Showing posts with label motorcycle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label motorcycle. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 3, 2016

#FREE Uncover Me


Uncover Me

Men of Inked #4
by Chelle Bliss


THIS WEEK ONLY! HURRY!

AMAZON
IBOOKS
NOOK
KOBO
GOOGLE
AMZN UK
AMZN AU
AMZN CA
THOMAS GALLO'S STORY IS FREE!
I lost track of my life. Spiraling down the rabbit hole, I lost myself and became one of them. Living undercover within the MC, the days bled together as I became absorbed in a life of excess and violence.

Becoming consumed was easy. Now there’s a darkness that has settled deep in my soul, fusing with my heart and altering my reality forever. The road I’ve traveled has been paved with danger, death, and deception.

Roxanne grew up as part of the MC, a victim of her birth. Her life has been treacherous, setting her on a course of torment and destruction.

When our worlds collide, secrets are revealed. Trying to save us from damnation, I fight for redemption and the woman I love.

BOOK 1 - THROTTLE ME - IS ALSO FREE!


Wednesday, February 3, 2016

He'll take her for a Hard Ride

The second book in the Slayers MC Series, Hard Ride, is now available!

*** Warning: this book is intended for those over 18 yrs old due to violent, sexual, and mature content. ***
Dawson McCade, president of Riverdale chapter of The Slayers MC, has everything under control for the moment, although he knows it could change in an instant. The Conquistador drug Cartel is being held at bay thanks to the last minute kidnapping of the Cartel leader's daughter, Caterina Jimenez. Dawson knows they're nipping at his heels, though, just waiting for the opportunity to strike. It's up to him to think ahead and find a way to make this temporary truce between them last... otherwise it'll be an all out war. One Dawson has doubts about winning. He has a brand new Ol' lady, Molly aka "Angel" and a new family to protect. He has more than enough to lose if things don't go how he needs them to. It's up to Dawson and the club's enforcer, Chase Barrett, to find a way to keep everyone and everything that they love safe from the Cartel. What happen's if one of the very things the Cartel is after, is the one thing Chase discovers he isn't willing to give up? *************************************************************** Caterina, "Cat, Jimenez is the twenty-three year old daughter of one of the most powerful drug Cartel leaders in Mexico. She hates the life she's been born into, hates everything about the power and wealth her family has amassed. Convincing her family to let her study Medicine across the border in Texas was her way of escaping the life that threatens to claim her just as it had her mother. She had done what she thought she'd never be able to... to be free. That is, until she's swept up and taken in the middle of the day on her way to class by a rough and tough biker named Chase. He says he'll let her go. He says she's not in any danger, but she knows better. She knows not to trust men like this, having seen first hand what they're capable. So, she does the only thing possible. Cat sets in motion a plan to escape her captor. using her feminine charms to seduce and trick him, waiting for the perfect moment to make her move. Cat has no idea how much is riding on her, how much depends on Chase being able to keep her. They're both about to find out, in HARD RIDE, book 2 in The Slayers MC series, meant to be read in order following book 1, FIRST RIDE.
You can now purchase Hard Ride on Amazon: http://amzn.to/1UKI4DU




More About Tara Oakes
Tara is a thirty something newbie author from Long Island, New York. She's a voracious reader, a passionate writer and obsessive junk T.V. aficionado. When she's not doing one of those three things she is attempting to garden, hanging with her hubby or partaking in some retail therapy. She enjoys connecting with her readers and is having a blast entering into this new world of publishing.


Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Can she lead him on to Redemption Road?


REDEMPTION ROAD
a Vicious Cycle novel
by Katie Ashley

an MC Romance

About the book:

Looking for a walk on the wild side, Annabel Percy, the daughter of a powerful politician, gives in to an attraction to a sexy biker she meets one night. But she finds herself living a nightmare when she’s kidnapped and transported into a hell on earth she never could have imagined.

Born and bred into the Hells Raiders MC, Nathaniel “Reverend” Malloy lives and dies for his brothers. But when he becomes the unexpected savior of a rival club’s captive, Rev makes it his personal mission to nurse Annabel back to health—and to shelter her from the nightmares that torment her.

Once Annabel heals, she’s stunned to realize she is falling for the seductive man who saved her. Faced with their impossible attraction, can she accept the life he leads, or will Rev walk away from the only life he’s ever known for the woman he was never supposed to love?
Buy links:
 
Amazon     Kindle     Barnes and Noble     Nook     
iBooks     Books a Million     Kobo
 
 
About the author:

Katie Ashley is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of The Proposition Series, Runaway Train series, and several New Adult and Young Adult titles. She spent the last eleven years teaching both middle and high school English, but is now a full-time writer and currently lives outside of Atlanta.

