Wednesday, June 1, 2016

 
Title: Your Mess Is Mine
Author: Stephanie Alba
Release Date: May 31, 2016
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I don't trust people who follow their hearts. Hearts are peculiar things. They're necessary muscles that keep us alive by pumping blood and oxygen into our veins. Hearts are also compulsory, often making us foolish. They pull us towards others with a force that aches, burns, and satiates you all at once. Before you know it that mass of tissue is no longer yours.
 
Maybe mine never was.
 
In my case, that draw came from a stranger that left my heart feeling both fulfilled and consumed.
 
I didn't expect to fight her for the last standby seat to New York City. I didn't plan on letting her get under my skin. Or the way her vulnerability tore me up inside and compelled me to care for her. She didn't plan on letting me witness her chaos.
 
Her anxious heart and my perfectionist mind let things get messy.
 
And though we didn't plan for it, our interrupting of each others' lives was exactly what we needed.
 
Sometimes the mess is the most beautiful part of life.
 
 
 
 
 
We opted for dessert wine and some cheese instead of traditional sweets. The more wine she had the more unfiltered Margo became. She wasn't exactly holding back in the first place, but her last semblance of restraint melted away.
 
After paying for dinner, we walked out into the cold fall night. I wanted to take Margo somewhere I knew would make her nervous. Mostly, I wanted to push her to that point of no control to see if I could at least hold her again in some way. Any touch was better than none.
 
Sure, it was fucked up of me to purposely make her nervous, but I was desperate. And where in the past I would have blatantly flirted and tiptoed over lines with women, I didn't want to do that with her. I wanted her to come to me. There was something about letting things unfold naturally that pushed me to be on my best behavior.
 
It wasn't easy though. She'd lick her lips, beckoning me to look at them. Her tongue danced over her crimson lips, inducing a jolt of arousal that shocked through my entire body and ended in my cock. Images of what her naked body and imaginings of how she sounded when she came flooded my mind. I couldn't take it any longer. If I got her in bed, I wouldn't need foreplay. I probably wouldn't last very long either. Wouldn't that be painfully unfortunate?
 
In her tipsiness, she allowed me to put my arm around her waist as we walked. We'd done so in silence till I continued down some subway stairs. She jolted to a stop at the top and shoved against my arms. "Fuck no!"
 
Despite trying to pull her forward, she slithered out of my grasp. "Come on, you gotta do it if you're going to live here, Margo."
 
I took two steps down, leaving us at eye level.
 
Her eyes turned glassy, and they couldn't focus on me. She'd dart from my eyes to the half-lit buildings, or at the people ignoring her odd reaction. "I don't have to do it today, Hudson. I may not move at all…."
 
"Do you trust me?"
 
She hesitated, again looking around at her options for running away before eventually giving in.
 
"Then come here, I'll take care of you," I said, the truth of my words surprising me.
 
Reaching out to her, I waited for her to join me. She tilted her head and assessed me, staring into my eyes before lowering her gaze to my lips then throat. Was she that afraid of the subway? Or was it the offer of my hand?
 
I think it was my words. On the plane the night before, Margo looked at me with such surprise. Sure, we'd bickered, but I’d helped her, and she probably hadn't expected that. Maybe she'd never trusted anyone and didn't know why she wanted to trust me. Just like I didn't know why I wanted her so desperately, or struggled with that same unexpected confusion I couldn't silence.
 
Clasping my hand, she followed me to the automated machine downstairs where I purchased two one-way tickets. We approached the platform, and every little noise startled her. It was kind of cute to see her conquering her fears, but what impressed me was her need to prove herself to both of us. We boarded the over-filled train and had no option but to stand towards the back of the cart. With so many people around, we were squashed close together. I could feel the warmth radiating off her flawless skin. I could smell the remains of her incense and roses perfume that tempted me to lean in and press my nose and lips against her soft throat. The wine had also left me a little unhinged, stealing touches here and there. And she let me. Not once did she address my hand gripping her lower back whenever the train turned.
 
As if the universe could hear my plea, the train pulled out of the next station with a quick jerk and Margo's body propelled into mine. I caught her and wrapped my arms awkwardly around her waist. We were sealed together: her breasts on my lower chest, her torso leaning against my stomach and belt, the apex of her legs just barely cupping the center of my groin. I started hardening immediately, and I doubt it went unnoticed. All my hard edges were at home against her softness.
 
