Meet Puck & Becca in SILVER BASTARD!
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Blurb
First in the new Silver
Valley series from the New York Times
bestselling author of the Reapers Motorcycle Club Novels.
Fourteen months. For
fourteen months, Puck Redhouse sat in a cell and kept his mouth shut,
protecting the Silver Bastards MC from their enemies. Then he was free and it
was time for his reward--full membership in the club, along with a party to
celebrate. That's when he saw Becca Jones for the first time and set everything
in motion. Before the night ended he'd violated his parole and stolen her away
from everything she knew.
Five years. It was five
years ago that Puck destroyed Becca and saved her all in one night. She's been
terrified of him ever since, but she's even more terrified of the monsters he
still protects her from... But Becca refuses to let fear control her. She's
living her life and moving forward, until she gets a phone call from the past
she can't ignore. She has to go back, and there's only one man she can trust to
go with her--the ex-con biker who rescued her once before.
Puck will help her again,
but this time it'll be on his terms. No more lies, no more tears, and no more
holding back what he really wants...
Excerpt
Ignoring him, I settled
back on my stool and surveyed the room. We sat in Becca’s section, and what I
saw wasn’t making me happy. I knew she was a good waitress, but she’d just
started here and it showed. Not only had she fucked up several orders, she didn’t
quite seem to get the rhythm of the bar. That wasn’t my problem, though.
My problem was that despite
these fuckups, nobody seemed to mind. I had a nasty suspicion this was due to
her perky tits, friendly smile, and tight little ass that seriously just needed
a bite taken right out of it.
She really, really needed
to get a new job—every man in the place wanted her. Including me. Especially
me. I hated them. All of them. I shifted uncomfortably, because just like every
time I shared a room with her, my pants had gotten tight.
Torture. Becca was just so
fucking fine on every level, and not just her looks. There was something about
the way she carried herself . . . I couldn’t put my finger on it. Like she was
dancing through life to some song nobody else could hear. Never met another
woman like her—she wasn’t just sexy, she was a survivor and I admired that.
She’d grown up so much
since the first time I’d met her. Bigger boobs, a nice fullness to her ass that
was nowhere close to fat but would be perfect to hold tight while I fucked her.
Her lips had plumped, too, and over the years she’d gained a sparkle in her
eyes that turned her from pretty to 100 percent spectacular.
Not to mention how she’d
tasted.
Nearly blew in my pants
when I’d taken that mouth. Just the memory got me hard. Make that harder.
Fucking basket case.
When I’d pulled up to find
her sitting outside with Collins, a thousand murder scenarios ran through my
mind. And yeah, I know I covered that already, but if anything ever deserved
empha- sis, this was it. Collins needed to die.
I didn’t care how nice he was. After that I’d throw Becca on the back of my
bike and make a run for the hills . . .
Okay, so there were a few
problems with the plan, the top one being she hated me. Or she should—I’d
certainly given her cause. Boonie nudged me.
“Did I mention you’re
pathetic? You want her, take her. Other- wise let it go because you’re an
embarrassment to all men in general and to the Silver Bastards in particular.”
About the
Author:
Joanna Wylde is a New York Times
bestselling author and creator of the Reapers Motorcycle Club series. She
currently lives in Idaho.
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Signed
Paperback of Silver Bastard (3 copies)
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