Go on motherfucker. Test me.
The way he’s neglected his daughter. The pain he’s caused her. I’m ready to put a bullet in his head right now. Him staring at us like that is handing me the perfect excuse.
“Karina?” He nods at me. “Dante?”
“You know each other?” she asks me.
“Yeah, I’ve known Tucker a while now. How you been?” I ask real casual to see how he wants this to go down.
Tucker’s gaze shoots to Romeo then back to Karina.
“What’re you two doing together?”
“Um, Dante and I are together. It’s his house I moved into. I tried calling you.”
Tucker’s guilty gaze swings back to Romeo who finally has something to say. “Yeah, motherfucker. Looks like you owe me a daughter.”
“Looks like you owe me a daughter.”
What the hell? My head’s spinning. My dad knows Dante and Romeo. So Logan wasn’t lying after all.
“Since this one’s with my Sergeant-at-arms, looks like it’s gonna be the other one.”
What the fuck?
“I don’t have any sisters,” I say.
Dante’s arm tightens around my shoulders. Romeo glances at me, then back at my father. His mouth curls into a fierce smile. He shakes his head. “Tucker, you been keepin’ big family secrets?”
“Dad? What’s he talking about? I don’t have a sister.” And I still haven’t forgotten that whole “owe him a daughter” comment.
“Karina, I was going to explain—”
“Explain what? What’s he talking about?”
“I—”
“He’s got a whole ‘nother family up north,” Romeo finishes for my dad.
“Is that true?”
My father finally looks me in the eye. “Yes.”
Wow, so I found out after Asunder that readers really do not like cliffhangers. Here I’d been worried the Daddy Dom/baby girl relationship would be the issue.
If you hung in there and returned for this second installment, thank you. The third book, Entwined will follow, probably in November. The fourth book, is tentatively called Unhinged and will probably be early 2016.
So about that Daddy/baby girl thing. I was as surprised as anyone when Karina blurted it out in the shower in Asunder. I thought you bitch, because I’ve always been icked out when I read a story with that in it and I know it’s a big NO for a lot of readers. But I hesitated to change it because that’s what the characters demanded.
Here’s the thing. I went to a BDSM 101 type workshop last year. The presenters were in a DD/lg (Daddy Dom/little girl) relationship. At first my reaction was very similar to many of you “ew”. They were both adults, she a business woman in her thirties, he…well a BDSM instructor. Somehow when they explained their dynamic and what it meant to them, it wasn’t “ew” any more. It was fucking HOT. And beautiful.
Obviously their story sunk into my subconscious and decided to come out while writing Asunder. I can only hope my words captured the dynamic honestly without fetishizing or making light of it.
Although, I do realize for some people Karina’s age was a big part of the ick factor. But if you haven’t noticed, I revel in the “so wrong it’s right” sort of romance.
Thanks for reading and I hope you’ll return.
Nyx
Hot Tree Editing for another fabulous editing experience. You ladies rock.
My Beta Readers: Alison, Amber, Kim and Melony, thank you for sticking with me! Rosarita, thanks for hopping on board at the last minute!
My girls in the Iron Bulls MC Clubhouse. Thanks so much for your encouragement and loving the deviant little things I post!
Anyone who took time to write to me, or find me on facebook to tell me you loved Asunder, it means the world to me.
Entwined
Coming Fall 2015
Being in the same clubhouse that I’ve had some raunchy and sometimes public sex usually turns me on. Not today.
After the president of the Iron Bulls MC so casually informed me that my father has another family, we all went back to the clubhouse to “chat”. So now I’m seated at a table—not the official table where the club has church—with my boyfriend, Dante, Romeo, and my father. Uncomfortable doesn’t begin to cover this scenario.
Dante’s been making murderous faces at my father since before the bombshell announcement. He hates my father for different reasons.
My father nods at Dante. “Karina, how do you know each other?”
Before I open my mouth to answer, Dante places his hand on my knee and leans forward. “Better question is what the fuck kind of father leaves his daughter alone to fend for herself for so long you piece of shit.”
If you enjoy your MC Romances a bit more romantic but full of foul-mouthed alpha bikers, here’s an excerpt from the Lost Kings MC series by Autumn Jones Lake.
I had her first.
Eight years ago, the Lost Kings, MC was recovering from turmoil within the club Wrath and Trinity met.
I fell in love with her.
After three perfect nights, Wrath knew she was the one. But Trinity’s dark past was about to catch up to her and the Lost Kings MC was her only hope for protection.
Then we fucked everything up.
One misunderstanding led to a mistake that locked both of them into a war to see who could hurt who the most.
We’ve wasted too many years. It’s time for Trinity to understand—she’s mine.
When long-buried secrets are finally revealed, Wrath will stop at nothing to fix things and make Trinity understand she belongs to him.
TATTERED ON MY SLEEVE (Lost Kings #4)
Autumn Jones Lake
Digital Edition ISBN: 978-0-9907945-6-1
Copyright 2015 © Autumn Jones Lake
All rights reserved.
