
back.”

When Axel reached Cowboy Pete’s with the tow truck, there were
several cars there. They had a halfway decent grill inside the station, and
it was a popular breakfast stop for town regulars and travelers alike. He
pulled into the lot and parked, heading in to have Elsie point out the lady
and her car.

Elsie grinned when she saw him at the counter. “Thanks for coming,
hon. She’s a couple of spaces down from where you parked. The black
Lincoln.”

“You bet,” he told her, seeing it in the window behind the
counter where the older lady stood.

“Axel?” Elsie called as he headed for the door.

“Yeah?”

“If I can do anything for her, you let me know, okay?” And the
kind older woman meant it.

“Will do,” he told her, curious now about what he was walking
into.

Axel returned to the tow truck, spotting the black Lincoln that was just
three spaces to the right of him with no cars parked in between. It looked
like someone was sitting in the driver’s seat. Walking up to the car,
Axel tapped on the driver’s window. The lady jumped in the seat,
startled. Axel saw a flash of red curls before she peered up at him through
the window.

Now Elsie’s words made sense. The young woman’s left eye was
black and almost swollen shut. Her nose was swollen and bruised, her lip
split. Someone had beat the fuck out of this little lady. Slowly, she opened
the door and got out of her car. Her careful movements told him her face
wasn’t the only thing that hurt her this morning. Axel stepped back to
give her room as she closed the door and leaned back against it.

The way she wrapped her arms protectively around herself and the fear in
her green-eyed gaze had him pausing. Now he knew why Elsie called their
garage. Tyler wasn’t a bad guy, but he was gruff and lacking in most
social niceties.

This young woman before him looked like she’d been through hell and
was expecting more.

“Hi there,” Axel said. “Elsie called me to come look at
your car. What’s going on?”

“It overheated I think,” she said quietly. “I was okay
for a couple of hours. But then it would heat up and it would start smoking.
I would stop and let it cool off. I stopped here to get gas and let it cool
off again. When I tried to restart it this time, it
wouldn’t.”

“Would you pop the hood for me?” Axel asked.

She scrambled back into the driver’s seat, searching for the lever to
do that. Just when he was about to offer to do it for her, she found
it.

Axel lifted the hood and removed the radiator cap. Walking back around to
where she sat behind the wheel with the driver-side door open, he said,
“Try starting it.”

It did start but looking into the radiator, he saw the coolant start to
bubble up like a milkshake. Walking back toward her, he saw white smoke
coming out of the tailpipe in the rear. Well, that wasn’t good
news.

“Turn it off,” he told her.

She did as he said, climbing back out of the car.

“Yeah, that’s a blown head gasket,” Axel explained.
“The smoke coming out of the back is coolant getting into your exhaust
system. It’s not supposed to do that.”

“Can you fix it?” she asked. “H-how long will it
take?”

“I can fix it,” he said. “How long it will take depends
on a couple of things. I need to find a replacement for the head gasket and
if there’s any damage to the engine, we might need parts for that too.
Once we have the parts we need, I can have it fixed in two or three
days.”

Axel could tell that wasn’t the answer she was hoping to get. It was
probably a good idea to get all the bad news out at once.

“It’s also going to be expensive,” Axel told her.
“You’re probably looking at two to three thousand dollars to fix
it.”

Those big green eyes were getting shiny with tears and Axel felt a tiny bit
of panic creeping in. He was no damn good with tears. Never had been. He had
to find some way to make the situation the little lady was in less
terrible.

“Where are you headed?” he asked. “Do you have any
friends or family we can call that will come help you out?”

Dropping her gaze, she shook her head.

“Where are you heading?” Axel tried again.

She shrugged for an answer.

“Do you know if your insurance covers towing?” he asked. If
nothing else, it looked like he was going to be towing her back to his
garage.

She shook her head. Pretty red curls swung with her movements.

“Do you have your insurance information in the car? We could
call,” he offered.

“I don’t have it,” she told him.

Didn’t have a destination. Didn’t have insurance information?
What the hell was the situation here? When he gave her the cost of towing
the car, she reached into the pocket of her coat, pulled out a credit card,
and handed it to him. It was brand-new and shiny. Axel doubted it had ever
been used.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m going to run this, and
we’ll be on our way.”

She scrambled back into her car like a scared mouse. Axel shook his head as
he headed back to his tow truck, reaching in to get the card reader they
used for payments. The name on the card was Sadie Downing.

What the hell happened to Sadie?

He ran the card. The transaction went through which surprised him. He
walked back to her car, tapping on the window to return her card. Again, she
scrambled out of her car, looking around nervously.

Axel just had to ask. “Are you okay? The local hospital is on the way
back to the garage.”

“I’m fine,” she said a little too quickly.

“Okay.” He would leave it at that. “Why don’t you
go ahead and climb in the tow truck? I’ll get your car hooked up and
we’ll get going.”

“Thank you,” she said quickly before making a beeline for the
truck, hastily climbing into the cab.

It didn’t take Axel long to hook up her car and get them on the road.
Sadie, if that was her name, huddled quietly in the far corner of the cabin
with her head leaning on the window. While he normally appreciated the
silence, just now it was awkward. He really wanted to ask her what happened.
Who did that to her face?

One thing was pretty certain. She was on the run, and she was afraid.
Looking at her, he understood why.

About the Author

Jamie Targaet is the author of the Hounds of Hell MC. She’s anxious to
introduce you to this club of gorgeous, dominant men and the lucky women who
surrender to them. The ride is going to get wild at times, not going to lie.
But there’s thrilling action, scorching hot sex scenes, and all the
feels.

Jamie writes erotic romance for Changeling Press, a little fanfiction on
the side, and she’s an aspiring horror writer in another life. She enjoys
time with her family (including the fur babies). She likes good horror
movies and shows, emo metal and classic rock, and time spent in other worlds
writing and reading. She loves hearing from readers and is looking forward
to hearing from you.

Contact Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Amazon

Author’s Website

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

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Tagged as Axel, Jamie Targaet, Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense