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Savior Teaser Tuesday

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 Savior cover

(Dixie Reapers MC)

 

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: July 22, 2022

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 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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