Renegade (Devil’s Boneyard MC)
by Harley Wylde
Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
ABOUT THE BOOK
Darby: At fifteen, I thought I knew everything. Having been in foster
care all my life, not much scared me. I’d already faced monsters parading
around as upstanding citizens. But life hadn’t prepared me for a biker who
would lure me in, kidnap me, and abuse me for five years. I got Fawn out of it,
my precious girl, and a lot of bad memories. Being tossed into a dumpster and
left to die wasn’t at the top of my list, but Renegade found me. I’ve never had
a man be kind to me or my daughter before -- especially not a biker -- and I’m
not sure what to think. I want to trust him, but I don’t want to give him my
heart only to have him turn out like every other man I’ve ever known. It would
break me.
Renegade: I lost my family a long time ago, and I vowed I’d never have another. I still have Nikki, my baby sis, and that’s enough. My club is a family, but that’s different. I trust them, and in my own way I love them, but it’s not the same as having a wife and kids. I’ll never go down that path. Then I found Fawn and her mother, Darby, thrown away like unwanted trash. Yeah, Fate’s laughing her ass off right now. They’re in my home, and slowly worming their way under my skin. Hearing their story is enough to make my blood boil and send rage flooding through me. I’ll exact revenge for all they’ve suffered, and then they’ll truly be free, able to move on without fear of being taken again. Except… I might not want to let them go.
WARNING: This story contains violence, bad language, and really hot sex. While there are abuse themes, nothing is told in great detail.
Renegade: I lost my family a long time ago, and I vowed I’d never have another. I still have Nikki, my baby sis, and that’s enough. My club is a family, but that’s different. I trust them, and in my own way I love them, but it’s not the same as having a wife and kids. I’ll never go down that path. Then I found Fawn and her mother, Darby, thrown away like unwanted trash. Yeah, Fate’s laughing her ass off right now. They’re in my home, and slowly worming their way under my skin. Hearing their story is enough to make my blood boil and send rage flooding through me. I’ll exact revenge for all they’ve suffered, and then they’ll truly be free, able to move on without fear of being taken again. Except… I might not want to let them go.
WARNING: This story contains violence, bad language, and really hot sex. While there are abuse themes, nothing is told in great detail.
BUY LINKS
Amazon (Universal): http://mybook.to/RenegadeDBMC
Available at Changeling Press on
September 6th (around 9am EST):
EXCERPT
© 2019, Harley Wylde
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
I fucking hated this time of year. The pumpkins and
shit didn’t bother me, it was more the memories attached to the month of
October that got to me. Today especially. My parents and brother had been gone
for fourteen years but time didn’t make the pain lessen any, which was why I
was at the liquor store restocking my beer, rum, and picking up a bottle of
vodka. Time didn’t heal all wounds, but at least alcohol would numb me enough
to make it through to tomorrow. I knew my sister, Nikki, still had trouble with
this day as well, but she’d suffer on her own or with friends. I didn’t see her
as often as I’d like, but I tried to keep her away from the club. She garnered
too much interest when she came around, and I didn’t want to beat on my
brothers.
I set the items on the counter and the woman popped her
gum and held out her hand. I took out my wallet and pulled out a few twenties,
but she shook her head.
“ID.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I demanded.
“I’m forty-four years old and I don’t look old enough to buy this shit?”
“Sorry. I don’t make the rules.” She pointed to the
sign behind her. We have the right to refuse service for any reason. ID will
be required for all purchases.
I growled as I jerked my license from my wallet and
threw it on the counter. The last thing I needed right now was someone hassling
me over my purchase. It wasn’t the first time I’d been carded and wouldn’t be
the last, I just wasn’t in the mood to deal with it right now. While it was the
law to card everyone, I’d noticed none of my brothers who actually looked their
age ever dealt with this shit.
The woman looked at the ID, scratched at the surface,
and gave me one of those disbelieving looks.