I couldn't help myself.
 
I pressed my lips to the top of her head and leaned over her. Holding my breath, I waited for her reaction to my brash affection, but she gave me back something I hadn't expected. She looked up at me and smiled. It was wide and brazen like her others, but it was also laced with a twinge of sadness. She whispered one thing. "You."
 
To which I replied, "Me?"
 
Margo nodded and pulled the collar of my shirt down before pressing her lips against my neck. They opened and left wet traces of her along my skin. It felt like fire—painful, searing, and warm. I wanted all of her, and I hoped that was Margo's way of telling me she wanted the same.
 
The train stopped and so did she. When she saw Times Square again, she inhaled deeply, the way someone does after swimming underwater for too long. With a squeeze of her shoulder, I led her straight into our hotel; the sooner I got her in private, the better. The elevator music was accompanied with my heartbeat and the machinery groaning around us. I could see all the ways I wanted to please her so clearly in my head, and every nerve ending in my body was burning with the need to touch her.
 
But I couldn't. I wasn't sure I could go through with it.
 
Have you ever had a moment so perfect that you don't want to do anything to fuck it up? That night with the girl in the dress and Chucks was a string of perfect moments all dangling together in my mind. Despite assuming I'd never see Margo again, I still didn't want to risk messing up the image I'd always have of her. It just didn't seem right, at least not if I initiated it. I didn't want her rejection to taint the pedestal she'd earned in my mind.
 
While I watched her walking ahead of me, I thought about making any move I could. I thought about kissing her again and seeing where it went. I considered just bluntly telling her I wanted to be inside her. Maybe she'd have liked that. But as she slid the key into her room door, I remained frustratingly mute. Margo turned and looked at me with heavy eyelids and flushed cheeks. In a raspy whisper, she said words I'd been dying to hear.
 
"Do you want to come in?"
 
"Really?" I stepped back. The desperation I had for her sincerity was drowning me in doubt.
 
Margo moved closer, pressing her soft center against my firm one. With her hand against my throat, feeling my pounding heartbeat beneath my stubble-laden skin, she looked up at me. Her gaze was penetrating and flooded with desire.
 
"Hudson, we've been eye-fucking each other all night, let's be honest now. I'm dying to know what you'll do to me if I let you."
 
With that admission, I became someone else. An animal. A tempted addict. A man craving only her. Grabbing her arm, I pushed her in and shut the door by slamming her against the back of it. She looked up with the most evocative grin and hummed in approval. Looking down at her, I grabbed her neck and wrapped my fingers around it.
 
"You have no idea what I've imagined tonight thanks to this fucking dress and that delicious mouth."
Before she could reply, I sealed my lips against hers. There was no turning back.
 
 
 
 
Stephanie Alba lives in Miami, Florida with her husband, her toddler and their two dogs, Milo and Van Gogh. She's obsessed with Disney, British history, traveling, romances novels, movies, and Halloween. When she's not glued to her laptop or writing in her notebook, she's either: running, planning her next vacation, binge-watching Netflix, reading, or chasing her toddler. 
 
 
 
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Title: Stone, Book #2 Knights Corruption MC Series
Author: S. Nelson
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Artist: CT Cover Creations
Release: June 29, 2016

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Synopsis:
I knew she was destined to be mine the first time I laid eyes on her. Cliché I know, but it was the truth.  Numerous obstacles kept us apart, but I vowed to find a way around them, finally claiming her once and for all.

Consequences be damned. 

Stone Crosswell, VP of the Knights Corruption MC, was known for his notoriously hot temper.  While it served him well when dealing with their sworn enemy, the Savage Reapers, it damaged him in the eyes of the one woman who would redefine his very existence.

His attraction toward her was fierce, his innate need to possess her consuming his every thought.

But would his way of life eventually destroy her?

Adelaide Reins was doing well for herself. Acquiring a coveted nursing position at the prestigious St. Joseph’s Hospital, she thought her life was going exactly as planned.  Until the fateful day she was summoned to her uncle’s club, instantly drawn to the one man who would complicate her carefully orchestrated world.

When a cruel twist of fate rears its ugly head, will Stone and Adelaide’s worlds be ripped apart?  Or will they overcome insurmountable odds, defying fate and finding their happily ever after?

