TGIF! Let’s kick off the weekend with Harley Wylde’s hot new MC romance Jackal, now available from Changeling Press and other online purveyors of fine romance. Take it away, Harley!
Josie: I spent an amazing three days with Jackal before he disappeared, back to his club, the Devil’s Boneyard. He’d made it clear what we had was a temporary thing — he never wanted the picket fence and kids. I was fine with that. Then I faced the scariest thing ever. Telling my big brother, Tank, a Dixie Reaper, I was pregnant and alone at the age of nineteen. He wanted to go after Jackal, but I wouldn’t let him. I wanted this baby, and I knew Jackal wouldn’t. I never expected to see him again. Funny how fate has a way of surprising you.
Jackal: I’ve thought about Josie often since I walked away from her over two years ago. When I’m finally back in Dixie Reapers territory, I knew I’d look her up, see if we could have some more fun. I never counted on the little girl glued to her hip, or the fact the kid was mine. So I did what I do best. I ran. But now I want something I’ve never wanted before. My family. Because Josie and our daughter, Allegra, are exactly what’s been missing in my life. I just have to do some groveling and hope she’ll forgive me. Easy, right? I’ve never had a woman tell me no.
Figures the one I want more than anything might be the first to send me packing. But when she gets an unexpected visitor who threatens her and our child, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe. Now that I’m ready to keep my woman and kid, I’m not letting anyone take them away.
I frowned at Scratch. “What do you mean they want me out of here?”
Scratch rubbed his beard. “I didn’t ask questions, but I’d imagine it has something to do with you fucking Tank’s sister the last time you were here. You ran off with her for a few days and I don’t think that went over well with big brother.”
“Shit, Scratch! She’s a grown woman and can make her own decisions. If she has a complaint about our time together, I want to hear it from her.”
“Do you know where she lives?” I asked.
“I shouldn’t tell you,” Scratch said. “They don’t want you anywhere near her.”
“We’re brothers, man. Come on. I just want to talk to her. If she’s pissed at me, fine. I want to hear it from her.”
He watched me for a moment, then nodded. “I heard she’s been living with Tank. Green two-story house about two miles down the road,” he said, nodding to the left of the compound. “But if Tank beats the shit out of you for going after his sister, you’re on your own. You’ve already been warned away.”
“I’m just going to talk to her. If she wants me to leave, then I will.”
“Don’t stir shit up, Jackal. I’ll send you packing and ask someone else to come help. You hear me?” Scratch asked.
“Yeah. I hear you.”
I got on my bike and went in search of Tank’s house. The car parked in the driveway of the green house looked to be the same one that had been outside the clubhouse that night over two years ago. I killed the engine on my bike and walked up the porch steps, then knocked on the door. A slightly curvier Josie opened the door, her hair up in a messy bun, no make-up on her face, but fuck if she didn’t look gorgeous. Her hips seemed a little wider than before and her breasts looked bigger too. She damn near took my breath away, and I knew I was staring. There were dark circles under her eyes, and there was a yellow smear on her tank top, but I ached to reach for her.
I smiled. “Hi, Josie.”
Her eyes went wide and she stepped outside, pulling the door mostly shut behind her. She cast a nervous glance into the house before facing me again.
“What are you doing here, Jackal?”
“I came to help Zipper and I wanted to see you.”
She nervously looked over her shoulder again through the crack in the door, pulling it closed a little more before looking at me. Something was up, but I didn’t know what. I knew Tank wasn’t in there, so who was? Was there a guy in there she didn’t want me to see? I hadn’t really thought about her hooking up with someone while I was gone, but I should have. A beautiful redhead like Josie? She probably had men falling at her feet.
“You should go,” she said.
“Go, but… What’s going on, Josie? Are you pissed I didn’t call?” I glanced at the door, anger burning in my gut. “Is there someone else?”
“Please, Jackal. I can’t do this right now.”
She stepped back inside, careful that I wouldn’t see into the house, then shut the door. I heard the lock click and her footsteps wander away.
What the fuck was going on?
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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 is the bestselling author of the Dixie Reapers MC series. You can find her at harleywylde.com!
Whee, it’s Wednesday! Never fear, for today I’m here with Lynn Burke and her hot new MC romance Hawk (Fallen Gliders 2), now available from Evernight Publishing and other online sellers. Take it away, Lynn!
