Tag Archives: Suspense

March Teaser Tuesday

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March cover

(Underland MC)

Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense

Date Published: September 13, 2024

 

 

Sometimes the most forbidden love can be the most
irresistible…

 

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

March tablet

EXCERPT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Until the end,” they replied in unison.

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

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

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

“Vick,” Rabbit said, lifting his beer.

“Jarret,” Tweedle said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

About the Author

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

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

 

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde

 

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

 

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Katherine Teaser

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Katherine teaser

Maw of Mayhem MC 4

A Maw of Mayhem Shifter MC Romance

 

Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense

Date Published: August 30, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

 

Voted in as prez and back at the clubhouse, Grimdarke James has won back
the Maw of Mayhem MC, but his problems are far from over, and his migraine
isn’t helping. Neither is the arrival of a rival MC, a wolf pack, or
the crime lord en route.

And Reaper’s still on the loose.

Grim definitely can’t seem to catch a break, and neither can Kit. Now
that she’s been officially introduced to the club as Grim’s
ol’ lady, it’s up to her to get a handle on the mollys. Will she
be able to keep them in line and prove she’s the rightful queen of
Mayhem, or will someone else try to usurp her throne?

 

Excerpt

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2024 AK Nevermore

 

Grim’s phone wouldn’t stop ringing.

He slapped it silent and groaned, pulling a pillow over his throbbing head.
Jesus fuck, how was it light out already? Whatever, he didn’t give a
shit. Whoever was calling him could fuck off. At his side, Kit murmured,
nestling closer. Her bent leg skated up the back of his thigh and hooked
over his hip.

Mmm. He rolled to face her, and she snuggled against his chest with a sigh
of contentment. Damn, she smelled good. He inhaled, drawing her scent into
his lungs. Something about it eased his head. Woman just made him feel
better all around. His fingers idled through her hair, down her back to cup
her juicy ass, morning wood going rigid as it brushed against her slick
core.

“You dreamin’ about me, baby?” he murmured, still groggy,
running the length of his cock along her slit and notching himself at her
entrance.

“Maybe.” Her hands skimmed up his chest to lace around his
neck. She tipped her hips, and Grim nudged into her, groaning as he sank
home. Fuck, she was tight. Kit gave a soft cry, her nails rasping over his
shoulders. “Maybe not.”

His eyes flew open; a spike of jealousy shooting through him. He pinned her
beneath him, growling, a hand rising to stroke her throat. “That
right? You wanna clue me in to who the fuck you’re thinkin’
about while I’m dick deep inside your pussy?”

She shrugged, not intimidated in the least and so sinfully fucking
sexy…

— brat — Darke muttered.

She is. Grim bared his teeth in anticipation. “You want that ass
spanked, Kitten?” He twined his fingers with hers, raising her arms up
over her head, slowly pistoning his hips between her spread thighs.
“‘Cause sass like that? You’re just asking to be
punished.”

“Am I?” Her lips parted at the snap of his hips, lust darkening
her gaze. The scent of her heat thickened the air. Christ, the mating
pheromones she was putting off were so ripe he could taste citrus and
cinnamon.

“You are.” He growled again, some deep, primal need waking. The
urge to sate it, to fill her with his seed and make her his, thrummed
through his being. He teased her lips, nipping at them. “You gonna be
this sassy when my baby’s in your belly?”

She bit back a smile. “Probably?”

Grim chuckled. Goddamn, he fucking loved —

A series of texts pinged on his phone. He shot a glare in its direction.
Deuce? The fuck did he want? Kit’s mouth traced Grim’s jugular,
nipping and diverting his attention. Mmm. His lips claimed hers, her scent
Manna on his tongue, sheathing himself in the hot velvet of her cunt over
and over again.

She panted, arching up, and he latched onto her breast, sucking its pebbled
tip into his mouth. Christ, she was fucking perfect. He drove his cock into
her wet heat, bottoming out and dragging back against that spot deep inside
her. “Oh God, Grim! Please, I can’t…” She gasped,
cried out. Her eyelids fluttered, core convulsing, demanding…

He thrust into her again, tingle zinging the length of his spine, balls
drawing up, cock impossibly hard, spurting, emptying himself to fill her. He
buried his face in the crook of her neck, groaning, pressing deep.
“Goddamn, that’s it. Fucking take it –”

BAM BAM BAM

He lifted his head. The hell?