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

Too Hard to Handle


 
Too Hard To Handle
a Black Knights Inc novel
by Julie Ann Walker
an Action/Suspense Military Romance
 
 
"The Man" is back

 Dan "The Man" Currington is back in fighting form with a mission that takes him four thousand miles south of BKI headquarters, high in the Andes Mountains of Peru. He's hot on the trail of a rogue CIA agent selling classified government secrets to the highest bidder, when Penni DePaul arrives on the scene. Suddenly the stakes are higher, and keeping Penni safe becomes Dan's number one priority.
 

And this time she's ready

 A lot has changed since former Secret Service Agent Penni DePaul last saw Dan. Now a civilian, she's excited about what the future might hold. But before she can grab onto that future with both hands, she has to tie up some loose ends-namely, Dan Currington, the man she just can't forget. And a secret that's going to change both their lives-if they can stay alive, that is.
 
Review by pearls
Action packed and filled with suspenseful sexual tension.  Dan and Penni are an explosion waiting to happen, if they can just get the traitors and hitmen to let them have long enough to ignite each other's fuse.  As the bullets fly and spies are circling, the two are trying to see where the feelings that began during a Malasian mission are headed.  Meanwhile the other two operatives on the mission, Chelsea and Z are circling each other, trying to decide if they want to hit or kiss each other.  If the bad guys could just take a day off, these two couples could create enough heat to rival the sun. 

Thursday, August 6, 2015

Summer Lovin' : Day 1

Summer Lovin' LGBTQ Showcase
Aug. 6-10, 2015
Summer loving had me a blast
Summer loving happened so fast
I met a [guy] crazy for me
Met a boy cute as can be
Summer days drifting away
To, uh oh, those summer nights
 Tell me more, tell me more
Did you get very far?
Tell me more, tell me more
Like does he have a car?
 
 
Ah, yes!  Those romantic summer nights!!!
 
 
Join us as we celebrate Love in all it's forms in literature.
 
 

The Grand Prize Basket is filled with items from the authors.  Check their post to see what they are donating!  Inner Goddess will also be throwing in some swag and books.

Return each day to earn extra entries.
 
 Thursday's word of the day: TOLERANCE

Blog Blast Confirmed Authors
Aug. 6 Layla Wolfe, Jenna Galicki, Natalie Alder, Jacklyn Black
Aug. 7 Charity Parkerson, Andrew Jericho, TL Reeve, Bronwyn Heeley
Aug. 8 Tara Lain, Cree Storm, Rain Carrington, Olivia Black...
Aug. 9 Cardeno C, Brantwijn Serrah, Iyana Jenna, Jordan Ashton
Aug. 10 Heather C Leigh, Alec John Belle, Luci Felthouse

Layla Wolfe
Prize: 2-book set of her Bent Zealots MM/MC series
Bestselling author Layla Wolfe is satisfied with a leather jacket, one bad-ass pink camo compound bow, and a vicarious outlaw lifestyle. Her BARE BONES MC series explores the dark, disturbing life of the biker club in Arizona. Her spinoff series THE BENT ZEALOTS MC is a gritty MM saga.

Layla Wolfe is the pen name of multi-published erotic romance author Karen Mercury. You can find her at:
www.laylawolfe.com
www.facebook.com/layla.wolfe
www.twitter.com/LaylaWolfeAutho
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8072579.Layla_Wolfe 


Series Title: The Bent Zealots MC
Book 1: A Dangerous Reality
Book 2: A Gorgeous Mess

 Keep your lovers close—and your enemies in bed. 

TURK. My club sent me to track him down. And when my mission was over, I never wanted another one again. When I found him, I kicked the crap out of Havelock Singer. I issued the mightiest beatdown of all time. Problem is, we’re evenly matched. We’re equals in every way, and when we finished whaling on each other, exhausted, we fell into each other’s arms.

I’ve never regretted it for an instant. It’s been the ride of my life. But loving another man in the MC world is a risky business. As if our business isn’t already brutal and ruthless enough, Lock’s homophobic sergeant-at-arms Stumpy gets an eyeful of our lovemaking and blackmails us into doing some of his dirty work, or be exposed for what we are—a couple of deviants. This run into the Indian reservation is sleazy and beneath us, but now I’m cornered, and I’ll do anything to keep my sweet Master from being lynched by his club.

LOCK. When that kingpin Carmine Rojas got a load of my beautiful stallion Turk Blackburn, he’d stop at nothing to have him—and Rojas gets what he wants. It’s my fault we’re in this situation. I should’ve kicked Turk’s ass and sent him packing back to The Bare Bones. I wasn’t even close to being ready to come out, but now they’re forcing my hand.

