Tag Archives: Motorcycle Club Romance

DOC Teaser Tuesday

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(Salvations Bane MC)

 

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: April 14 2023

 

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Talia — Helping one of my students out of a bad situation shouldn’t
have been a life altering event. But the second Doc meets us in nothing but
jeans and motorcycle boots, I know I’ll never look at any other man
the same way. I knew Caroline’s father was sexy, but he’s a
well-established physician in the community as well as a member of
Salvation’s Bane MC. As the daughter of Grim Road MC’s
president, I know that’s a line I can’t cross. All I can do is
look from afar. Maybe it’s time to break some rules…

Doc — When my daughter Caroline shows up in a beat-up Ford, I’m
prepared to have me a little chat with some boy who needs a lesson. Instead,
an angel emerges from the driver’s side, and I’m a goner. Of
course, life is never that easy. The girl is the daughter of an MC in the
area that flies under the radar. Grim Road MC is even more secretive than
Salvation’s Bane. Whatever they do must be dangerous, because the next
thing I know, her Dad is telling me to make her my ol’ lady. And my
wife. Good thing I’ve already decided to do both.

 

WARNING: Graphic violence, adult situations, and references to human
trafficking and domestic abuse that may be triggers for some readers. Happy
ending and no cheating, as always.

 

DOC tablet

EXCERPT

 

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2023 Marteeka Karland

 

Fifteen minutes later, Chucky still hadn’t answered her text, and
Linnie hadn’t answered mine. Not surprising, since Trix took every
phone I gave her and pawned them. Linnie had a burner phone for emergencies,
but if she wasn’t in trouble, she might not even have it on.

“I swear to God, Trix, if something has happened to
Linnie…”

“She’s fine, Jude,” Trix snapped at me. But her brows
were knitted together, and she was calling Chucky over and over. Apparently
it was going straight to voicemail.

“Dad!” Linnie called out to me from the parking lot. I
hadn’t noticed her right away because the car she got out of
wasn’t the car she was supposed to be getting out of. Instead of the
sleek red Mercedes I knew Chucky usually drove, she got out of a light blue
Taurus. Car had to be at least fifteen years old. Judging by the slight
trail of smoke coming from under the hood, the poor thing had had it.

Relief flooded me, but I did my best not to let it show. Instead, I lifted
my hand and waved to my daughter, plastering a big welcoming smile on my
face. “Hey, sweet Caroline!” There you go, Trix. She wanted me
to use Linnie’s given name? I hoped she never got the song out of her
head.

Linnie ran around the front of the car to the driver’s side. She
appeared to be begging the person driving to get out of the car. I was
prepared for some sixteen- or seventeen-year-old punk wanting to date my
daughter. It was bound to happen sooner or later, though I’d hoped
she’d be at least forty when it did. What I wasn’t prepared for
was the slender beauty who stood and allowed Linnie to snag her hand and
lead her toward me. Wasn’t expecting this. If this was Linnie’s
girlfriend, I was so fucking fucked, because I was sure it was bad form for
a man to lust after his daughter’s girlfriend.

The woman was young. Probably barely out of her teens, if that. She had
long, jet-black hair that hung down her back in tight spirals, shimmering
with bluish-silver highlights in the sun. The breeze blowing off the sea
made all that shining silk blow to one side and whip around her body with
every sudden gust. Her skin was pale, a sharp contrast to the gleaming ebony
hair. She wore pink shorts with large yellow flowers on them and a
short-sleeved white T-shirt. The same flower in pink was inlaid with a
smaller, identical flower in yellow. Definitely one of Linnie’s
friends, romantic or otherwise. Which meant I needed to look the fuck away.
Because, no matter how young she looked or dressed, something in me noticed
the woman beneath. Even if she was trying to hide that woman.

“Dad! Dad!” Linnie waved as she tried to run with her friend in
our direction. The woman with her, however, refused to follow Linnie’s
lead willingly. She looked reluctant as hell to come near us. Every now and
then, her gaze fell on me, and she’d immediately look away. Kept
coming back to me, though. Like she couldn’t decide whether or not to
be afraid of me. “I want you to meet my teacher.”

