Wicked Wednesday Reads: Bull
Whee, it’s Wednesday! Never fear, for today I’m here with Harley Wilde and her hot new MC romance Bull (Dixie Reapers MC #4), now available from Changeling Press and other online sellers. Take it away, Harley!
Have you always wanted to write?
I’m not sure that “want” is the correct word to use. It’s more like I “have” to write. If I go too long without putting words on the page, I get a little squirrely. Creative writing assignments were my favorites, even as far back as grade school, so getting to write full-time is a dream come true for me. I never set out to be a published author, but I’m glad I took a chance and submitted that first manuscript.
You write Contemporary Erotic Romance. Is that what you read, too?
Sometimes. I read a little bit of everything, as long as romance is the central theme. Contemporary, Western, Science Fiction, Paranormal…even Young Adult. When I go to the bookstore, the YA section is actually my first stop. For some reason, I prefer my YA books in paperback and my adult romances in ebook.
Do you write long-hand or only on the computer?
I actually have Lupus and osteoarthritis, so writing by hand isn’t really an option for me. Most days, I can barely hold a pen. My handwriting, which was once quite pretty, is now the absolute worst chicken scratch. Typing is easier on my hands, and I type a lot faster than I write.
About how many words a month do you average when you’re writing?
Around 50,000 to 65,000 on average. I’ve written as much as 90,000 in a month before though. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes inspiration strikes and just won’t let go. I really enjoy those months!
Dixie Reapers MC is your current series. Can readers expect more from you in 2018?
I’ll have more Dixie Reapers books out, but I’m also starting a spinoff series called Devil’s Boneyard. I’m hoping book 1 in the new series will be available in July of this year. If all goes according to plan, I’ll alternate between the two series through the end of the year.
Tell us about your current book.
Bull is book 4 in the Dixie Reapers series, but readers met him in book 1 (Venom). I had quite a few people express an interest in Bull getting his own story, and I hated that he’d never found love. Despite the fact he has a grown daughter, he’s never had a meaningful relationship, and I wanted to fix that. I hope readers will enjoy Bull and Darian’s story as much as I loved writing it.
When the guy I’d been seeing turned out to be a rapist sleezeball, I ran…and it let me straight to him. They call him Bull, and I can see why. The guy is massive, and I do mean everywhere. He’s so much older than me, but I can’t seem to care. The way he holds me, murmurs softly to me, I feel safe. No one’s ever cared what happened to me, but he does. I can tell he wants me, even though he’s fighting himself. But he doesn’t have to…because I’m his. I’ve held onto my virginity all these years, but I want him more than I ever thought I’d want someone. I want his hands on me, his body over mine. And for once, I’m going to get what I want. And I want Bull.
Darian’s younger than my damn daughter, but there’s something about the sweet girl that draws me closer. When I look in her eyes, I see that she’s a fighter, but I can also see that she’s been badly broken, and I want to be the one to put the pieces back together. I have nothing to offer her. There’s more than twenty years between us, and I know I need to walk away. I’m just a dirty old man who wants her under me. I’m hard as a damn post anytime she’s nearby, and I have to fight the urge to spread those creamy thighs of hers and drive into her, claiming her body and making her mine…until I have no fight left in me. I wanted to be a better man, to walk away, but I can’t. She begs me so sweetly, and soon I can’t resist anymore. She’s mine. And any fucker who tries to take her from me is going to die a slow and painful death.
Bull didn’t hesitate when he entered the house, but strode into the living room and eased me down onto the couch. He flicked on a lamp and as the room flooded with light, I was surprised to see that he seemed much older than my twenty-one years. There were lines at the corners of his eyes, but he was a very handsome man. As I took in the details of his face, I felt this intense pull toward him. I’d seen attractive men before. Well, mostly boys. But there was something about him, something different. The look in his eyes said he’d seen shit I couldn’t even fathom, and yet the way he watched me… it made me feel all warm and gooey inside.
He pulled off his leather jacket and tossed it onto a chair, and I felt my eyes widen as I took in his broad chest and large biceps. There was some sort of leather vest over his T-shirt, but I couldn’t read the writing. Even if the lines on his face hadn’t belied his age, there was no mistaking his body for that of a boy. He was definitely all man. The T-shirt he wore was stretched tight across him, and my fingers itched to see if his chest was as hard as it looked. I could understand now why they called him Bull. The man was huge. My gaze dipped down below his belt and my cheeks flushed when I saw his cock straining against his zipper. Yeah, he was big. Everywhere.
“What’s your name?” he asked, drawing my attention away from what was hidden in his jeans.
“Darian. Darian Crosse.”
“You don’t sound like you’re from around here.”
I shook my head. “I’m from Georgia. The guy I was seeing told me about this awesome party and brought me here.”
Bull’s eyebrows rose. “And where is he now?”
“Probably still looking for me.”
Bull rocked back on his heels, shoving his hands into his pockets. I was too busy admiring him again to say anything more. I couldn’t say he was beautiful, but I’d never met anyone like Bull before. I felt like I could look at him all day.
“Is he the one you’re running from?” Bull asked.
“Him and the others,” I murmured, still admiring him.
His eyes narrowed. “What others?”