I can hear my destiny calling me. Either I’ll slink back to my club like a hetero bounty hunter with no morals—and no respect from anyone in my own backyard—or I’ll step up to the plate and be the lion of the day. Either way, my lover and I are screwed. Our clubs are going to hound us underground or into another country before we escape this mess—if we don’t die trying.

“Living off the grid and being an outlaw brings a dangerous reality.” –Ron Perlman
Publisher’s warning: This book is not for the faint of heart. It contains scenes of gay sex, consensual BDSM, illegal doings, dubious consent, and man-on-man violence. There is no cheating and a HEA.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jenna Galicki

Prize:  ebook of any title on her backlist
Author of Adult Contemporary Romance

Jenna Galicki loves music, rottweilers and meeting new people. She is a strong advocate for LGBT rights and marriage equality. She volunteers with God's Love We Deliver, delivering meals to people with HIV and AIDS and other life threatening illnesses. She actively raises money and participates in AIDS Walk New York and is a proud sponsor of Children International.

She lives in Long Island, NY with her husband and two dogs. When she's not hunched over a computer, you can find her front row at a rock concert.

Follow Jenna Galicki, she would love to hear from you:

www.jennagalicki.com
Facebook fan page: www.facebook.com/jennagalicki.author1

Facebook friend request: www.facebook.com/authorjennagalicki

Twitter: @jennagalicki


Series Title:  Radical Rockstars

Amazon Author page/ buy link


Book 1: The Prince of Punk Rock
Book 2: Between a Rock and a Hard Place
Book 3: Punk Rock Resurrection

I love her, but I also love him.
She’s everything to me.
He sets my world on fire.
It's our dirty little secret, and it’s about to blow our record deal sky high.
I’m Tommy Blade, the Prince of Punk Rock, and this is our story.


Warning: This book is for mature audiences only.

Tommy Blade is a man with a secret. It’s a secret he only shares with one person, Jessi Blade – and the men he surrenders to in the bedroom. Jessi’s only condition to their tumultuous sex life is that the men are one night stands. But when Angel Garcia enters their life, it’s like a match to gasoline.

Mega-talented punk rock singer Angel Garcia, with his smoldering ebony eyes, tight leather pants and unstoppable stage presence, is a man who is used to getting what he wants. He has his eyes set on Tommy Blade as his new lead guitarist, and as his life partner.

Jessi Blade, sympathetic to her husband's bisexual needs, loves him enough to share him, but she never counted on Angel Garcia to test the threshold of her marriage. He makes her life hell . . . and heaven. He’s her damnation and her salvation. She wants to hate him. She wants to despise him. But his charm and raw sex appeal are impossible to resist. Without warning, she finds herself falling in love with her husband's gay lover.

At the height of it all, their punk rock band catapults to stardom.

Their lives are marred by secrecy, deception and sacrifice. Feelings of betrayal, backlash from the sensationalistic media and threats of blackmail send them down a hard road filled with tough decisions.

They aren't your ordinary rock stars. They're radical rock stars. And they have a big story to tell.

Excerpt:
The faces changed since the last time he was there, but the intention was still the same. It wasn’t a place to socialize or partake in camaraderie or drop in for a drink on your way home. It was a meeting place for men interested in casual sex. The back room served as a shanty for a quick encounter. You could stop in, get your rocks off and be on your way in half an hour. It was a smorgasbord of testosterone, a buffet of muscle and beefcake.

Men flocked around him as soon as he walked through the door. They always did. A guy once told him that it was the mixture of his rugged jaw and strong upper body, offset by the innocence of his big blue eyes that made him so attractive. The ladies always said it was his long blond hair and the guitar.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 

Natalie Alder

Prize: Signed copy of Woven Interest, plus swag
 
I write stories about romance. They center on learning about the characters backgrounds, and life circumstances that mold them into who they are and how they love.
 
I am a sassy 40-something year old. I live in a quiet farming town in New England with my husband of fifteen years and our three rescued cats. After college I facilitated improvement in the physical abilities of children and the elderly then took the opportunity to enjoy my creative side. I love to sew, knit, write...sing and drink martinis (not necessarily at the same time).
 
 
 
tsu   https://www.tsu.co/NatalieA     @NatalieA
 
 
 
 
 
Natalie Alder Website     http://www.nataliealder.com/           
 
 
 
 
 
                                                http://Author.to/NatalieAlder 
 
Twitter      https://twitter.com/NatalieRomance  @NatalieRomance
 
 
 


Series Title: The Tapestry Series
Woven Interests, Book 3
Blurb 

Uptight, serious, introvert…those were the words most used to describe James.
 