That got my attention. This lovely young woman was most certainly not Janet
Wankum. Which made me wonder exactly how old this girl was. If she were
Linnie’s teacher wouldn’t she be at least eighteen? No. Not
necessarily. This was a private music class. This could be another student
further along than Linnie helping out Ms. Wankum. I couldn’t help but
let my gaze sweep over the girl again in a more thorough perusal. Thank God
for sunglasses. Surprisingly, I recognized her. Should have by the hair, but
she always kept it in a bun at the base of her skull. Though I hadn’t
known she was a teacher, I knew she was a stellar musician. I remembered
seeing her play various instruments from the piano to the guitar and violin.
Thought she played the flute too, but I wasn’t sure. What I
hadn’t realized at the time was how stunningly lovely she really
was.

Yep. She was luscious, her eyes a gleaming silver that seemed to look into
a man’s soul. Her body was slender yet filled out to perfection. Her
breasts were small, but with her compact body and finely muscled thighs, she
gave the appearance of someone athletic. Maybe that of a delicate ballerina.
Not a musician.

“This is Talia. Her dad’s in an MC too.”

I’d seen her with the younger kids, helping them with all the
patience of a woman twice her age. I’d caught her staring at me more
than once, but she never approached me or gave me the indication she was
anything other than afraid of me. I also thought I knew her father. Which
probably explained her trepidation. If she lived in a biker compound,
she’d be wary of another MC member.

“Rocket? From Grim Road?”

Her lips parted in surprise, and her pale gaze met mine briefly before she
lowered her eyes submissively. Goddamn if my cock didn’t give a
jerk.

“Yes,” she said with a quick nod. “Rocket is my dad. You
know him?”

“I do. Good man. Leads his club well.”

“Of course, you know

that outlaw,” Trix spat. “He’s a thug, and that girl is
as bad as he is. She’s trying to steal Janet’s students.”
Trix lunged for Linnie, trying to pull her away from Talia. My daughter gave
her mother an impatient look and shrugged her off.

“Mom, Ms. Janet asked Talia to help. She has more students than she
can handle but doesn’t want to drop anyone. Since Talia is the most
advanced of any of us, she helps. Ms. Janet has us two days a month and so
does Talia.”

“I’m not paying for this little… tramp to sit back and
play on her phone while you have another practice session.” Trix
nearly spat the word “tramp.” “You can practice at home,
Caroline. From now on, you’ll let me know what days you’re
supposed to be with Janet, and those are the days you’ll
go.”

Caroline looked like her mother had slapped her. “Mom! I can’t
believe you said that! Besides, I know Dad’s the one paying for my
lessons, because he gives me money for them every week I’m with
him.” She stepped away from Beatrix and snagged Talia’s hand
again. The older girl tried to twist free, but Linnie was having none of it.
“Talia is a wonderful teacher. Even Ms. Janet says so.” Linnie
looked at me with pleading eyes. “Daddy, Talia’s not like Mom
says.”

“It’s all right, Caroline.” Talia spoke softly, patting
Linnie on the shoulder and gently tugging her hand away. “Not everyone
understands my dad or our way of life. I’m used to it.”

The girl turned to go, but Caroline was persistent. “Please
don’t go yet, Talia. You promised to eat dinner with us.
Remember?”

“I said I’d think about it.” She glanced at her watch. It
wasn’t a fancy watch like the kind that connects to your phone, but
one that looked vintage grandma. Tiny face. Elastic metal band.
“I’m sorry, but I really need to go.” To say Talia looked
supremely uncomfortable was an understatement. She wouldn’t look at
Beatrix at all and only cast furtive glances my way. Mostly she had her head
down.

“Daddy?” Linnie gave me a pleading look, like she thought I had
the power to keep her friend with us. When my little girl gave me that look,
there was no denying her. Good idea or not.

“It’s all right, Talia. Trix was just leaving. You’re
more than welcome to join Linnie and me for supper.”

God help me, the girl’s head snapped up, and she looked at me with
wide, startled eyes before glancing at Trix again and lowering her gaze.
“I’m sorry. But I really can’t. I was supposed to go
straight home. I’ll be in trouble as it is.”

“I’ll make things right with your dad, but tell me why you
disobeyed him? Did Linnie ask you to bring her here?” I wanted Trix to
hear this. Whatever it was. Because, again, I already knew the answer. It
didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

“No. She didn’t ask. And don’t worry about my dad.
I’ll be in trouble, but I know the rules. I’ll tell him what
happened and let him be the judge of if I was right or wrong.”

“Lia…” I deliberately shortened her name, making it
intimate so she’d look up at me again. It worked, though I thought I
might fall to my knees the second her gaze locked with mine. The girl was
stunningly lovely and so Goddamned innocent I knew I was going to hell for
all the dirty thoughts I’d have about her tonight. “Who asked
you to bring Linnie to me at the beach?”

“Mr. Rothschild, sir.”

Fuuuuuuck.

 

 

 

About the Author

Erotic romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka
Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and
totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination
since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout
her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and
irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of.

 

Contact Links

Twitter: @marteekakarland

Facebook: @experiencethemagicmk

 

Publisher on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram: @changelingpress

 

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Stripes Teaser Tuesday

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Devil’s Boneyard MC, Book 12

Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Action & Adventure

Date Published: 11/18/2022

 

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Melina — Men have never given me a reason to trust them. The Bratva taught
me men are brutal. Selfish. And take what they want. Death would be better
than tying myself to one ever again. Then a Russian biker swoops in to save
me. As much as I want to believe everything he says, how can I? I’ve
only known pain at the hands of men. I want him to be different… but
any hope I had died long ago.

Stripes — She thinks she’s broken. I see a survivor. A strong woman
who’s still standing despite what’s been done to her. It will
take time, but I’ll help her heal. Prove not all men are evil.
I’ll give her a reason to keep living. Never again will someone cause
her pain. If they do, they’ll answer to me. My hands are already
stained with blood. What’s a little more?

WARNING: Recommended for readers 18+ due to language, violence, and adult
situations. Stripes is part of the Devil’s Boneyard MC series and
contains darker content some readers may find objectionable. Stripes can be
read as a stand-alone story, even though it’s part of a series

Stripes standing book

 EXCERPT

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2022 Harley Wylde

“What intel did Wire send us?” I asked.

Gator shrugged, which meant he’d been as pissed as I was and
hadn’t paid close attention. We’d parked about a block away and
observed the place from a distance. I leaned against a building, smoking a
cigarette, in the hopes people wouldn’t be suspicious. So far,
we’d seen a few customers go in and come out not too long afterward. I
highly doubted they were getting their money’s worth.

“I wish Specter would show the fuck up,” I grumbled.

“We’ll be lucky if he does.” Gator scanned the area.
“Can I ask you something?”

“If I say no, will it stop you?”

He snorted and shook his head. As I figured. I motioned for him to go
ahead.

“Why did you agree to this? Breaking the woman out of there, I
understand. But letting them marry the two of you? Why the fuck would you
take a whore as your wife?”

I fought for control, knowing he was genuinely curious and didn’t
mean it the way it sounded. Otherwise, I’d have already put my fist
through his face. I took my time, trying to figure out how I could word
it.

“The woman in there didn’t agree to become a whore. They beat
her. Raped her. Forced her into that way of life. If we don’t get her
out, she’ll only suffer more. Grimm and the Dixie Reapers are
concerned the Bratva will try to take her back. Marriage is the only way to
protect her.”

Gator stared a moment before giving a slight nod. “Fine. As long as
they didn’t coerce you into this shit. I know how big your heart is,
Stripes, even if others don’t always realize it.”

I grinned and put out my cigarette. “Let’s get this out of the
way. If Specter shows, great. If not, we’ll handle it.”

Breaking into a brothel wasn’t exactly difficult. I’d expected
security, but I hadn’t seen a single man watching over the place. If
they’d had electronic surveillance, I knew one of the hackers would
have disabled it by now. We walked through the front doors and a woman, most
likely the madam, smiled at us broadly.

“Gentlemen, what’s your pleasure today? We can cater to any and
all of your needs.”

I curled my fingers into a fist, fighting to maintain control. I wanted to
rip this place to pieces with my bare hands. Instead, I took in my
surroundings. At a quick glance, I saw the frightened women nearby. A few of
them looked completely destroyed. They no longer cared what happened to
them, and the woman in front of me was the deadest of them all. Despite her
smile, her eyes were vacant. She was little more than a puppet. I doubted
she had any real control. The Bratva owned her, same as the other women
here. Her greeting us only meant she’d been here the longest.
They’d broken her long ago and had no reason to doubt she’d do
exactly as they commanded.

I didn’t think any of these women came here voluntarily. Someone had
possibly trafficked them. At the very least, they were being disciplined
like Melina. I didn’t want them to get hurt, which meant I needed to
be careful. And yet, I’d have to get my point across. The thought of
scaring them soured my stomach. But fear and pain would be the only way to
get their attention. At first, anyway.

“Do you want easy way or hard way?” I folded my arms. I
didn’t need them to know I was a pushover when it came to a damsel in
distress. With my accent, they might even think I had Bratva ties. And I
knew it was thicker than usual right now. Even I could hear the difference.
“I want Melina Romanov.”

 

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Deadeye Teaser Tuesday

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Bones MC, Book 13

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Action & Adventure

Date Published: 11/04/2022

 

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 Chloe — Manipulative on the best of days, my mother hooked up with
the president of a powerful MC. When he retired, she decided to give me to a
man I’ve never met. Guess she thought she’d  still be able
to keep her status if I became the ol’lady of the new president. I
have no idea what the men in the club are like and I’m not judging,
but they wear the 1% patch and I know enough about MCs to know that
can’t be good for a girl like me.

 

Deadeye – I’m a patient man. Pride myself on that. So when I
find a girl camping out under a rock watching the club, I camp out to watch
her. The more I watch, the more I like what I see. Before I can make her
mine, though, I need to find out why she’s here. No one’s more
surprised than me when she tells me who her daddy is. Except maybe her
daddy. Now I’m pitted against one of my own brothers. But the more I
get to know the spunky little minx, the more I want her. And the more I
realize I may have to kill my own MC brother and tear apart a rival MC
looking for the woman meant to be their new president’s
ol’lady.

Deadeye tablet

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2022 Marteeka Karland

 

Chloe

I was tired. So fucking tired. I’d only been on the run for five
days, but it was five days of backwoods hell. Finding the place I needed to
get to had been hard enough. Actually getting there without anyone seeing me
had been a feat like I’d never undertaken before. Still don’t
know how I managed it without getting hopelessly lost. But here I was.

The name of the club was Bones MC, Somerset, Kentucky. I’d walked all
the way from Jeffersonville, Indiana to find this place. Compared to the
club I’d come from this one was relatively small. But from what
I’d learned, they were very close-knit and incredibly dangerous.

I was currently hiding under a rock overhang just tall enough for me to lie
flat on my belly and watch the place. I’d covered myself with leaves
and sticks, camouflaging my hiding spot as best I could. So far, no one had
spotted me. If they had, they hadn’t busted me yet. I should have just
gone into the clubhouse, but I wanted to scout the place out first. If there
seemed to be too much shady shit going down, I’d just move on without
wasting my time. Or putting myself in a worse position than I’d been
in when I ran.

So far, there had been parties that got pretty loud and wild, similar to
what I’d seen at Iron Tzars MC. The guys at Bones partied hard, but
they worked hard, too. Beyond the large clubhouse was a neighborhood. There
were what looked like high-end, double-wide mobile homes, but also a
smattering of houses, with more going up. The two days I’d been hiding
out, I’d seen several of the club members working throughout the day.
If there were drug deals or arms sales going down, it wasn’t anywhere
near their compound. There were women all over the place, but none of them
seemed to be there against their will.

The weather was turning. Autumn rain was coming, if the sky was any
indication. It was cold and damp, and I had no desire to spend another night
under a rock. If I’d judged this place wrong, I was in trouble. Of
course, if I didn’t get some decent shelter soon, I’d still be
in trouble. I’d heard good things about this club in the community.
They might not be law-abiding citizens, but they weren’t so bad they
were feared by the whole city. I was counting on the reputation they’d
apparently worked hard to build. If Bones turned out to be a wolf in
sheep’s clothing, I was fucked, because I had nowhere else to go. And
the one man I needed to see here, the one man who could help me in a way I
could live with, had no idea I even existed.

Knowing there was nothing else I could find out without getting inside the
place, I decided to quit being a pussy and stop stalling. I stood, looking
down at my clothes. Having been outside under a rock for the better part of
two days, I was filthy. Probably stank too. There was a creek just below my
hiding place on the other side of the hill between me and the compound. I
could wash there and change my clothes before trying to get inside. If I was
lucky, they’d stop me at the gate and take me straight to the man I
needed to see. I could only hope he remembered my mother. If not, I was
probably screwed.

The wind had started to pick up, and there was a cold bite to it. I knew I
needed to hurry, but not bathing and changing clothes simply wasn’t an
option. If I came to their doorstep looking like a hobo, I was afraid no one
would take me seriously. Or, worse, tell me to get the fuck on before they
got rid of me.

I stripped, tossing my filthy, damp clothing to the ground. I kept the
long-sleeved T-shirt to use as a washcloth, so I didn’t have to
actually get in the creek. While it was still warm most days, the nights in
this part of Kentucky were chilly this time of year. Shallow water, like the
lazy stream here, had started to cool, making this bath seriously
uncomfortable.

