Cover Art by Bryan Keller
Published by Changeling Press
Lyssa — I should have known I’d end up with a biker. Most of my friends sighed over men in suits. Not me. I always liked a bad boy in grease-stained jeans. Probably comes with being raised by a club President. My daddy didn’t raise a fool, but my mother raised a dreamer. And if there’s one thing I’ve dreamt about the last few years, it’s Beast. He’s big. All alpha. But more importantly, the first time I see him in person, the moment our lips touch, I know he’s going to be mine. I might have been the princess of the Dixie Reapers, but I was meant to be his queen.
Beast — A goddess walked into my clubhouse and turned my life upside down… in the best of ways. Just one problem. Well, two. The first is that my little pixie-sized honey isn’t just any woman. Her daddy is the President of another club, and her grandfather is a world-renowned assassin. And secondly, trouble is on her heels. The punk who thinks he can take what’s mine is easily dealt with, but going toe to toe with Torch and Casper VanHorne is enough to leave any man shaking in his boots.
Good thing I’m not just any man. I’m Beast. President of the Reckless Kings MC. And I’m the man who’s going to claim Lyssa, even if I have to knock her up to do it.
WARNING: Beast contains graphic language and adult content, bondage and spanking, some violence, and touches on human trafficking. But if you want an alpha male who earned his name in the bedroom, a guaranteed happily-ever-after, and no cliffhanger, then you’ve come to the right place.
Preorder for February 5th at online booksellers:
Get it January 29th at Changeling Press
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Copyright ©2021 Harley Wylde
Brick flashed his phone screen to me with a wide grin. “They look good, don’t they?”
I nodded. What else was there to do? I wasn’t so big an asshole I’d deny his sister any true happiness she could find. I’d wanted it to be with me, but after all she’d been through, she’d needed a clean break and a fresh start. Far the fuck from here.
“Kid looks cute.”
“Yeah, she does. Charlotte keeps calling Jenna her miracle baby.” Brick sighed. “I miss the hell out of her.”
He wasn’t the only one. I understood why Charlotte had left, even gave her my full support. Still hurt like a bitch, watching her taillights fade into the distance, knowing damn well she’d never set foot in this town, or even this state, ever again. She’d lost her baby, and the doctors had said she might not have another. She’d proved them wrong.
“How’s what’s-his-face?” I asked.
Brick snorted. “You don’t like saying his name, do you?”
Nope. Not even a little. Every time Brick showed me pictures of Charlotte and her family, I thought about everything I’d lost the day she’d left. I’d been in love with her since long before I should have noticed her. Didn’t matter. I wasn’t what she needed. In the end, she’d settled in Alaska, found herself a nice, ordinary guy who worked for the National Park Service as a wildlife biologist. The guy made enough to take care of Charlotte and their daughter by legal means, and as much as I wanted to hate the man, he seemed like a decent sort.
Brick sighed. “Rob is doing fine. Got a promotion last week, in fact. Charlotte seemed excited.”
Perfect. “Great! I’m sure Rob is the perfect husband for her, and the best dad ever.”
“Look, brother. I’m sorry Charlotte left. I know you had feelings for her, but she’s in a good place. Rob treats her like a queen, and she’s far away from all the shit the club deals with. The only danger she might face is a fucking bear or wolf. And I mean the animal kind, not the humans we run across who are fucking rabid.”
I knew he was right. Knew it, but didn’t have to like it.
“Fine. She should have moved away from here, from the club. I’m glad she’s safe and loved. I won’t say I’m thrilled she’s gone, but I’m happy for her.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. I really did want her to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me. I could do without all the pictures of her new life. Brick liked showing off his sister and her kid, and I accepted it. Just didn’t like it being shoved in my face every damn week.
“You ready for tomorrow?” Brick asked.
Not even close. “Did Torch say what the fuck he wanted?”
“You really haven’t paid attention, have you? It wasn’t Torch who called. It was Venom. The club needs a favor.”
Of course, they did. Everyone wanted something. “What time are they arriving?”
“Any second. Something about wanting to rest tonight, then talk in the morning before they head out first thing.”
“Guess I better drink up.” I finished off my beer and got another. Didn’t have anyone to blame for my shit mood except myself. If I’d made a move on Charlotte sooner, she never would have gotten hurt. She’d have been mine, and I’d like to think we’d have been happy. Hindsight was a bitch.
It was unusual for a club to ask for a favor without giving any details. The Dixie Reapers were a good sort, so I wasn’t worried they’d ask for more than I was willing to give. Even if it was a bit odd. They had clubs they were closer to, even tied to by blood. So why come here? For that matter, why not settle this shit over the phone? It wasn’t exactly a short drive.
The clubhouse doors swung open and light spilled through the doorway, silhouetting a petite woman with curves in all the right fucking places. Hair black as pitch and skin white as snow. Fuck. I sat up a little straighter. Hadn’t seen the likes of her around here before. Maybe today wasn’t such a shit day after all.
She slowly turned her head, taking in the room. When she spotted Brick and me, she sauntered forward, the doors shutting behind her. My eyes adjusted to the dim interior again and I sucked in a breath. A tight black sweater clung to her like a second skin. Ripped denim molded to her shapely legs. The black boots on her feet were tiny but badass. She looked like a biker’s wet dream.
“Dibs,” I murmured, not taking my gaze off her.