The middle brother in the Becker family, owners of a prestigious race horse farm in South Carolina, though austere was covertly a playboy.
 
Unable to resist a beautiful body, whether male or female, James never had a desire to commit to just one. A consummate player, he had no interest in a relationship.
 
Never say never. A broken ankle is the catalyst that leads James to considering a relationship.  Falling for a man already in a committed relationship with a woman was intricate enough. But the likelihood of their woven interests in each other becoming a real relationship is threatened by shallow judgment, the media and a trouble making former barn hand.
 
 
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jacklyn Black

Prize:  3 ebook bundle (winner's choice of her titles)

Jacklyn Black is a 30-ish wife and mom of four who... yadda yadda, who cares? Really. She likes dirty stories writes them so one day she can quit her Evil Day Job. Until then she just has to suck it up. Help Black Quit Her Evil Day Job by downloading more books. Or leaving a review. Just think of her hungry little children.

If you enjoy reading my work, please sign up to be notified of new releases, promotions and Freebie Alerts. When you sign up for my list, you will be able pick any story from my catalog for FREE. I think spammers deserve frost bite on their dicks, so your email is safe with me.

Sign up to be scorched @ http://eepurl.com/bfCoX9

You can connect with me on Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100009215399890

And my blog @ RunsWithBooks:
http://runswithbooks.com/category/runswithbooksblog/



Titles
AMAZON Author Page/Buy links
Red Moon Mates series of shorts

Book 1:  The Alpha's Mate

A M/M Shifter/Werewolf Erotic Romance Short

A Red Moon Mates Paranormal M/M Werewolf/Shifter Short Story
The responsibility of being Beta of a strong pack weighs heavily on my shoulders.

Sneaking into enemy territory behind my Alpha’s back in order to prevent a war she wants, I come face to face with Marsalis, the enemy Alpha, himself. Only, when I’m caught spying Marsalis takes me to a back room and instead of an interrogation, we realize we are actually mates.


The only problem is- he doesn’t realize who I am.


When he finds out will he accept our bond or use me as a pawn? When he decides to hold me in his territory, I know it is as a way to provoke my Alpha. I know one thing, if my Alpha doesn’t have vengeance, she will use my kidnapping as the excuse she needed to start a long, bloody pack war. Is there any way I can stop it? How can I mate my enemy and stay loyal to my pack?


This is a 6K paranormal werewolf/shifter gay short story romance with a hot alpha male and his beta shifter lover. Contains hot shifter sex. First person POV, 1st in the Red Moon Mates series.

The Gargoyle Prince, with Wolf Specter

Book 1: Stone Prince

Sorin, official doctor of the royal Gargoyle court, is approached by a traitor in the Council and asked to sabotage valuable research that could lead to a cure for a degenerative disease culling the ranks of the royal Princes'. He must refuse- the Prince most harshly stricken is the Gargoyle he loves, Mihail.
Mihail, rightful ruler of the Gargoyle throne, is pushed aside when it is clear he has inherited a defective gene. Bred to a warriors stoicism, he accepted his fate, stepped aside, and built a life for himself as a billionaire corporate mogul in the human world. But he was never quite satisfied... especially when the male he loves is also the doctor who treats him and the current ruling Prince- who a faction in the gargoyle court want Mihail to rise up and depose.
Just when the two males begin to open to each other, intrigue begins to sweep them up into a whirlwind of court politics... politics that could tear Sorin and Mihail apart for good. Because no matter how much he loves Mihail, Sorin cannot betray his own kin.
This is a 12K+ MM paranormal shifter steamy romance told in the 3rd POV. It is the first part of a continuing story and ends with a mild cliffhanger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
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Saturday, July 11, 2015

Meet Killian in Pepper Winter’s new MC Romance!

ruin & rule it's live.jpg
Ruin & Rule
Pure Corruption MC #1
by Pepper Winters
an Erotic MC Romance
NOW AVAILABLE


ruin & rule.jpg
Blurb
"We met in a nightmare. The in-between world where time had no power over reason. We fell in love. We fell hard. But then we woke up. And it was over . . ."


RUIN & RULE


She is a woman divided. Her past, present, and future are as twisted as the lies she's lived for the past eight years. Desperate to get the truth, she must turn to the one man who may also be her greatest enemy . . .


He is the president of Pure Corruption MC. A heartless biker and retribution-deliverer. He accepts no rules, obeys no one, and lives only to reap revenge on those who wronged him. And now he has stolen her, body and soul.