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S. Nelson grew up with a love of reading and a very active imagination, never putting pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard until 2013..  Her passion to create was overwhelming and within a few months she’d written her first novel, Stolen Fate.  When she isn’t engrossed in creating one of the many stories rattling around inside her head, she loves to read and travel as much as she can.  She lives in the Northeast with her husband and two dogs, enjoying the ever changing seasons.

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EMPIRE


BY Rachel Van Dyken


Release Date: May 31, 2016


Must Read ELUDE prior to Empire



SYNOPSIS:

I have lost everything.

My purpose

My love

My soul

Death knocks on my door, I want to answer, but every time I reach for the handle -- the promise I made her brings me back.

So I breathe.

I live.

I hate.

And I allow the anger to boil beneath the surface of a perfectly indifferent facade. I am broken, I don't want to be fixed.

But the Empire is crumbling and it's my job to fix it.

My job to mend the pieces that were scattered over thirty years ago.

A trip to New York, only one chance to redeem a lost part of our mafia family.

The only issue is, the only way to fix it, is to do something I swore I'd never do again.

An arranged marriage.

Only this time,

I won't fall.

Or so help me God, I will kill her myself.

My name is Sergio Abandonoto, you think you know my pain, my suffering, my anger, my hate?

You have no idea.

I am the mafia.

I am the darkness.

Blood in. No out.

 


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EXCERPT:



“Taxi.” I held up my hand. “It’s too cold to walk.”

“Is it?”

“For those of us who have hearts,” I said under my breath.

He paused and then burst out laughing. “Holy shit, was that a dig at me?”

I shrugged as the taxi pulled up.

“Damn, and you’re not even apologizing.”

“It was more of a passing comment under my breath…” I got into the taxi and slid across the cold, worn vinyl seat. “But true.”

Sergio slammed the door after him. “And here I thought I was making a good impression.”

“You offered to kill me if I kissed you.”

The taxi driver frowned into the rearview mirror.

“She’s kidding,” Sergio reassured him.

I refused to let him get off that easy. “You also look at me like you want to throw up.”

Mr. Taxi Driver’s nostrils flared.

“Uh.” Sergio laughed uncomfortably. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“The wife.”

Taxi Driver’s eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his head. Yeah, this was probably the best entertainment he’d had all day.

“I don’t talk about it,” Sergio said in a drop-the-subject voice.

“Maybe you should.”

“I have enough money to afford a therapist, thank you,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Money doesn’t buy happiness,” I fired back.

Sergio released a string of pithy curses. “Did someone spike your milk this morning during show and tell?”

“Lactose intolerant.”

“Sorry. Your Kool-Aid.” His eyes narrowed. “It’s like you’re trying to piss me off.”

Bingo. I smiled. “Funny, that’s what Dante says to me all the time. Just think of all the things you get to look forward to. Isn’t that what you said you wanted?”

Sergio looked ready to strangle me. “No. I don’t believe I asked for an annoying little sister, but if that’s what you’re offering, please don’t let me stop you. Just know, I won’t hesitate to put you over my knee if you get out of hand.”

The minute the words left his mouth. I froze.

He froze.

The taxi driver stared little laser-like holes into the rearview mirror.

And Sergio leaned toward me.

I swallowed as tension swirled around us.

He gripped me by the chin and turned my head to the side, his lips brushing my ear. “It’s like you have a death wish.”

“You wouldn’t do it.”

He pulled back as both of his eyebrows shot up, and then he looked down, like something had caught his eye.

I followed the direction of his gaze and let out a little gasp as a gun dug into my stomach.

“It’s been directed at you for the last four minutes,” Sergio said through a practiced smile. “I meant what I said. Listen well. I keep my word. Kiss me, and blood will be spilled.”

“Y-you’re a crazy person!” I hissed, shoving at his chest. “And I wasn’t going to kiss you!”

“Sure you weren’t.” He put the gun away. “Good talk though, right? Oh look, the movie theater.”

To say that I scrambled out of the car like a kid running away from her kidnapper would be a gross understatement, but the minute my feet hit the pavement, I paused.

My body told me to run.

The guy had pulled a gun.

On me.

I didn’t even watch violent movies, I’d just panicked and said the first thing that popped into my head!

