by Layla Wolfe
http://amzn.to/1G93WGM
Ride on. Ride on.
HARTE: After a world-changing run-in with the guy I thought was my father, I went on the road to find myself. I patched over to The Bent Zealots MC, an out-and-proud club on the Colorado River. A cock virgin, I raced to experience all I could, eagerly sniffing every nook and cranny, a whole new existence offered up by Grindr. But when Ormond Tangier was assaulted by a rival club, I quickly got down to brass tacks, to show my new brothers I was all business.
Too bad that business involves Bond Blackburn, jailbird brother of our Prez, Turk. That guy is so far in denial he’s practically Egyptian. But he even he can’t deny what I saw with my own eyes at the gay club. Sure, I was on my knees paying homage to a Daddy Dom, but Bond can’t pretend he wasn’t getting some oral praise as well. And now they’re telling me I have to work with this hypocrite?
BOND: This club is a fucking joke. How’s a man supposed to make a new start after the joint? First, my own brother forced me to prospect. I couldn’t automatically rise to the top of the heap through my family connections. No, I’m supposed to labor in a noxious sweatshop making product for their pot dispensary. And I have to sneak downtown if I want to get some halfway decent head, because I don’t even want my gay so-called brothers knowing about my shameful hobby.
Now we’re reaching out to the cops to even the score with those Hellfire Nuts who abused Ormond. And that delicious Harte Saxonberg is getting my goat, so by-the-book, such a bleeding heart. I just want to strangle him—or fuck him.
HARTE: I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, one that slab of a man, Bond Blackburn. He kisses me, then punches me. Fucks me, then ignores me. He’s got me so upside-down I’ve lost the clarity I had a week ago when I rode west. Ride west, young man. I could be a steam train if I could just lay down my tracks. But the only name I’m calling out is that sexy convict’s.
Ride on. Ride on.
Publisher’s warning: This book is not for the faint of heart. It contains scenes of gay sex, public play, exhibitionism, illegal doings, transsexual issues, vaguely legal marijuana operations, and violence against men. It’s a full-length novel of 60,000 words rated 18+ due to possible triggers. There are no cheating or cliffhangers, and HEAs for all.
Through a Glass, Darkly
Assassins of Youth MC Book 1
www.amazon.com/dp/B019D8U67Q
MAHALIA
I didn’t want to be born. Something went wrong along the way, and I’ve been unsure about my purpose on this earth ever since. If I was hit by a car, if I fell off a cliff, would anyone care? Living in Cornucopia with my sister wives under the watchful eye of our husband, Allred Lee Chiles, has turned me into a robot, unable to feel or think for myself. I’ve been looking through a cloudy glass, not trusting myself or others.
But a man came down from the mountains. I’m captivated by Gideon Fortunati, his name expressing all that he is—keeper of my fate, master of reality, teacher of my future. Gideon’s purifying power has enlightened me about my capabilities. I don’t have to let The Prophet take my daughter and marry her off to that old man. I was guilty of dirt and sin, but I can take my life back now.
GIDEON
I was exiled to this godforsaken wasteland in Utah by our MC Prez. My entire existence has been a struggle, a futile tirade against my maker. I ranted against my fate, and in answer I was sent Mahalia. A naive victim of that twisted false Mormon sect leader. He’s tried to mangle her like a spineless puppet, like he has all the other women—the other girls.
Before I met her, I was a child. Now I’ve given up childish ways, and I can see everything in a mirror, face to face. Faith, hope, and love were all handed to me, and the greatest of these is love. I’ve come too far. There’s no surrender now.
It didn’t look that far on the map.
Publisher’s Note: This is a full-length, standalone novel with a HEA and no cliffhanger. Possible triggers include underage arranged marriage, forced oral copulation, and male prostitution.
A Leap in the Dark
Assassins of Youth MC Book 2
www.amazon.com/dp/B01CMWJXYW
Kiss slowly. Play hard.
OAKLYN
That arrogant, loathsome bastard, leader of the Lost Boys, had the nerve to move to Avalanche. Levon left behind his empire of sleaze to invade the tiny, sleepy town I’d decided to call home. I wanted to get away from smut and abuse and into a fresh, innocent place where nobody knew my name, only to be followed right into my very house by the King of Corruption himself.
I could handle it if he was physically gruesome. But he struts around with his muscles bulging and his cornflower blue eyes sparkling. I’m a nurse, a practical, sensible gal. But when Levon needs my help, I put away my pride and come running. And he’s going to need a lot of help to go up against the dirtbag Avalanche mayor, blackmailing Levon with his shameful past.
LEVON
She’s proud, conceited, and holier-than-thou—everything I hate in a woman. But maybe it’s been too long since I had one, because when she steps up to the plate to help me, I’m doomed. I had to knock her down a few pegs once she knew I wanted her. Joining the Assassins of Youth motorcycle club and giving Oaklyn a few sessions over my knee just seemed to increase her yearning, though.
She’s a sizzling hot tornado of a woman. I need her to fight back against the fucking corrupt politicians in this town we’re trying to transform. I might have come from a sordid, disgraceful background with my group of Lost Boys. But I’m determined to move into the light and the purity that will make this town great.
Publisher’s Note: This is a full-length, standalone novel with a HEA and no cliffhanger. Possible triggers include male prostitution, mild consensual BDSM, sexual abuse, and crooked municipal blackmail.
Dynomite
A Stepbrother Cowboy Romance
www.amazon.com/dp/B013ZW79NK
I met him on the shittiest day of my life.
And being arrested for prostitution wasn’t the worst part.
Legend had it my new stepbrother was called Dynomite because, well, he spewed like a raging volcano.
That only made me hate him more, thinking about his damned volcano. I loathed him and his arrogant vanity, his smug self-assurance. Dyno Drummond had no reason for vanity as far as I could tell. He was just an outlaw, a horse that couldn’t be tamed, a down and dirty vaquero who dreamed of being a rodeo star.
He busted his way into my life, my house, fucking everything that walked. Not me. I was Miss Squarepants, Head Bitch, holier-than-thou cheerleader who couldn’t be touched. Dyno called me a Force-Me Queen. If only I knew what that meant.
My football playing boyfriend was a brainless goon. My BFF coveted and loathed Dyno just as I did. Dyno’s only friend was the alcoholic Native American, Sequoia, the kid on the fast track to nowhere.
Seven years ago, the shit hit the fan. Dyno left, did a few tours as a SEAL, and came back different—decorated, mature. He thinks he’s tough enough to rejoin the circuit and become a bareback bronc champ again. He thinks he can break me, too. Well, he’s got another thing coming.
I don’t break easily.
Bad cowboy.
Go to my room.
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