BAM BAM. “Grim!”

Deuce was at the door. Shit, didn’t he just try to call?

“Sec!” Grim yelled over his shoulder, then turned back to look
down at Kit. She watched him with hooded eyes, her lips bee-stung and a
sheen of sweat glossing her skin. Goddamn, she was fucking beautiful. He
trailed his knuckles down her throat, just wanting to —

BAM BAM BAM. “Dude! Seriously, we got problems.”

When didn’t they? Grim sighed, all that banging racketing through his
temples. He gave Kit a quick kiss. “Don’t fucking move.
I’m not done with you.”

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

Author’s Website

Author on Facebook

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Author on TikTok

Follow AK Nevermore on Amazon

 

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

 

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Ringo Teaser

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Ringo cover

(Grim Road MC)

 

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Age Gap

Date Published: August 23, 2024

 

 

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

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

 

EXCERPT

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

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

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

Or alligators.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

About the Author

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

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

 

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

Author on Facebook

 

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

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Cheshire Teaser

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Cheshire cover

(Underland MC)

 

Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense

Date Published: August 16, 2024

 

 

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

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

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

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

 

 

EXCERPT

 

Eliza

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

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

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

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

This is it. This is how I die.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Open the window,” she urged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All right, but how?” I asked.

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

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

 

 

About the Author

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

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

 

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde

 

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

 

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The Moral Conundrum Blitz

The Moral Conundrum banner

 

The Moral Conundrum cover

Thriller, Military, Suspense

 

 

Reed Stanton is a navy fighter pilot and dedicated family man. As a combat
veteran who was assigned to work with navy SEALs overseas, he is proficient
in hand-to-hand combat and with small firearms. His experience on the
battlefield has caused him to struggle with the morality of killing
combatants in war. He doesn’t want to do it. You can’t unsee
dead bodies.

Out of nowhere, his life at home begins to crumble. Betrayal is everywhere.
Facing struggles in his marriage, friends that turn on him, and no longer
trusting of his military chain of command; he is framed for murder. Who is
doing this and why? His only way forward is to continue to trust people. But
who? Reed must unravel this mystery to restore his world. But can he?

All roads lead to a terrorist plotting an attack on a San Diego air traffic
control facility. On a collision course with a madman, Reed faces seemingly
insurmountable odds as he races to stop the attack, neutralize a terrorist,
confront his own moral demons, and reclaim his life.

 

About the Author

CS Runn

Using a Pseudonym

After careful consideration, I made a conscious decison to represent myself
throughout the site with a pseudonym. I’m sure it defies conventional
publishing wisdom but it enables the preservation of some privacy. I am not
hiding. To the contrary, I am very accessible. I just want the ability to
step back.

 

My Writing Process

While there is keen interest in the book; there was equal curiosity my
writing and publishing process. That led to the inclusion of a section
“On Writing” with information on topics such as my writing
process, locations in the book, and copyright. This section will grow and
there will be more later on publishing and marketing.

 

Background

I was born and raised in south Florida and attended the University of
Florida graduating with bachelor of science degree. Following college, I
joined the navy and attended flight school in Pensacola, Florida. After
being designated a Naval Flight Officer, I reported to VF-124 in San Diego,
California and became an F-14 Tomcat Radar Intercept Officer. During a
twenty-year carrier, I accumulated over 2,200 flight hours and 336 carrier
arrested landings.

Subsequent to my navy career, I went to work for the Federal Aviation
Administration as an operations research analysis. This work included
unmanned aircraft systems research that answered questions about integration
of UAS with manned aircraft into the National Airspace System.

I now live in San Diego, California making frequent trips around the
country to explore our nations great national parks as I once did with my
older brother. I also enjoy spending time “yachting” on JBO –
Jerry’s Boat – a terrific, easy to handle, fourteen foot boat with a 40 hp
motor.

 

Contact Link

Website

 

Purchase Link

Amazon

 

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