And I was about to go to the theater with a guy who probably showered in blood on a daily basis and by the looks of it — got off on it.

Shivering, I forced myself to take a deep breath and wrapped my jacket tighter around my body.

That was the thing about men like Sergio, or maybe just loyalty in general. He’d promised he would keep me safe, but I wondered if that promise was only extended until I was more trouble than I was worth.

I was safe, not because of what I was to him.

But because of who my dad had been to him.

I was nothing.

And yet, a part of me still yearned to be… something.

Anything really.

Pathetic.

“Change your mind?” Sergio’s smooth voice interrupted my thoughts. He was the type of man you felt even when he wasn’t speaking. His presence was impossible to ignore, kind of like his ridiculous good looks.

Weren’t mafia guys supposed to be old?

Fat?

Chain smokers who bought Cuban cigars and sat behind large desks while counting money and ordering hits on people who pissed them off?

“No.” I finally found my voice. “I was just thinking….”

“About?” His hand touched my back, ushering me forward, but not pushing, almost as if he was giving me the option of still saying no.

I increased my pace so that I couldn’t feel the warmth of his fingertips. “Popcorn.” I turned and winked, hoping it would hide the fact that my body was shaking.

Maybe I was the crazy one.

Because he was armed.

The man was armed.

And he had no qualms about pointing his weapon at me whenever I got too close.

Huh, we’d have a happy marriage.

I guess we’d never argue, since I liked living.

And, you know, breathing.

It would suck not to make my twenty-first birthday because I didn’t fold the towels just right.

And again, I froze.

Was he that neurotic? Or was it just the closeness?

“On a scale of one to ten…” I was proud of the way I kept the shaking out of my voice. Why was I so scared? Oh right, because he’d pointed a gun, no, shoved a freaking gun into my stomach and done it with a smile on his face. “How OCD are you?”

An easy laugh escaped him as he glanced around the movie theater lobby and then back at me. “What makes you think I’m OCD?”

“Things.” I gulped then forced a smile that I didn’t feel. How was I supposed to go through an entire movie knowing he was one uncomfortable conversation away from losing it? “So?”

“What can I get you?” A teen boy looked at Sergio then smiled wider when his eyes fell to me.

Immediately, Sergio wrapped a protective arm around me, basically forcing my body to curve into his warmth. “My wife and I will have two buckets of popcorn, two packs of Sour Patch Kids, and a bottled water.”

I didn’t correct him about the water.

“Wait.” Sergio held up his hand. “Sorry, Dr. Pepper mixed with Coke.”

The teen scrunched up his face then rung us up. His eyes fell to me again then back at the register, like he was trying not to look but couldn’t help it, which was comical, since I didn’t really think I was anything to look at.

When he handed Sergio back his change I could have sworn I heard a growl from my “husband.”

As it was, he jerked the candy so hard out of the kid’s hands that I was surprised he didn’t do a front flip over the counter.

“He’s a boy,” I whispered under my breath. “No need to shoot him too.”

Sergio glanced down at me, muttered a curse. “He was staring.”

“He looked about one science project away from solving world hunger via his mom’s basement… hardly the type of guy that I’d date.”

“Date?” Sergio said it so loudly the people in front of us waiting to show the attendant their tickets jumped and then turned around. “What the hell do you mean date?”

Crap. I’d messed up again.

My palms went sweaty while my face felt numb with fear. Regardless of how pretty he was to look at — I was finally fully aware of how dangerous he was to me.

To everyone around me.

Sweat trickled down my lower back as I gulped down more soda and shrugged. “I just mean, he’s not my type.”

“No shit he isn’t, because you don’t get a type anymore.”

“Right.” I licked my lower lip, pretending not to be scared, pretending to be the brave person I wasn’t was wearing on me.

By the time we made it into the theater I was dizzy.

It was too much all at once.

“So…” Sergio’s voice was in my ear. I jumped a foot. He frowned as if he couldn’t figure out why I’d be so jumpy. “Dante sits behind you, right?”

“Right.” I exhaled in relief. I forgot. It wasn’t a date. It was a challenge. He’d called me his sister, so therefore he was my brother, right? Hah. I relaxed a bit as I pointed to a seat a few rows back and quickly stole the goodies out of his hands then made my way to my own seat before he could object.

The credits started rolling.