I’d never done this before. Bathed out in the open. In fact, though
I’d lived in an MC for most of my life, roughing it wasn’t
exactly in my repertoire. I’d never been camping. Or hunting.
I’d been fishing occasionally but usually on a boat or a dock at the
lake. All I’d had to eat the last five days were some snacks I’d
managed to sneak out and a couple bottles of water I refilled every chance I
got. Now, I was cold, dirty, hungry, and so fucking tired I just wanted to
sleep for a fucking week.

“Well, now. What do we have here?” The lazy drawl made me jump
and cry out. I tripped and landed on my ass, my naked body on full display.
The guy smirked as he looked down at me, his big arms crossed over a
powerful-looking chest. His shoulders were wide, stretching the fabric of
his Henley, as did his biceps. He had a full beard reaching about halfway
down his chest. Cold, assessing blue eyes were fixed squarely on me.

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Styx Teaser Tuesday

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Salvation’s Bane MC

Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense

To Be Released: August 5 2022

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

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Jolene: I’ve lived my entire life in the shadow of a feud that ended
over a hundred years ago. But try telling that to my family. To them, the
Hatfields and McCoys were never met to mix. Or be in the same town really.
So when I gave my virginity to a Hatfield, my McCoy family disowned me
entirely. And that Hatfield I trusted? He set me up to be raped by his kin.
So yeah, my life’s a shit show. Then another Hatfield picked me up out
of a ditch and saved me. I thought he’d hurt me, too, but he turned
out to be the kindest man I’ve ever met. Now I need to shake him long
enough to get the revenge I need from those who hurt me. I just hope when
I’m done, he’ll take me back.

Styx: I just came for the car — a rare Mercedes Maybach the club intends
to sell for a good chunk of change. I long ago left any family I had in this
little hick town in West Virginia and only came back because I knew the
area, and the man who had the car was my family’s rival, Marshall
McCoy. So when I found his daughter in a ditch on the side of the road,
beaten and bloody, my first instinct — and that of my MC brothers –
was set up. But I can’t leave her to the mercy of her family. I know
there will be hell to pay. I just didn’t count on my sweet little
hillbilly being hellbent on revenge. As I fall deeper and deeper under her
spell, I find I can’t deny her anything. Even if what she wants might
break her.

Warning: Styx includes scenes of sexual abuse and vigilante justice that
may be triggers for some readers. Guaranteed HEA.

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2022 Marteeka Karland

Styx

How could one place be so God-awful redneck? Always had been. Every fucking
neighborhood in town had at least one car up on concrete blocks and numerous
pink flamingos in the front fucking yard. Nothing had fucking changed since
I was a teenager.

Red had a tip on a Mercedes Maybach that was supposedly being held in
storage until the right buyer came along. In this fucking hick town. I had
my doubts, but Red said it had been confirmed by our intel guy, Ripper. If
Ripper said that’s the way it was? Well. I’d gotten on a plane
to fucking West Virginia, hadn’t I?

My job was to scout. Using the little gizmos Red’s woman, Rosanna,
had developed, I had no doubt I could steal the car. The problem was getting
it out of storage and into the enclosed trailer. Again, Ripper was on the
issue.

Poison and Lock pulled up to the designated area about half a mile from
where the car was being stored. They’d driven a nondescript Ford with
a beat-up-looking trailer, and another, smaller car to act as lookout for
the payload on the way home. Smokey and the Bandit style. The car was rough
looking, but souped up under the hood. Hopefully, the extra horsepower
wouldn’t be needed, but better to have it and not need it than to need
it and not have it. Neither looked new, nor did they appear in disrepair.
The vehicles were designed to blend in. To not stand out anywhere they
went.

The plan was to load the car and get out of this place as quickly as
possible. Use the app to give the thing a new VIN number and program our own
FOB. Lose ourselves on the interstate, then the lesser traveled highways off
the interstates on a roundabout route back to Salvation’s Bane and
Red’s underground garage. Once that was done, we’d ditch the
truck and trailer and begin the rest of the cleaning process on the car.
Which was the easy part.

I studied the area around the storage building from the remote screen
provided by a drone. It wasn’t more than a barn on the outside, but
the reality was, inside the barn was a climate controlled warehouse with
state-of-the-art security. I knew the place well because it was owned by
Marshal McCoy. I’d been poking my nose in the business of the McCoys
since I was a kid.