Edited by: Vanessa Bridges, PREMA
Cover Design: AJ Lake
Cover Photo: Andrey Vishnyakov
Formatting by: Max Effect
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Publisher’s Notes:
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The author recognizes the trademarks and copyrights of all registered products and works mentioned within this work.
Neither the publisher nor the author endorse or condone any actions carried out by any fictional character in this work or any other.
Eight years ago…
A zap of electricity shot through me when the blonde beauty behind the bar turned her head my way. How the hell was this chick planning to keep the peace at the Blue Fox Tavern?
As long as we all behaved, the bar allowed everyone to wear their MC’s colors. But it was still a biker bar. If things got out of hand, I didn’t have much confidence the little cutie would be able to do much. Girl was gonna get hurt.
Once I got over the shock of seeing the new bartender, I slipped my don’t-give-a-fuck face back on. My brothers, Rock and Zero, were right behind me. Brothers by choice. As in we belonged to the same MC. But to me, the bond we shared flowed deeper than any blood relation.
The three of us sat at the bar. The sweet, bubbly demeanor the girl approached us with was completely out of place in the seedy hangout. The way her eyes roamed over us, assessing the level of danger we posed, made me rethink my first impression.
“Hey, guys. What can I get you?”
Her gaze skipped to our cuts and zeroed in on each of our patches. She looked me over last, and holy fuck, when our eyes met, my dick perked right up. For just a second, the hard, calculating gleam in her eyes softened into something vulnerable.
The moment passed, and she swung her gaze back to Rock, whose patch read President.
“Scotch neat, please, sweetheart,” he answered. His eyes were busy assessing her as well, but I didn’t get the feeling he wanted to take her in the back room and fuck her like he did w
ith just about every other chick he met.
As the vice president, she took Z’s order next. Finally, she returned to me.
“Sergeant-at-arms, huh? The Wrecking Ball.”
A slow grin spread across my face. I liked her. “I’ve been called worse.”
“I’m sure you have. What would you like?”
I wanted her, spread out on the bar in front of me. “Jack Daniels, neat,” I answered.
The three of us were silent while we watched her work. Slapping the drinks down with a tired smile, she glanced at the clock. She turned back to us and cocked her head, checking out our officer patches again.
“You have a shakeup in leadership? Your patches are so squeaky clean,” she teased in a husky voice.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Rock asked.
A short, excessively curvy brunette jiggled into the space behind the bar and yelped, “Trinity! I’m so sorry I’m late!”
The loud chick had herself stuffed into some sort of hot-pink tube top thing that didn’t flatter her as much as she probably thought.
“It’s okay, Storm,” the blonde answered, even though her expression said otherwise.
Storm? Aw, fuck.
As if she heard my thought, Storm turned her big, brown, doe-eyed gaze our way and shrieked.
“Oh, Trinity! These are the guys I was telling you about.” She yanked the blonde over to us by the elbow. Her hungry gaze zeroed in on Z right away, which was unfortunate for her because he was strictly hit-it-and-quit-it.
The few times we’d met her, Rock and I had picked up a definite undercurrent of desperation with this broad. Even though we let her party at our clubhouse, we’d both been smart enough to steer clear of her bear-trap pussy.
Trinity seemed less than impressed. I wondered what sort of stories Storm had been spinning about us.
“Can I stop by after work, guys?” Storm asked.
Rock answered quick. “No. There’ll be a full house tomorrow. Stop by then, hon.”
Her face fell, then brightened at the invitation. I glanced down the bar at Z, who looked ready to choke our prez. I couldn’t wait to give him shit later.
I finished my drink and got up to take a walk around the place. Rock’s meeting was with a crew we hadn’t established a lot of trust with yet. My job was to check things out before they got here. Keep the place secure. Make sure nothing happened to my president.
Back corner booth. That was where the meeting needed to go down. As I pulled a chair over, a breathy voice behind me called out, “Hold on. I haven’t cleaned that yet.”
Trinity rushed over with a rag and wiped the most recent stickiness from the tabletop. I’m only human, so while she was busy cleaning, I checked out her pleasantly round ass. My fingers flexed as I imagined how perfectly her cheeks would fit my hands. For a biker chick, she was awfully conservative. I spotted what looked like two tank tops. Black on top, bright pink underneath. No thong or tramp stamp peeking out when she bent over—I think I liked that part most.
She finished and spun around. Too bad my eyes were slow to react. She definitely caught me checking out her ass. I wasn’t ashamed, though, because shame’s never been an emotion I wasted my time on. Besides, now my gaze was fixed on something even more exciting—her tits all pushed up and spilling out of her shirt.
It was difficult, but I looked up into her honey-colored eyes. How had I missed that color before? Or was it just the strange amber lighting we were standing under in the otherwise dark corner? “Is Trinity a road name or your legal one?”
“Real. My mother had me during her Catholic phase.”
I snorted a laugh. “How’s that working out for you?”
“Well, I’m tending bar at a biker hangout, so what do you think?”
“I think things worked out well. For me, anyway.”
Yeah, that one was lame. But it got a genuine smile out of her, which had been my goal.