And I found myself ducking in the chair.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

As if I was being watched — because I was.

Ten minutes into the movie, I was so stressed out, I almost burst into tears. My back was to him.

Wasn’t that a big no-no? My back was to the dude with the gun.

Even though he was supposed to protect me with the gun, all bets were off now.

Sweat pooled in the palms of my hands.

The music rose as one of the actresses ran down the stairs screaming.

I couldn’t take it.


And then, a body sat down next to me.

Sergio gave me a suspicious look then put a seat between us.

I exhaled.

But it wasn’t relief.

At least I knew where he was.

And where the gun was, he was right handed, so there was that.

I finally allowed myself to relax enough to watch the movie when I saw Sergio’s right hand duck into his jacket.

I gripped the plastic arm rests, my fingers digging into the cheap sticky plastic material as he slowly pulled something out.

He turned.

And I flinched so hard that there was no mistaking what I thought he was doing.

Even though he had grabbed a black cell phone.

The damage was done.

My entire body shook as a big fat tear escaped, I tried to wipe it away but I wasn’t fast enough.

“S-sorry.” I shoved past him and ran.

But my body was too scared.

Too tired

To make it very far.



Get the beginning of Sergio's story in Elude on sale now. 


 



Twenty-Four hours before we were to be married--I offered to shoot her.

Ten hours before our wedding--I made a mockery of her dying wish.

Five hours before we were going to say our vows--I promised I'd never love her.

One hour before I said I do--I vowed I'd never shed a tear over her death.

But the minute we were pronounced man and wife--I knew.

I'd only use my gun to protect her.

I'd give my life for hers.

I'd cry.

And I would, most definitely, lose my heart, to a dying girl---a girl who by all accounts should have never been mine in the first place.

I always believed the mafia would be my end game--where I'd lose my heart, while it claimed my soul. I could have never imagined. It would be my redemption.

Or the beginning of something beautiful.

The beginning of her.

The end of us.


About Rachel Van Dyken:



Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor. 
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers! 
Want to be kept up to date on new releases? Text MAFIA to 66866! 

You can connect with her on Facebook 
www.facebook.com/rachelvandyken or join her fan group Rachel's New Rockin Readers. Her website is www.rachelvandykenauthor.com.