Can a woman plagued by mystery fall in love with the man who refuses to face the truth? And can a man drenched in darkness forgo his quest for vengeance-and finally find redemption?


"Ruin & Rule is a full-length book at 436 pages and ends on a cliffhanger. Cleo and Kill's story continues in SIN & SUFFER."


ruin & rule bt teaser.jpg


Prologue
We met in a nightmare.
The in-between world where time had no power over rhyme, reason, or connection. We met. We stared. We knew.
There was no distortion from the outside world. No right or wrong. No confusion or battles from hearts and minds.
Just us. In our silent dreamworld.
That nightmare became our home. Planting ghosts, raising fantasies. Entwined together in our happily skewed reality.
We fell in love. We fell hard.
In those fleeting seconds of our nightmare, we lived an eternity.
But then we woke up.
And it was over.

Chapter One
I always believed life would grant rewards to those most worthy. I was fucking na├»ve. Life doesn’t reward—it ruins. It ruins those most deserving and takes everything. It takes everything all while watching any remaining goodness rot to hate.
—Kill
[ORN_SB]
Darkness.
That was my world now. Literally and physically.
The back of my skull hurt from being knocked unconscious. My wrists and shoulders ached from lying on my back with my hands tied behind me.
Nothing was broken—at least it didn’t feel that way—but everything was bruised. The fuzziness receded wisp by wisp, parting the clouds of sleep, trying to shed light on what’d happened. But there was no light. My eyes blinked at the endless darkness from the mask tied around my head. Anxiety twisted my stomach at having such a fundamental gift taken away.
I didn’t move, but mentally catalogued my body from the tips of my toes to the last strand of hair on my head. My jaw and tongue ached from the foul rag stuffed in my mouth and my nose permitted a shallow stream of oxygen to enter—just enough to keep me alive.
Fear tried to claw its way through my mind, but I shoved it away. I deliberately suppressed panic in order to assess my predicament rather than lose myself to terror.
Fear never helps, only hinders.
My senses came back, creeping tentatively, as if afraid whoever had stolen me would notice their return.
Sound: the squeak of brakes, the creak of a vehicle settling from motion to stopping.
Touch: the skin on my right forearm stung, throbbing with a mixture of soreness and sharpness. A burn perhaps?
Smell: dank rotting vegetables and the astringent, pungent scent of fear—but it wasn’t mine. It was theirs.
It wasn’t just me being kidnapped.
My heart flurried, drinking in their terror. It made my breath quicken and legs itch to run. Forcing myself to ignore the outside world, I focused inward. Clutching my inner strength where calmness was a need rather than a luxury.
I refused to lose myself in a fog of tears. Desperation was a curse and I wouldn’t succumb, because I had every intention of being prepared for what might happen next.
I hated the sniffles and stifled sobs of others around me. Their bleak sadness tugged at my heartstrings, making me fight with my own preservation, replacing it with concern for theirs.
Get through this, then worry about them.
I didn’t think this was a simple opportunistic snatch. Whoever had stolen me planned it. The hunch grew stronger as I searched inside for any liquor remnants or the smell of cigarettes.
Had I been at a party? Nightclub?
Nothing.
I hadn’t been stupid or reckless. I think…
No hint or clue as to where I’d been or what I’d been doing when they’d come for me.
I wriggled, trying to move away from the stench. My bound wrists protested, stinging as the rope around them gnawed into my flesh like twine-beasts. My ribs bellowed, along with my head. There was no give in my restraints. I stopped trying to move, preserving my energy.
I tried to swallow.
No saliva.
I tried to speak.
No voice.
I tried to remember what happened.
I tried to remember…
Panic.
Nothing.
I can’t remember.
“Get up, bitch,” a man said. Something jabbed me in the ribs. “Won’t tell you again. Get.”
I froze as my mind hurtled me from present to past.
I’ll miss you so much,” she wailed, hugging me tighter.
“I’m not dying, you know.” I tried to untangle myself, looking over my shoulder at the final call flashing for my flight. I hated being late for anything. Let alone my one chance at escaping and finding out the truth once and for all.
“Call me the moment you get there.”
“Promise.” I drew a cross over my heart—
The memory shattered as my horizontal body suddenly went vertical in one swoop.
Who was that girl? Why did I have no memory of it ever happening?
“I said get up, bitch.” The man breathed hard in my ear, sending a waft of reeking breath over me. The blindfold stole my sight, but it left my nose woefully unprotected.
Unfortunately.
My captor shoved me forward. The ground was steady beneath my feet. The sickness plaiting with my confusion faded, leaving me cold.
My legs stumbled in the direction he wanted me to go. I hated shuffling in the darkness, not knowing where I came from or where I was being herded. There were no sounds of comfort or smothered snickers. This wasn’t a masquerade.