McCoy was well off, having a legitimate business of some sort in the
community. But his real money came from smuggling. This barn and a couple
others like it were the reason for that success. From the outside, it looked
like a big tobacco barn. Inside, the place was locked down tighter than a
snare drum. Which was the beauty of it, I supposed.

Security outside the building was just as tedious. There were cameras all
over the place. And traps. Thankfully, McCoy believed in electronics.
Heavily. Always had. All the scouting we’d done had turned up a few
rudimentary things, but nearly every single safeguard relied on electricity
and electronics. Ripper had scoffed and told us it was too good to be true,
that we needed to really recon the hell outta the place. We’d found a
few pits and spikes and other simple shit that looked like it hadn’t
been well maintained. We’d left that part until the evening we’d
planned to do the job. Just in case someone did a manual security
sweep.

Our planning was meticulous. Starting two months before we were ready to
make our move, Ripper had messed with security at the same time he kept
anyone interested in the car off the scent. If McCoy was going to upgrade
things or do an extensive check, we’d know it well in advance. Ripper
had the guy’s entire place bugged. House, office and every car they
owned. McCoy thought he was the smartest man in the room, but the fact was,
he was on the verge of losing everything to a rival. Montgomery
Hatfield.

Made me snicker to think about it. Generations of Hatfields and McCoys.
They’d officially ended the feud in the eighteen nineties,
symbolically in the early two thousands. But here in Appalachia, it was
alive and going strong. Just… more civilized. At least on the
surface.

Which was why we were here. Montgomery Hatfield was a half brother to my
father, the bastard. While I didn’t associate with that side of the
family — other than my half brother in Black Reign, Shotgun — I did enjoy
taking them down a peg or two. If I could take down Marshall McCoy while I
was doing it? So much the better. Call it a character flaw.

“How’s it going, Ripper?” I’d been touching base
with the tech guy regularly. If there was a problem, we needed to identify
it before we backed the trailer in.

“All’s quiet. Same as always. They raised a fuss the first few
times I blacked them out, but once they got used to their network coming
back up, they quit worrying about it. Made a couple calls to the company,
who charged them a bunch of money to go to each site and check on things.
After that, they sent one of old man McCoy’s boys out, and he’s
not the most thorough tool in the box. Last three times it’s gone out,
no one bothered to check.”

“Good. Where is everyone now.”

“Far enough away you’ll have at least an hour before anyone
could possibly show up.” The man snorted. “Bit of a ruckus
goin’ on with one of his girls. Not sure what, but it’s keeping
everybody busy.”

“So, we ready?” I was anxious to get moving. While I had
confidence in the operation, something else was bothering me.

“Get into position. Once you’re ten minutes out, I’ll
throw the switch.” Ripper had everything bugged at Salvation’s
Bane, including all our vehicles. He said it let him know when one of us was
in trouble. I figured he was just a control freak.

“Guess we’re good to go then.” I signaled to Poison and
Lock. “Move it out.” My two MC brothers were in the truck
pulling the trailer while I was in a separate truck we’d had waiting
when we started scouting two months ago. Last thing we wanted was for the
two vehicles to be seen together before the heist.

It was just past four in the morning. The darkest part of the night. The
moon was covered by clouds. The night was still. Even the nocturnal
creatures were settling down for the day to come.

There were two routes into the place where we were going. Poison and Lock
had taken a different route than me. Mine took me past the McCoy family
home. Remembering that place from my early childhood made me want to fire my
gun at the windows as I passed. I hated that fucking place. Old man McCoy
was a fucking bastard. Always was. Being a Hatfield, I’d never
actually been in the house, but I knew some of his kids. The boys were all
bullies. Some of the girls, too. His wife had died a few years back,
I’d heard. And now he was starting a whole new brood of kids to mold
in his image. That massive house represented everything in Williamson I
hated.

I’d gotten about six miles away from the house when something caught
my attention. A small form huddled on the side of the road. I almost missed
it. Looked like a boy or a small woman wearing a backpack. The figure was in
an orange jumpsuit, which was the only reason I’d seen it.

I started to just go on. We didn’t have a lot of time here. But,
Goddammit, I couldn’t just pass this person by.

“Guys, I’ve got a problem. Keep to schedule. If you don’t
hear from me in five minutes, abort.”

“What’s going on?” That was Ripper’s voice. Of
course he was monitoring.

“Not sure. Switching on my body cam so you can see what I’m
seeing. Get an ID on the guy.”