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Title: Jerry's Passion
Series: Insurgents Motorcycle Club
Author: Chiah Wilder
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: June 23, 2016
The first time Jerry saw Kylie, he was taken by her beauty and innocence, but he stayed away because she was too young. A member of the Insurgents MC, Jerry’s life revolves around the club, his Harley, and easy sex. Women clamor for the rugged, tatted outlaw’s attention, and he obliges, but his sights are set on the pretty, young blonde who is all grown up now—sweet curves and all…. Kylie fills his thoughts, and he dreams of his fingers tangling in her glossy hair, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist, her full lips quivering as she comes. Only problem is he can’t have her. But… he can’t stop himself from craving her, and if he acts, it’ll surely cost him everything. His resistance is waning…. Kylie McDaniels is the pretty daughter of Banger—President of the Insurgents MC. She grew up in the outlaw biker world, but her father shielded her from the dark side of it, and she still has an innocence he prefers she keep. Banger is very protective of his daughter, and he’s made up his mind that she won’t fall in love with a biker, especially Jerry. She’d listen to her father, but the hot, muscular biker makes her want to do some not so innocent things. Her insides melt, and her brain turns to mush whenever he looks at her with his hungry, brown eyes. Damn. Why does he have to be so sexy? As Kylie maneuvers her budding sexuality and attraction to Jerry while trying to stay on the good side of her dad, someone is out there watching her, waiting to make his move. He’s come for retribution, and Kylie is the pawn in his scheme. Will Jerry be able to stop the madman before he strikes? Can their forbidden love survive the chaos of the world around them?
The Insurgents MC series are standalone romance novels. This is Jerry and Kylie’s love story. This book contains violence, sexual assault (not graphic), strong language, and steamy/graphic sexual scenes. It describes the life and actions of an outlaw motorcycle club. If any of these issues offend you, please do not read the book. HEA. No cliffhangers! The book is intended for readers over the age of 18.
Prologue
Mid-March
Red Rocks University
Crested Peak, Colorado
He stood in the shadows behind the bush, staring intently at the window on the second floor. A glimpse of her made his heart race and he licked his lips, ripping off the dry skin with his front teeth. She was so damn beautiful. When he’d decided to seek her out, he had no idea how pretty and innocent she was. Since she was the daughter of the president of the Insurgents MC, he’d figured she’d look tough and used-up. But she was a lovely angel with blonde hair that touched the top of her ass, rounded tits that would fit perfectly in his hands, and large blue eyes that sparkled with innocence.
He inhaled sharply. Seeing her had changed his plans somewhat. Watching her come and
go for the past several weeks, he’d grown attached to her. As crazy at it sounded, he wanted to get to know her, become a part of her world.
“Mary, come on up. Taylor and I aren’t ready yet!” Kylie yelled out her dorm window,
her hair framing her face.
The girl she’d yelled out to bounced up the flight of concrete stairs then entered the three story Gothic-style building. It had taken some time for him to find which dorm Kylie lived in.
The university had more than fifteen thousand students, but he’d persevered and he found her. She lived with a dark-haired roommate—Taylor—in room number 222, on the second floor in the middle of the hall. A perfect location for him to watch her as she sat at her desk and studied, glanced down at her phone, or just stared out the window at the Rocky Mountains in the distance, a faraway look in her blue gaze.
The man had been driven to find her, hate and retribution fueling him on, but then he saw
her and his pants grew tight, and he knew his plan had changed. He buried himself further in the bush when the large wooden doors of the building opened and Kylie, Taylor, and Mary filed out, laughing and talking like young college students do. He breathed out when the trio passed by the greenery which hid him. The scent of vanilla, lavender, and patchouli lingered as they scurried down the brick path. Not knowing which one belonged to his Kylie—he’d started thinking of her as his—the young man made a note to find out which aroma was hers.
Slipping out from his hiding place, the man shoved his hands in his pockets, keeping his
distance as he followed the young women. Each time Kylie’s hips swayed, his dick twitched
more, and he willed himself to focus on the goal of his plan.
A broad-shouldered young man approached the girls. “Hey, Ricky.” The slight breeze
carried Kylie’s sweet voice.
“Hey. What’re you guys up to?” he asked.
“We’re going to grab a burger at University Café, then check out the show for Thursday
Thrills.” Kylie moved closer to Ricky. Her stalker growled when he saw her arm rub against the college boy.
“There’s a hypnotist. Everyone’s raving about him. Want to join us?” Mary asked.
He watched as the three women flirted and fawned over Ricky, who kept staring at Kylie
in a way that made his blood boil. Note to self—Ricky’s fucking history!
“Sure, why not?” Ricky looped his arm with Kylie’s, and the four students ambled
toward the café.
Wrapping his leather jacket tighter around him, he leaned against the wall of the Student
Center. He’d wait—he had to. The man wanted to make sure Ricky fuckface didn’t spend the night with Kylie. She was his, and no one would take her away from him. Just thinking about running his hands through her silky hair, and touching her skin—he imagined it would be soft as velvet—made his dick jab hard against his jeans. It wasn’t time yet, but soon, he’d have her legs wrapped around his waist as he plunged his hardness into her tight heat. Their fucking would be sweet and nasty, and she’d cry out his name as she came all over his cock.
Then he’d hurt her real bad. Maybe even cut her delicate throat. 
He had to.
Retribution sucked sometimes.
Chiah Wilder is the author of Hawk’s Property, the first book in the Insurgents MC Series. It is a full length, standalone novel. Its release date is set for October 27, 2015.

Always a lover of books, she began writing at a young age and continued through college with collections of short stories. Figuring she had to grow up and get a “real” job, her writing was placed on the back burner. 

Her love of reading has always be center front in her life. Chiah’s love of bad boys both in and out of fiction has inspired her Insurgents series. She loves an alpha male whose softer side is brought out by a passionate, spirited woman. In fiction there are no rules or boundaries, and fantasies can go as far as the characters want to take them. Steamy, biker romances with rough, sexy bad boys are her guilty pleasure along with brownies, cheddar cheese, and movie marathons. 

Returning to writing has been a dream come true. Writing and publishing Hawk’s Property has been an amazing journey, and she is happy to share the Insurgents family with her readers. She is busy writing her next book in the series.

Chiah would love to hear from you. You can contact her at: chiahwilder@gmail.com
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