This was real.
This is real.
My heart thudded harder, fear slipping through my defenses. But full-blown terror remained elusive. Slippery like a silver fish, darting on the outskirts of my mind. It was there but fleeting, keeping me clear-headed and strong.
I was grateful for that. Grateful that I maintained what dignity I had left—remaining strong even in the face of the unknown terrors lurking on the other side of my blindfold.
Moans and whimpers of other women grew in decibels as men ordered them to follow the same path I walked. Either death row or salvation, I had no choice but to inch my way forward, leaving my forgotten past behind.
I willed snippets to come back. I begged the puzzlement of my past to slot into place, so I could make sense of this horrible world I’d awoken in.
But my mind was locked to me. A fortress withholding everything I wished to know.
The pushing stopped. So did I.
Big mistake.
“Move.” A cuff to the back of my head sent me wheeling forward. I didn’t stop again. My bare feet traversed…wood?
Bare feet?
Where are my shoes?
The missing knowledge twisted my stomach.
Where did I come from?
How did I end up here?
What’s my name?
It wasn’t the terror of the unknown future that stole my false calmness. It was the fear of losing my very self. They’d stolen everything. My triumphs, my trespasses, my accomplishments and failures.
How could I deal with this new world if I didn’t know what skills I had to stay alive? How could I hope to defeat my enemy when my mind revolted and locked me out?
Who am I?
To have who I was deleted…It was unthinkable.
“Faster, bitch.” Something cold wedged against my spine, pushing me onward. With my hands behind my back, I shuffled faster, negotiating the ground as best I could for dips or trips.
“Step down.” The man grabbed my bound wrists, giving me something to lean against as my toes navigated the small steps before me.
“Again.”
I obeyed.
“Last one.”
I managed the small staircase without falling flat on my face.
My face.
What do I look like?
A loud scraping noise sounded before me. I shied back, bumping against a feminine form. The woman behind me cried out—the first verbal sound of another.
“Move.” The pressure on my lower back came again, and I obeyed. Inching forward until the stuffy air of old vegetables and must was replaced by…copper and metallic…blood?
Why…why is that so familiar?
I gasped as my mind free-fell into another memory.
“I don’t think I can do this.” I darted away, throwing up in the rubbish bin in the classroom. The unique stench of blood curdled my stomach.
“Don’t overthink it. It’s not what you’re doing to the animal to make it bleed. It’s what you’re doing to make it live.” My professor shook his head, waiting for me to swill out my mouth and return white-faced and queasy to the operation in progress.
My heart splintered like a broken piece of glass, reflecting the compassion and responsibility I felt for such an innocent creature. This little puppy that’d been dumped in a plastic bag to die after being shot with BB gun pellets. He’d survive only if I mastered the skills to stem his internal bleeding and embrace the vocation I was called to do.
Inhaling the scent of blood, I let it invade my nostrils, scald my throat, and impregnate my soul. I drank its coppery essence. I drenched myself in the smell of the creature’s life force until it no longer affected me.
Picking up a scalpel, I said, “I’m ready—”
“Holy fuck!” The man guiding me forward suddenly whacked the base of my spine. The hard pain shoved me forward and I tripped.
“Wire—get me fucking reinforcements. He’s started a motherfucking war!”
Wind and body motion swarmed me as men charged from behind. The darkness I lived in suddenly came alive with sound.
Bullets flew, impaling themselves into the metal sides of the vehicle I’d just stepped from. Pings and ricochets echoed in my ear. Curses bellowed; moans of pain threaded like a breeze.
Someone grabbed my arm, swinging me to the side. “Get down!” The inertia of his throw knocked me off balance. With my wrists bound together, I had nothing to grab with, no way to protect myself from falling.
I fell.
My stomach swooped as tumbled off a small platform and smashed against the ground.
Dirt, damp grass, and moldy leaves replaced the stench of blood, cutting through the cloying sharpness of spilled metallic. My mouth opened, gasping in pain. Blades of grass tickled my lips as my cheek stuck to wet mud.
My shoulder screamed with agony, but I ignored the new injury. My mind clung to the unlocked memory. The fleeting recollection of my profession.
I’m a vet.
The sense of homecoming and security that one little snippet brought was priceless. My soul snarled for more, suddenly ravenous for missing information.
I skipped straight from fumbling uncertainty into starvation for more.
Tell me! Show me. Who am I?
I searched inside for more clues. But it was like trying to grab on to an elusive dream, fading faster and faster the harder I chased.