“Guy? What guy?”

“There’s someone on the side of the road. Could be someone in
trouble,” I said.

“Could be a fuckin’ trap. What the fuck, Styx?” Ripper
didn’t get upset too often, but when he did, he tended to go
nuclear.

“Just keep an eye out. Give me five minutes. I’ll either leave
him or load him in the truck.”

“Fuck!”

“Don’t give yourself a nosebleed, Ripper. If it’s a trap,
I’ll fucking kill the bastard.”

“Take an earwig. I want to stay in communication every fuckin’
second, Styx.”

“Roger that,” I said, putting the truck in park and stepping
out. Though the truck’s headlights shone brightly, I snagged a
flashlight along with the gun at my hip. If this was an ambush, I
wasn’t getting caught with my fucking pants down.

The figure held up a trembling hand, blocking the light of the vehicle from
her face. And I could tell by the small, delicate hand it was a female. I
shined my light around the area but didn’t see anything. Just to be
safe, I turned my body, letting Ripper get a good look around in case I
missed something. With his computer enhancement shit, he’d see danger
long before I did.

“Don’t see nothin’,” Ripper murmured. I could hear
him typing and flipping switches. “Can’t say a hundred percent,
but I think you’re alone.”

I eased toward the figure huddling in the ditch. “Hey, there,”
I called. “You good?” No response. “Girl?” Still
nothing. The hand blocking her face from the light still fluttered
violently. That’s when I noticed the blood on her fingers and
streaking her hand. “You OK?” The hand dropped, and there was a
slight whimper as she lay still once more.

“Ripper?” I had a sinking feeling this girl was in a world of
trouble. There was no way I could leave her. At this point, I was praying
for an ambush, because I absolutely could not afford to be held up by
someone in real distress. And I was certain that, if this woman was as hurt
as I thought she was, she’d need medical attention.

“You’ve got four minutes. Get her in the truck.”

 

 

About the Author

Erotic romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka
Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and
totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination
since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout
her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and
irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of.

Author Contact Links

Instagram & Twitter: @marteekakarland

Publisher’s Instagram/Facebook/Twitter: @changelingpress

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Savior Teaser Tuesday

 Savior banner

 

 Savior cover

(Dixie Reapers MC)

 

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: July 22, 2022

photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

 Dessa — I’ve always known Sonja, my foster sister, thrives on
chaos. It never occurred to me she’d go so far as to buy children,
then use them as leverage against a club of bikers. When armed men burst
through the door, I’m terrified — not only of them, but of losing
little Junie and Judd. Those kids mean everything to me, but they’re
not really mine. I know I can’t keep them. And when the bikers walk
out with the children, I don’t even try to stop them. Without Sonja
and the kids, I’m alone. The darkness I’ve held at bay starts to
close in on me, and I have to wonder… how much longer before I join
my family on the other side?

Savior — I only wanted my daughter. When I find her, I didn’t count
on a sweet angel keeping watch. I should walk away. But Dessa loves my
little girl as if she were her own. I feel like a monster taking Junie away
from her. There’s a sadness in her eyes. It tugs at me, makes me want
to protect her. So I give in to my instincts, and I take Dessa with me. I
didn’t count on falling under her spell. She’s wrapped me around
her finger, and I’m not sure I really mind.

WARNING: Savior is part of the Dixie Reapers MC series and contains graphic
language, adult situations, and violence. It’s intended for adult
readers age 18+.

 

 

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2022 Harley Wylde

 

 

Dessa

I didn’t know where my sister had found the children, but little
Junie and Judd were the sweetest kids. They weren’t hers. No matter
what she implied, I knew she’d never been pregnant. Not to mention,
she didn’t have a maternal bone in her body. Of course, I’d seen
plenty of parents who didn’t have what it took to take care of
children. Which was why I’d ended up in foster care, along with
Sonja.

It bothered me, not knowing where the children came from. Did they have
parents searching for them? Had Sonja stolen them to try and give them a
better life? I had too many questions, and she never offered any answers.
Not that I’d seen her lately. She usually stopped by every other week
with some cash and would buy groceries. Until the day she’d walked out
and not returned. Had she grown bored with the kids? It wouldn’t have
surprised me.

I rolled my chair forward and scooped Junie onto my lap. She giggled and
clapped her hands, always enjoying a ride. To her, it was a game. For
me… Well, it was a reminder of the life I’d never get to have.
Jeremy had made it clear no one would want a woman like me for a wife. The
accident hadn’t been my fault. He’d walked away, and I
hadn’t. Thanks to the drunk driver, and nerve damage, I’d never
walk again.