I tipped my head back and closed my eyes a moment. Their faces flashed in my mind, with their leering smiles. Bile rose in my throat as I thought about the words I’d heard, their intentions toward me, and their complete lack of humanity. Fear and revulsion rolled through me, and I knew I was damn lucky to have gotten away.
I focused on him again, trying to shake free from the horror of what had nearly happened to me. “The party Leo took me to expected me to be the entertainment, even though I hadn’t known that at the time. I’d confessed to Leo a few days ago that I was a virgin and was waiting for the right guy and the right time. I thought he was understanding and might be the one. I didn’t realize he was excited about my virginity for another reason.”
“That doesn’t explain the others you mentioned. Who were they?”
“Leo tried to drug me earlier, but I didn’t take the pills. When we got into town, we drove to some rundown place. I think it’s a few miles from here, but I honestly don’t know how far I ran. It was a house full of guys. Some looked younger than me and some looked older. Maybe late twenties or early thirties. When we stepped into the house, I realized quickly I was the only girl there. The guys weren’t quiet about their plans. They were going to take turns with me. All twelve of them and one said he was willing to pay Leo to be the one to take my virginity. Thankfully, it looked like they’d already been partying pretty hard, and they were either drunk, stoned, or both.”
A chill entered his eyes and his hands clenched at his sides. Suddenly the protective man who had been so tender with me looked more like a Viking warrior about to go off to battle. With his long blond hair and beard, I could easily see him with a sword, or whatever Vikings had used in times of war.
“They were going to gang rape you?” His voice sounded calmer than he looked. Anger poured off him in waves.
My throat tightened and I swallowed as tears filled my eyes. I hadn’t admitted to myself yet that that’s what they’d planned. Oh, I’d run the moment I’d realized what they were going to do, but I’d pushed it to the back of my mind and not used that word, breaking it down into pieces I could stomach instead of looking at the whole picture.
Bull noticed my distress and sank down onto his haunches in front of me. Some of the anger had faded from his eyes, and the tender guy who had picked me up off the pavement was back. He reached for me slowly, brushing tears off my cheeks that I hadn’t even realized I’d shed. That was enough to make the dam break and I started crying in earnest. Bull gathered me in his arms and sat on the couch, settling me in his lap. Cradled against his broad chest, I felt like nothing could harm me. I clung to him, my hands twisted in the fabric of his shirt, as I soaked him with my tears. He didn’t seem to mind though, murmuring words of comfort to me.
Despite my distress over what had nearly happened to me, I felt completely safe in his arms. Being held by him was almost like coming home. That sense of rightness, of belonging. I’d never had that before, and it startled me that I would feel it now, with a complete stranger. I’d tried to always trust that inner voice though, and mine was saying that Bull was different, special.
“If they come here, will that guy at the gate tell them I’m here?” I asked as I got myself under control again.
“No. Johnny won’t say a word to anyone about you being here. Except maybe to Torch.”
I sniffled. “You all have weird names.”
Bull chuckled. “They’re road names. I’m part of the Dixie Reapers MC. Bull is what they call me.”
“MC. Like in Sons of Anarchy?”
He snorted. “Not exactly. Oh, our hands aren’t clean, but most of that show was strictly drama meant to entertain people.”
“So, if Bull is your road name, what’s your real name?” I asked.
I could see the hesitation in his eyes, and I wondered if it was taboo to ask him that. I didn’t know anything about the way of life in an MC. I hadn’t even been around bikers up close before, except watching them pass by on the freeway. He was the first I’d ever spoken to.
“Michael. My name is Michael, but outside of this house, I’m Bull and only Bull.”
I nodded. “I understand.”
He softly caressed my cheek. “But you can call me Michael if you want. When we’re here, by ourselves. No one’s used that name in a really long time.”
I felt the bulge in his pants pressing against my ass, and I didn’t think it was possible, but it felt like it was growing even larger. Holy hell! My breath caught in my throat at the unmistakable desire in his eyes. No one had ever looked at me like that. Oh, boys had told me I was pretty and said they wanted to fuck me. But the way Bull — Michael? — looked at me… it was like he wanted to devour me. My nipples pebbled and as his hands shifted, I felt a sudden jolt in my core.
This is wrong, Darian. What the hell is the matter with you? You were almost raped and now some stranger is turning you on? Are you just going to give it up to some random guy?
Despite my inner pep talk, my body didn’t seem to be listening. Desire curled through me, heating the blood in my veins. Even if his arms hadn’t been around me, I wouldn’t have gotten up and walked away. I’d waited so long to feel like this. Was the timing all wrong? Oh yeah. But I couldn’t ignore the way I felt, didn’t want to ignore it.
If you missed the first three books in the Dixie Reapers series, you can check them out here.
Where to Buy
Changeling Press | Amazon | iTunes | Barnes & Noble | Kobo
About the Author
Short. Erotic. Sweet. Harley’s other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. When Harley is 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.
Harley Wylde is the “wilder” side of award-winning author Jessica Coulter Smith. Visit Jessica’s website at jessicacoultersmith.com or Harley’s website at harleywylde.com. Want to be notified of new releases or special discounts? Sign up for her newsletter!
For fans of Gay Romance, Harley/Jessica also writes as Dulce Dennison.