I couldn’t remember anything about medicine or how to heal. All I knew was I’d been trained to embrace the scent of blood. I wasn’t afraid of it. I didn’t faint or suffer sickness at the sight of it pouring from an open wound.
That tiniest knowledge was enough to settle my prickling nerves and focus on the outside world again.
Battle cries. Men screaming. Men growling. The dense thuds of fists on flesh and the horrible deflection of gunshots.
I couldn’t understand. Had I fallen through time and entered an alternate dimension?
Another body landed on top of mine.
I cried out, winded from a sharp poke of an elbow to my ribs.
The figure rolled away, crying softly. Feminine.
Why aren’t I crying?
I once again searched for fear. It wasn’t natural not to be afraid. I’d woken up alone, stolen, and thrown into the middle of a war, yet I wasn’t hyperventilating or panicked.
My calmness was like a drug, oozing over me, muting the sharp starkness of my situation. It was bearable if I embraced courage and the knowledge that I was strong.
My hands balled, grateful for the thought. I didn’t know who I was, but it didn’t matter, because the person who I was in this moment mattered the most.
I had to remain segmented, so I could get through whatever was about to happen. All I had was gut instinct, quiet strength, and rationality. Everything else had been taken.
“Stop fighting, you fucking idiots!”
The loud growl rumbled like an earthquake, hushing the battle in one fell swoop. Whoever had spoken had power.
Immense power. Colossal power.
A shiver darted over my skin.
“What the fuck happened? Have you lost your goddamn lovin’ mind?” a man yelled.
A sound of a short scuffle, then the fresh whiff of tilled dirt graced my nose.
“It’s done. Throw down your weapons and bend a fucking knee.” The same earthquake rumbled. The weight of his command pushed me harder against the damp ground.
“I’m not bending nothing, you asshole. You aren’t my Prez!”
“I am. Have been for the past four years.”
“You’re not. You’re his bitch. Don’t think his power is yours.”
Another fight—muffled fists and kicks. It ended swiftly with a painful groan.
The earthquake voice came again. “Open your eyes and follow the red fucking river. Your chosen—the one you hand-picked to slaughter me and take over the Club—he’s dead. Did you ever stop to think Wallstreet made me Prez for a fucking reason?”
Another moan.
“I’m the chosen one. I’m the one who knows the family secrets, absorbed the legacy, and earned his way into power. You don’t know shit. Nobody does. So bend a fucking knee and respect.”
Another tremor ran down my back.
Silence for a time, apart from the squelch of boots and heavy breathing. Then a barely muttered curse. “You’ll die. One way or another, we won’t put up with a Dagger as a Prez. We’re the Corrupts, goddammit. Having a traitor rule us is a fucking joke.”
“I’m the traitor? The man who obeys your leader? Who guides in his stead? I’m the traitor when you try and rally my brothers in a war?” A heavy thud of a fist connected with flesh. “No…I’m not. You are.”
My mind raced, sucking up noises and forming wild conclusions of what happened before me. Was this World War Three? Was this the apocalypse of the life I couldn’t remember? No matter how I pieced it together, I couldn’t make sense of anything.
The air was thick with anticipation. I didn’t know how many men stood before me. I didn’t know how many corpses littered the ground, or how such violence could be permitted in the world I used to know. But I did know the cease-fire was fragile and any moment it would explode.
A single threat slithered through the grass like a snake. “I’ll kill you, motherfucker. Mark my words. The true Corrupts are just waiting to take you out.”
The gentle foot-thuds of someone large vibrated through the ground. “The Corrupts haven’t existed for four fucking years. The moment I took the seat, it’s been Pure Corruption all the way. And you’re not fucking pure enough for this Club. You’re done.”
I flinched as the sulfuric boom of a gun ripped through the stagnant air.
A crash as a body fell lifeless to the grass. A soft puff of a soul escaping.
Murder.
Murder was committed right before me.
The inherent need to nurture and heal—the part of me that was as steadfast as the beat of my heart—wept with regret.
Death was something I’d fought against on a daily basis, but now I was weaponless.
I hated that a life had been stolen right before me. That I hadn’t been able to stop it.
I’m a witness.
And yet, I’d witnessed nothing.
I’d been privy to a battle but seen nothing. Knew no one. I would never be able to tell who shot whom, or who was right and who was wrong.
My hands shook, even though I managed to stay eerily calm. Am I in shock? And if I was, how did I cure myself?
The woman beside me curled into a ball, her knees digging into my side. My first reaction was to repel away from the touch. I didn’t know who was friend or foe. But a second reaction came quickly; the urge to share my calmness—to let her know that no matter what happened, she wasn’t alone. We faced the same future—no matter how grim.
Voices cascaded over us, whispers mainly, quickly spoken orders. Every sound was heightened. Being robbed of sight made my body seek other ways in which to find clues.