I could have wallowed in self-pity, or let depression drag me down. It had
been close for a while. Once Jeremy dumped me, I’d spiraled. I’d
barely been existing when Sonja found me. She’d asked for my help,
even though she hadn’t explained what she needed. I’d agreed, as
long as it wasn’t illegal. She’d smirked and said I’d be
fine. Then she’d vanished again, only to show up about five months ago
with two kids in tow.

The first two months after the accident had been rough. Adjusting to life
in a wheelchair hadn’t been easy. Hell, most days I still struggled. I
wondered if I always would.

“How’s my sweet girl today?” I asked, kissing her
cheek.

I glanced at the kitchen and knew I’d have to order supplies soon.
The money Sonja had left was long gone. She should have returned months ago.
Part of me worried she’d forgotten about us. Or worse, she’d
gotten into trouble. Being unable to drive made life a little difficult at
times. Even if I’d had a car, I wasn’t sure how I’d
manage. I hadn’t had insurance when the accident happened. If the
drunk driver hadn’t covered my medical expenses, I’d have never
gotten my wheelchair. The damn things cost entirely too much.

Thankfully, there were apps for nearly everything these days. I could have
groceries delivered, as long as I had money. Maybe someday I could afford a
car and figure out how to drive without the use of my legs. It just
wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

Chasing the little ones didn’t give me much time for work, and my job
barely covered our expenses. If Sonja didn’t return soon, we’d
be in trouble. I had enough for some groceries, as long as I bought cheap
things like macaroni or spaghetti. I knew the kids needed healthier options,
but it was better to feed them than to make them starve.

Judd held his arms up, and I lifted him onto my lap as well. They both
curled against me, and I knew they were ready for a nap. Wheeling us into
the living room, I picked up their favorite book off the coffee table.
We’d read Goodnight Moon so many times, I had it memorized. And yet,
the kids wanted to listen to it every day. Sometimes more than once.

We were on page four when someone pounded on the door. I clutched the
children to me and stared, too scared to open it. It rattled on the hinges,
and I knew it had to be a man on the other side. I’d never met a woman
with that much force behind their fist. Didn’t mean there
weren’t any. I’d just never known any.

“Who’s there?” I called out.

“You have to the count of three to open this damn door or I’m
breaking it down,” a deep voice said from the other side.

My heart leaped into my throat, and I started backing my chair toward the
hall. I knew if they really wanted in, there wasn’t any way I could
stop them. The way he beat on the door made me fear not only for my life,
but the lives of the children. When he made it into the house, we’d be
helpless.

I whispered to the kids, hoping they’d listen. “I need you both
to go hide. Don’t come out unless I call you. Understand?”

Junie blinked at me and didn’t say anything. Judd stared and refused
to move. I whimpered, not wanting anything bad to happen to them. Stuck in
my chair, I knew I wouldn’t be able to fight off whoever was trying to
break in.

“Lady, you let me in or I swear to Christ it won’t be pretty
when I get my hands on you.”

I backed up even more. The door nearly exploded off the hinges as a group
of large men came barreling into the house. I screamed, and the children
started crying. I held them tight, hoping to soothe them, but I was just as
terrified. What did these men want?

“Please, we don’t have anything valuable. Take whatever you
want. Just don’t hurt us,” I begged. More men came into the
house, and the breath in my lungs froze when I recognized one of them.
“Johnny?”

He blinked, and his eyebrows lifted. “Dessa?”

“What’s going on?” Some of my tension eased. It had been
a long time since I’d last seen him, but unless he’d drastically
changed, I knew he wouldn’t hurt us. Hopefully, that meant the other
men wouldn’t either.

“I go by Saint now,” he said, coming farther into the house.
“I think the better question is why are you here and with those two
kids?”

 

 

About the Author

Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers
MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.

When Harley’s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off-the-charts
sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who
talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to
the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the
world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives
her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what
they deserve.

The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to
her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves
to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV
shows and movies from the 1980s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990s
to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing. You can find
out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure
to join her newsletter while you’re there to learn more about discounts,
signing events, and other goodies!

Contact Links

Facebook/Instagram/TikTok: @harleywylde

Twitter: @HarleyW_Writer

 

Publisher’s Instagram/Facebook/Twitter: @changelingpress

 

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