“So, Wrecking Ball, I don’t know your name.”
“Wrath.”
She fake-shivered and made a brrrr sound with her sexy-as-fuck lips. “Scary. Are you an angry fellow?”
Man, I liked this girl. She didn’t say a lot, but when she spoke, she was a flirty little bitch. She clearly put up walls to keep guys like me at arm’s length, and that made me want her even more.
“Not tonight. You got an ol’ man?”
She scrunched up her nose. “Fuck no.” Then she looked me straight in the eyes, practically daring me. “And I’m not looking for one either.”
Wrath. His name should have been lust, because that was the deadly sin burning through me when I looked up—way up—into his ocean-blue eyes. I should’ve gotten the fuck out of there. My shift was up. Storm finally had her annoying ass slinging drinks. But curiosity chained me to the bar.
I should’ve despised bikers. I should’ve most definitely steered clear of this one, with his thick, muscled arms and low, sensual voice.
My normally impeccable self-preservation instinct seemed to be on the fritz.
“Well, that’s good to hear. I’m not looking for an ol’ lady.”
“I’m not looking for a hookup either. If you don’t mind, my shift is over.”
Actually, I wouldn’t mind a hook-up with all three of them. Maybe not the president; there was something about him that triggered a warm, brotherly memory. Which was weird because I was an only child. But the other two, yeah, I would definitely be down to—
“Trinity!” Storm yelped from behind the bar.
“Christ.”
I forgot about the Wrecking Ball and stomped over to the bar.
“What?”
“I cut my hand, really bad.”
As I rounded the corner, her bloody hand came into view, and I swallowed back a tidal wave of barf.
“Ew, fuck!” I whipped around and headed for the back office. “I’ll go get Marky. He should probably run you to the ER.”
Marky took Storm to the hospital, and I got stuck behind the bar for the rest of the night. Wrath and his friends met with an even scarier group of thugs. But they didn’t cause any trouble and they ignored me, so I didn’t care.
“Trinity?”
I looked up to find the president staring at me.
“Have you heard from Storm? She okay?”
I shook my head. It was unlikely I’d hear from Storm or Marky. “Nothing yet.”
He nodded once and tipped his head to the side. “You hang with any local MCs?”
He was asking if I was club ass for one of his rivals. Surprisingly, I wasn’t offended. “No.”
“Oh, you just seemed familiar—”
“My dad was in the Silver Saints when I was a kid.”
Sympathy shone in his gray eyes. Clearly, he knew their rep. Fuck, why did I even tell him that? I usually kept that shit to myself.
“He still in?”
“He’s dead.”
He quirked an eyebrow at me as if he wanted me to continue, and for some strange reason, I did.
“He died in prison when I was ten.”
“Club take care of you and your mother?”
A shiver of revulsion rippled over me, and I closed my eyes for a second. Yeah, they’d taken care of us all right.
“Not really.”
He nodded as if he wasn’t surprised.
His VP called to him. He quickly scribbled on one of the napkins. “Here’s the address and number for our clubhouse. We’re working on moving into a bigger place, but this is it for now. Stop by tomorrow night if you want. At the door, tell them Rock invited you.”
“How many patched-in brothers you got, Rock?”
“Ten right now.”
“Small.”
“Yeah. Like you said—had a shakeup in leadership. Later, Trinity.”
I watched him walk away. Like fuck was I going to any club party. I didn’t care how “hot” or “nice” they were—according to Storm.
I looked at the address. Right next door to a strip club.
Big surprise there.
“You closing soon?” The Wrecking Ball was back.
“Yeah, thank fuck. My feet are killing me.”
He threw back his head and laughed, a deep, sexy, rumbling chuckle. Curling his hands over the side of the bar, he swung his upper body over to check out my shoes. “At least you’re wearing sneakers and not fuck-me pumps like Storm. Can I buy you a drink, Trinity?” he asked in a much more serious tone.
“I don’t drink on the job.”
He gave me a curt nod, and I took the trash into the back room. Marky could deal with it later. I wasn’t stepping foot in that alley by myself.
I’d waited an hour for Trinity to disappear long enough for me to hustle her straggling customers out the door. The three of us agreed we’d stay until closing since Trinity was all by herself. But the poor girl looked ready to drop, so the bar was closing early.
“Oh, did everyone leave?” Her soft voice pulled me away from my staring contest with a bottle of Jack Daniels. I pushed it away.
“Yup.”
“Even your guys?”
That bugged me for some reason. I’d seen her chatting with Rock earlier. “Yeah, why?”
She shrugged as if she’d only asked to be polite and didn’t really care one way or another.
“Anything else you need to do?”
“No, fuck it, I already worked way over my shift.”
I chuckled at that. She punched her time card and stood there watching me.
“Do you leave by the back door or something?”
She laughed. “No, nothing but a dark, dirty, scary alleyway.”
“Can I give you a lift home?”
Her gaze drifted to mine and a mischievous little gleam shone in her eyes. “Do you have your bike?”
“Of course.” What a ridiculous question.
“Sure, you can give me a ride.”
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