Kings rule men. Queens rule kings.
Wyatt Strand is a hard man. He has hard features, speaks with harsh words, and has a hardened heart. Having served the Forsaken Motorcycle Club as Vice President, Wyatt is used to taking responsibility for his brothers, but when he’s handed the gavel everything changes. His brothers are now his men and the threat from the Italian mafia still looms in the distance. A president needs focus, but that’s nearly impossible when his old lady blows back into town and drops two very large bombshells on him.
Amber Wallace is a tough woman, but an even fiercer mother. She once told a lie to protect her unborn child that tore her away from the man she loves. And now, years later, she’s coming home to make amends. Wyatt’s changed, but the club hasn’t. Women are to be obedient. Unfortunately for Forsaken, Amber’s not about to let a few rules stop her from living the life she always imagined.
The Forsaken Motorcycle Club started a war with the Italian mafia and they’ve paid dearly for that choice. With a new president at the helm, the wheels are finally in motion to take down Mancuso once and for all. Even if it means taking the fight back to where it began.
Love is never more beautiful than when it consumes you.
“Ran out on me,” he says. His voice makes it sound like he’s thirsty, so gravely and rough. “Last time you ran out on me you were eight months pregnant with our fuckin’ son. Don’t like seeing you leave me.”
“We need to talk,” I say quickly before he can reach me.
“You need to quit fucking leaving me.”
“Quit giving me reason to!” That’s not totally fair. It’s not exactly his fault that the Italian guys showed up when they did. It’s not one hundred percent his fault that Rig targeted Zander. But it doesn’t exactly matter, either. Ever since Rig, I’ve been on edge and my moods are fluctuating like crazy. I don’t like these feelings. Adding Wyatt to the mix turns my crazy into straight-up insanity.
Wyatt storms toward me, grabs me around the waist and pulls me against him. He tips my face up towards his. And all his gentle turns into something else entirely in the blink of an eye.
“Knock it the fuck off!” He screams in my face, so loud, but I barely hear the words.
The ball in my throat hardens and I’m forced to swallow it. My hands shake with an anger that I don’t expect. I don’t know why I’m so mad right now, but I am. Nervous, sure. Anxious, yeah. But mad? That one confuses me. I don’t dwell on it though, because the frustration becomes too much to swallow. I push him off me, angry and annoyed. I suck in an unsteady breath as we stare each other down. He huffs. My eyes fall to his lips and they stay there. It’s magnetic—the pull his lips have over me. Every time I look at them, I’m either desperate to touch them or I remember every vile word that he’s ever said to me. If I’m being honest with myself, even then, in those moments of remembrance, I still want them on me. Nothing ever changes that. I hate admitting that, even to myself, though.
I pull my gaze from his lips to find his eyes are on my mouth now. His tongue pokes out, drags over his rough lips. I could fall into this. I could let this happen so easily, but then we’ll end up right back where we started.
“You can’t kiss me. You’re going to hate me soon, so please don’t kiss me.”
About the author:
As a child, JC was fascinated by things that went bump in the night. As they say, some things never change. Now, as an adult, she divides her time between the sexy law men, mythical creatures, and kick-ass heroines that live inside her head and pursuing her bachelor's degree in English. JC is a San Francisco Bay Area native, but has also called both Texas and Louisiana home. These days she rocks her flip flops year round in Northern California and can't imagine a climate more beautiful.
JC writes adult, new adult, and young adult fiction. She dabbles in many different genres including science fiction, horror, chick lit, and murder mysteries, yet she is most enthralled by supernatural stories-- and everything has at least a splash of romance.
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