“It’s not a fake,” I said. “Who the fuck fakes the age
of forty-four?”
My mother had once said that there would come a time I
would like looking younger than my actual years. So far, that hadn’t proven
true. It was fucking annoying.
She handed the license back and took my money, then
rang up the alcohol. By the time I was walking out of the store, I was livid,
but I knew it wasn’t really the woman’s fault. She’d been doing her job and not
intentionally hassling me. It was just this shitty day. I’d brought my truck,
knowing what I wanted to buy wouldn’t fit in the saddlebags on my bike, and
stashed the rum, vodka and two cases of beer in the back seat, then pulled a
can from one of the boxes. Before I could pop the top, a sound drew my
attention. A scuff or scratching noise. I set the beer down and slowly crept
toward the side of the building, pausing at the corner. Might just be a stray
scrounging for food, or it could be trouble. A liquor store at night had a
tendency to draw in the bad elements. Wouldn’t be the first time the place had
been robbed, or someone had been held up in the parking lot.
There was a shuffle and something kicked a can. Dog? I
listened harder and heard what sounded like a human’s footsteps. I reached for
the gun at the small of my back, pulling it before I edged around the building,
my finger on the trigger guard of my Sig. Very little light pierced the
darkness, but I saw a small shadow moving. It wasn’t very big. I didn’t know if
I was about to be ambushed by someone trying to hide themselves, or if there
was actually someone in need of help. Moving in closer, my heart nearly stopped
when I saw the dirty face of a little girl. Long, red hair hung in a tangle
down her back, and I noticed her feet were bare. A quick glance didn’t show
anyone else in the area, but I was hesitant to put away my weapon. Wouldn’t be
the first time some asshole used a kid to lure in a victim.
“Is your mom or dad here?” I asked, trying to keep my
tone as non-threatening as possible.
The little girl pointed to the dumpster and began
walking that way. She stopped in front of it and lifted a hand to the opening
on top. I braced myself in case someone leapt from inside to attack, but as I
neared the metal container and peered inside, my breath stalled in my lungs.
Holy shit!
“That your sister?” I asked the girl.
She shook her head.
“Your momma?” I asked again, barely believing the woman
who was likely dead was old enough to be a mother. Then again, maybe she just
aged really well. At first glance, I’d thought she was maybe sixteen or
seventeen. Wouldn’t be the first time a kid had given birth, if she really was
as young as she appeared, but I hoped that wasn’t the case. Kids should have a
chance to be exactly that -- kids.
The little girl nodded.
“All right. I’m going to put my gun away and I’m going
to get your mom out of there. Can you step back so you don’t get hurt?”
She stared at me a moment before shuffling back a step,
then another. It was eerie that she hadn’t said a word, but at least she’d
obeyed. I climbed the side of the container and reached inside, pressing my
fingers against the pulse point in the woman’s throat. I exhaled sharply when I
realized she was still alive, and carefully extracted her. She shivered in my
arms, her body barely covered except for the dried blood and bruises coating
her skin. Her clothes were cut or ripped, exposing enough of her that I worried
what might have happened to her. I hoped whatever asshole had done this to her
would suffer.
“I’m going to get your mom some help. Can you follow me
to my truck?” I asked the little girl.
She slowly approached and reached out to grip my jeans.
She held on as I carried her mother to the front parking lot. The door to my
truck was still ajar. If it weren’t for the club’s colors I’d added to my
tailgate, someone likely would have boosted it. Most people around here didn’t
want to fuck with the club and gave us a wide berth.
I balanced the woman as I shoved the alcohol to the
floor, not even caring at this point if the damn vodka and rum busted other
than the fumes it would create. Whatever these two had been through was far
worse than the demons I fought on this day every year.
“Get in. I’m going to buckle your mom up front,” I told
the little girl.
ABOUT HARLEY
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.
Website: http://harleywylde.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/HarleyWylde
Harley at Changeling Press: https://www.changelingpress.com/harley-wylde-a-196
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