Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Publisher: Changeling Press
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Contemporary,
Interracial, MC Romance, Silver Fox, Single Parent/Pregnancy Romance
About the Book:
Meg – For ten years I suffered at the hands of a monster, bought at
auction and forced to be a slave, at the whim of a Columbian drug lord who also
ran underground fights. Then the Devil’s Boneyard came to rescue one of their
own and I was free. I don’t know who I am anymore, or what my purpose is. I
only know one thing. Cinder, the President of Devil’s Boneyard, makes me feel
safe and that’s something I haven’t felt in forever. But one kiss and I’m
seeing him in a new light, and I know that one kiss will never be enough.
Cinder – Meg’s a sweet girl, a little angel who
tends to sing and distract me as she cleans my house. I never said she had to
pay for her keep around here, but she insists. She’s easily thirty years my
junior, which makes me feel like a sick fuck every time I get hard around her,
especially after all she’s suffered. Then I royally fucked up and kissed her.
Now that I’ve had a taste, I want more, even though I know we’re doomed. A
threat to my club, and to Meg, has her under my roof 24/7, and I have no idea how
I’ll keep myself from giving into temptation. Whoever leaked her information to
The Inferno is going to pay in blood. Even if I haven’t claimed her, Meg is
mine, and I always protect what’s mine.
WARNING: Scorching hot sex, a club president who
isn’t afraid to inflict some violence on his enemies, and a woman who discovers
she’s stronger than she thought. Please be advised there are mentions of
physical and sexual abuse, as well as human trafficking of teens, even though
nothing is described in detail.
Where to Buy…
Sneak Peek:
All rights
reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Harley Wylde
Cinder
That damn woman was singing
again. How the fuck was I supposed to concentrate on club business when she was
sashaying all over the damn house belting out whatever song she’d last heard on
the radio? All the women from Colombia were re-homed and off living their
lives. Then there was Meg. Damn woman refused to leave the compound unless I
sent two men with her. She was constantly jumping at shadows, and doing things
like organizing my fucking closet by item type and color. Who the fuck did that
shit?
When she started the song over, I
growled and threw my pen across the room, watching it bounce off the wall and
clatter to the floor. No matter how damn annoying I found it, I couldn’t very well
go down there and growl at her. I’d tried it once and she’d promptly burst into
tears before running from my house. Then I’d felt like an asshole for scaring
her. I didn’t know what to do with her. The men gave her a wide berth most of
the time, unless she needed something. They were all there in an instant if
they thought Meg was having trouble, or needed protection.
She was always cooking for
someone or other, cleaning my fucking house, doing my laundry. Hell, she even
bought my groceries. I should be thrilled I didn’t have to handle any of that
crap anymore, and I might have been, if the woman didn’t make me hard all the
damn time. Even now, with her singing the same thing over and over, I was hard
as a fucking steel post. I was staring sixty in the eye and Meg couldn’t be
more than twenty-five or twenty-six. Young enough to be my daughter, damn near
young enough to be my granddaughter. Made me feel like a sick fuck, even though
the age difference didn’t seem to bother my VP. He was more than twenty years
older than his wife, Clarity, and I’d never seen two people so in love. Except
maybe Havoc and that psycho woman of his.
When I’d reached forty and hadn’t
found a woman, I’d decided that family shit just wasn’t for me. I hadn’t even
touched the club sluts, not in a long-ass time. It had gotten too fucking
complicated when I discovered some of them were trying to get pregnant on
purpose to trap me and the others in my club. After that, I went on dates here
and there with older women in surrounding towns. I hadn’t scratched that itch
in probably six months, which might explain why Meg was getting a rise out of
my dick all the damn time. Or maybe it was just how sweetly she was curved. I
had no doubt she’d be a nice handful if I had her in my bed.
My eye twitched when Meg started
her damn song yet again. It wasn’t that the song was annoying so much as it
pissed me off that my dick seemed to like her voice a little too much. I
unfastened my pants, knowing there was only one way to fix this shit, at least
for an hour or two. I pulled open the desk drawer and grabbed the bottle of
lube and dragged the box of tissue closer. After squirting a liberal amount of
the liquid on my palm, I wrapped my hand around my shaft and started stroking.
My eyes slammed shut as her voice carried through the closed door, and I
imagined the sounds she’d make as I pounded into her. It only took a few
strokes after that for my cum to cover my hand and hit the desk. I groaned as
my dick twitched but didn’t completely deflate.
After cleaning myself and the
desk up, I tossed the tissues into the trash and shoved my chair back. I rose
to my feet, fastened my pants, and decided enough was enough. The way she was
affecting me today, I knew I’d be hard again within an hour, and I had too much
shit to do to keep jerking off. I went through the house to the kitchen, where
she’d dumped the laundry all over the table and seemed to be matching socks.
Her hips swayed back and forth as she belted out the lyrics to whatever pop
song was stuck in her head this time.
“Is all that fucking racket
really necessary?” I asked, my tone a bit harsher than I’d intended.
She gasped, her hand at her
throat as she spun to face me. Her wide, frightened eyes made me feel like a
complete shit, but I could only handle so much. I needed her gone. Not just
from my house, but from the compound. I just hadn’t figured out how to make
that happen yet. I couldn’t exactly toss her out without anywhere to go or a
way to take care of herself. I wasn’t that big a monster, but she was too
fucking tempting.