As a member of the Fallen Gliders, bad boy biker Hawk Richards tends to use his fists first and has fucked his way through the club whores. Life has been a never ending supply of bikes, women, and beer. When his brother hands in his colors, Hawk is sworn in as the new Sergeant at Arms and struggles to find meaning in the club and his existence. Until her.
Janie is curvy as fuck and the sweetest thing Hawk has ever seen. The young woman with the joy of life in her eyes is everything he’s been missing, everything he’s ever wanted. When the little butterfly falls into his arms, he wonders if someone might finally look beyond his ink and reputation to see the man hiding underneath.
Janie’s life has always been a roller coaster, and even though she’s flying high with Hawk, she knows a crash is inevitable. The last thing she wants is for him to be burdened with picking up the pieces. But how can she resist him? His touch makes her burn, and every minute in his bed intensifies her craving for more.
Can Hawk convince Janie he wants her for the long haul, or will the secret she keeps tear him from her side forever?
We’d been in Sturgis for almost a week, and I hadn’t fucked a single woman. My outlook on life sucked the previous couple of months, to the point the thought of having my cock shoved down a willing throat or burying myself balls-deep in some random cunt didn’t even twitch my dick. I felt like a wind-blown leaf with no sense of purpose, no desire for sex or companionship. I’d taken to drinking harder stuff than my usual beer but knew the slump I floundered in wouldn’t end well unless I decided to pick my ass up and figure out my life.
Perhaps today’s the day, I told myself, picking up the shot of whiskey our waitress sat in front of me.
A flash of red-brown hair drew my gaze to the far left before I could pop out the toothpick and down my drink. A little butterfly with gray-green eyes flashing along with her wide smile. Dimple, full lips, high cheekbones—a fucking model in a tight tank and Daisy Dukes.
My cock thickened inside my leather pants, and my head turned as she slowly passed by the picture window, her face animated and lips moving as she chatted with her friends, the joyful gleam in her eyes snaring me tight. She radiated life, an exuberant, light step while I wallowed in my shit life.
Jealousy and yearning for what she experienced clenched my chest, and I found myself rubbing a hand over tattooed pecs I spent hours sculpting on a daily basis.
The little butterfly passed beyond the window, and I sat back, not realizing I’d leaned forward to keep her in sight.
“Finally see something worth fucking?” Jonny asked with an elbow to my ribs.
“Fuck, yeah. Reddish hair—not the dyed kind—and tits out to here,” I said around my toothpick, holding my hand out a few inches away from my chest. “Young and full of life.”
One of Jonny’s eyebrows rose. “What the fuck you sitting here for?”
I hesitated to glance around the group of men—fellow Fallen Gliders from across the States, discussing the lighter aspect of business. A large meeting had taken place the night before, the heads of the chapters sitting down to discuss the future of our club. Just more depressing shit to pile on life.
“Go on,” Jonny encouraged, elbowing me again.
I hopped off my stool and pushed my way through the crowd for the front door. At six-foot-five, I had no trouble seeing over most of the heads bobbing to my right as I stepped out onto the sidewalk.
The roar of mufflers and cranking music from Christ knew where filled my ears as I breathed in the scents of exhaust, sweat, and cheap perfume in the night air. I took a half-dozen steps to the right, scanning the crowd of people on the sidewalk in front of me before pulling up short. No fucking way I was going to find her unless I acted like an asshole and shoved people out of my way while hurrying the way she’d gone.
Curses flew from my lips while I turned back toward the bar. A voice in my head sang a country hit, reminding me that if we were meant to be, it’d be.
“No fucking luck?” Jonny asked as I slumped back onto the stool.
My scowl sufficed for an answer.
Tipping back my head for the whiskey burn didn’t help my shit mood. Neither did the bloody burger and pile of fries fifteen minutes later. Thoughts of the little butterfly warred with depression in my mind, and I called it an early night, leaving my brothers behind. The quietness of the hotel didn’t offer anything but a hot shower where I could blow the load that had been building in my balls for weeks.
At least I had a semi-purpose … find the vivacious little butterfly and steal some of her joy in life for myself.
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Sign up for Lynn’s Newsletter, and read the ENTIRE first chapter of Hawk AND enter to win an ecopy of Nicky, FG #1!
Other books in this series: Nicky, Fallen Gliders #1
About the Author
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.