“Get rid of the bodies before daybreak.”
“We’ll go back and make sure we’re still covered.”
“Send out the word. It’s over. The Prez won—no anarchy today.”
Each voice was distinct but my ears twitched only for one: the earthquake rumble that set my skin quivering like quicksand.
He hadn’t spoken since he’d condemned someone to death and pulled the trigger. Every second of not hearing him made my heart trip faster. I wasn’t afraid. I should be. I should be immobile with fear. But he invoked something in me—something primal. Just like I knew I was female and a vet, I knew his voice meant something. Every inch of me tensed, waiting for him to speak. It was wrong to crave the voice of a killer, but it was the only thing I wanted.
Needed.
I need to know who he is.
Wet mud sucked loudly against boots as they came closer.
The woman whimpered, but I angled my chin toward the sound, wishing my eyes were uncovered.
I wanted to see. I wanted to witness the carnage before me. Because it was carnage. The stench of death confirmed it. It was morbid to want to see such destruction, but without my sight all of this seemed like a terrible nightmare. Nothing was grounded—completely nonsensical and far too strange.
I needed proof that this was real.
I needed concrete evidence that I wasn’t mad. That my body was intact, even if my mind was not.
I sucked in a breath as warm fingers touched my cheek, angling my face upward and out of the mud. Strong hands caressed the back of my skull, fumbling with my blindfold.
The anticipation of finally getting my wish to see made me stay still and cooperative in his hold.
I didn’t say a word or move. I just waited. And breathed. And listened.
The man’s breath was heavy and low, interspersed with a quick catch of pain. His fingers were swift and sure, but unable to hide the small fumble of agony.
He’s hurt.
The pressure of the blindfold suddenly released, trading opaque darkness for a new kind of gloom.
Night sky. Moonshine. Stars above.
Anchors of a world I knew, but no recognition of the dark-shrouded industrial estate where blood gleamed silver-black and corpses dotted the field.
I’m alive.
I can see.
The joy at having my eyes freed came and went as blazing as a comet.
Then my life ended as our gazes connected.
Green to green.
I have green eyes.
Down and down I spiraled, deeper and deeper into his clutches.
My life—past, present, and future—lost all purpose the second I stared into his soul.
The fear I’d been missing slammed into my heart.
I quivered. I quaked.
Something howled deep inside with age-old knowledge.
Every part of me arched toward him, then shied away in terror.
Him.
A nightmare come to life.
A nightmare I wanted to live.
If life was a tapestry, already threaded and steadfast, then he was the scissors that cut me free. He tore me out, stole me away, changed the whole prophecy of who I was meant to be.
Jaw-length dark hair, tangled and sweaty, framed a square jaw, straight nose, and full lips. His five-o’clock stubble held remnants of war, streaked with dirt and blood. But it was his eyes that shot a quivering arrow into my heart, spreading his emerald anger.
He froze, his body curving toward mine. Blistering hope flickered across his features. His mouth fell open and love so achingly deep glowed in his gaze. “What—” A leg gave out, making him kneel beside me. His hands shook as he cupped my face, his fingers digging painfully into my cheekbones. “It’s not—”
My heart raced. Yes.
“You know me,” I breathed.
The moment my voice webbed around us, storm clouds rolled over the sunshine in his face, blackening the hope and replacing it with pure hatred.
He changed from watching me like I was his angel to glowering as if I were a despicable devil.
I shivered at the change—at the iciness and hardness. He breathed hard, his chest rising and falling. His lips parted, a rumbling command falling from his mouth to my ears. “Stand up. You’re mine now.”
When I didn’t move, his hand landed on my side. His touch was blocked by clothing but I felt it everywhere. He stroked my soul, tickled my heart, and caressed every cell with fingers that despised me.
I couldn’t suck in a proper breath.
With a vicious push, he rolled me over, and with a sharp blade sliced my bindings. With effortless power, so thrilling and terrifying, he hauled me to my feet.
I didn’t sway. I didn’t cry. Only pulled the disgusting gag from my mouth and stared in silence.
I stared up, up, up into his bright green eyes, understanding something I shouldn’t understand.
This was him.
My nightmare.
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About the Author:
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Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex... her books have sex.
 
She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.


Her Dark Erotica books include:
Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)
Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)


Her Grey Romance books include:
Destroyed


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