“I can’t work with you singing at
the top of your lungs,” I said. “I need to get the week’s numbers to Shade by
end of the day so he can pay everyone, and it requires concentration.”
“I’m s-sorry, Cinder. I didn’t
mean to keep you from working.” She glanced at the table full of laundry. “I
can come back and finish this later. I was going to make lasagna for dinner
with garlic bread, and I can always fold this stuff while it’s cooking.”
I ran a hand down my face, not
sure how to make this clear to her without making her cry. “Meg, I appreciate
you helping around here, and that you seem hell-bent on fattening me up, but
I’m a grown-ass man and can take care of myself.”
“Right,” she said softly, her
hands wringing in front of her. “I’ll just go, then. Sorry about the mess.”
She couldn’t quite hide the flash
of pain in her eyes before she hurried out of the kitchen. A moment later, I
heard the front door shut. I stared at the pile of laundry and wondered how
asking for some quiet in my own fucking house could make me feel like such a
bad man. It wasn’t like she was my fucking wife. I’d given her a place to stay,
but it seemed she was always under my damn feet.
I went over to the table and
swept the laundry back into the basket, then carried it to my room and dropped
it on the bed. I’d fold the shit later and put it away. I couldn’t help but
notice she’d made the damn bed already, with military precision at that. She’d
been a quick study of how I liked to keep things, and made sure everything was
perfect. Too perfect, if my closet was anything to go by. I had to wonder if
she wasn’t a bit OCD.
Now that there was peace in the
house, I could focus on the fucking reports and make sure my men were all paid.
We’d sold a truck full of guns and ammo to some ex-military men I knew who had
become vigilantes. Since they didn’t harm innocents, I didn’t mind doing
business with them. Even the drugs we sold never made it into the hands of
kids. I made damn sure of that. Anyone who bought from us knew better than to
pull that shit, or they’d end up with a bullet between their eyes. These days
we only dealt in pot, but I didn’t want to hear about some fifteen-year-old
getting high off the stuff we grew and killing themselves or someone else.
I’d scaled back quite a bit on
our illegal dealings, for the most part. We still had the chop shop and had
opened a second one outside of town. The marijuana pulled in a small profit,
and the guns were a nice bonus. When Scratch had discovered his daughter was
alive, and he was going to be a grandpa, I’d pulled back from the heavier
stuff. Didn’t want any of that blowing back on my VP’s family. Shade had said
he could invest some of the club funds and double our profits, so I’d given him
a few hundred grand to play with. Now he was investing over half a million on a
monthly basis thanks to the nest egg those initial profits had brought in.
We’d never be completely legit,
and I was fine with that, but I also didn’t want the law breathing down our
necks and chance any of the men with families getting locked up. It was my job
to protect everyone in the Devil’s Boneyard, down to the smallest kid. If that
meant fewer illegal dealings, then so be it. I still took the odd job from the
government as well, but the older I got, the less they called on me. Couldn’t
blame them. I was still sharp, still had perfect vision, but I was getting old compared
to the eighteen-year-olds they were recruiting.
I’d just finished the week’s
numbers and stuffed everything in a folder for Shade when my doorbell rang. I
rubbed my eyes and hoped like hell Meg wasn’t on my doorstep. I needed to get
laid, and soon, if I was going to keep having her underfoot. I shoved my chair
back and went to see who the fuck was bothering me. When I jerked open the door
I saw Jordan with her two-year-old daughter, Lanie.
“Jordan, everything okay?” I
asked.
She glared at me, her lips a thin
line of displeasure and her eyes snapping with fire. I didn’t know who had
pissed her off, but I had a feeling my afternoon just became incredibly busy.
She was perfect for Havoc, but a general pain in my ass.
“Meg is crying and packing her
shit,” Jordan said.
My heart stuttered in my chest.
“What do you mean she’s packing? To go where?”
“She doesn’t know and apparently
doesn’t care. You. Made. Her. Cry.”
Fuck. I hadn’t meant to drive Meg
away completely, just out of my fucking house. Life was so much easier when I
only had to deal with club sluts at the clubhouse. Adding women to the family
just complicated shit and added drama I didn’t need.
“I never told her she had to
leave the compound,” I said.
“No, just your damn house.” I
heard Jordan’s jaw crack she was so damn angry. “If you don’t fix this shit,
I’m going to leave Lanie with you. For an entire week.”
The demon spawn in her arms gave
me a grin that I wasn’t about to admit scared the shit out of me. I didn’t do
kids, especially not this kid. Loved Havoc, and Jordan for the most part, but
their kid was damn frightening. Anyone else who spoke to me like this would
have met my fist, but Jordan was a woman and I wouldn’t lay a hand on her. Not
to mention, if I upset her, then she’d make it hell on Havoc, and the last
thing I needed was my Sergeant at Arms being pissed at the world because his
wife was being a bitch, even though that seemed to be Jordan’s default setting.
“I’ll go talk to Meg,” I said.
My phone started ringing in my
pocket and I pulled it out, noting CJ’s name on the screen. Jordan’s brother
was a pain just like his damn sister, and I had serious doubts he’d ever be
allowed to patch in, even if he hadn’t been fucking up as much lately.
“What?” I demanded as I answered.
“Uh, Pres, Meg is at the gate
wanting to leave. Alone. With a bag in her hand. On foot.”
I closed my eyes and counted to
twenty. “Keep her there. Don’t open that fucking gate for anything.”
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.
