Review: Patchwhore by Kim Jones

patchwhore-reviewPATCHWHORE
Series: Devil’s Renegade MC #2
Genre: Erotic Romance
Author: Kim Jones
Release Date: October 10, 2016add-to-goodreads-button-2

patchwhore-for-web

I’M THAT GIRL…

The girl who thought she was living her happily ever after.
The one who fell for the lies.
A victim of infidelity.

After months of heartache and loss, anger ensued.
Rage replaced sadness. Fury took over heartache. Revenge became irresistible.
Now he’ll feel what I felt. One by one, his brothers will take his place in my bed.
They have a name for me in the MC world…

PATCHWHORE.

And this is my story.

If making her ex jealous is what she wants, Devil’s Renegades Prospect Cook is more than willing to oblige.
He only has one rule: He doesn’t share.

She can seek her revenge. Follow through with her plan.
But her body will be his. He’ll own her fantasies. And her pleasure.
But in her eyes, he’s just a lowly PROSPECT—nothing more.
Little does she know, she’s about to be enlightened.

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Review-DGR3.5 stars

The best way to get over one man is to get under another.”

Well…that was smuttertaining. Smutty and entertaining. Totally coining that phrase.

If you haven’t read Clubwhore, I’m totally judging you right now. Seriously. You need to get on that. I seriously loved that book. But then again, I love any heroine that goes against the grain and the norm of the typical cookie cutter romance. But if you haven’t read it yet (I’m still judging you), no worries, because Patchwhore, while being part of the series is still a full standalone.

Carmen is a woman scorned. After finding out her boyfriend not only cheated on her but also left her for her sorority sister, she’s out for revenge. When she finds that he’s a now a patch holder at the local MC she decides the best revenge is to sleep with a brother of his…or all of them to really drive her point home. But then Mr. Delicious comes along and all her plans go up in flames just like her ovaries did.

Mr. Delicicous aka Cook aka a lowly prospect is everything she shouldn’t want. But everything about the man totally gets to her…and gets her off. She’s determined to follow through with her plan, and Cook is determined for another taste of her. Suffice it to say things get real interesting.

This was a super quick and highly entertaining read. Even though Carmen acted like a bitch in heat for a large chunk of the book I still loved her. She was entertaining to say the least. Cook was as fitting to her nickname for him as it gets. DELICIOUS. The man is hot as all hell and a dirty talker to boot. So why not rate higher? Well, I supposed it was just too much sex at times. As much as I loved Cook and Carmen together, I would have loved more development for them aside from all of the sex they were having. God. I can’t even believe I’m complaining about this right now. I feel like I should get my pervert card taken away. But it is what it is.

If you’re looking for a dirty and smutty romance, this will pertainly hit the spot. Is it your typical MC romance, not quite. It’s more of a MC romp. But this girl does love her romps, so I can’t complain much. *pervy grin*


Read my review for book 1, CLUBWHORE

Review: Reaper’s Fire by Joanna Wylde

Reaper's Fire-ReviewREAPER’S FIRE
Series: Reapers MC #6
Genre: Erotic Romance, MC
Author: Joanna Wylde
Release Date: August 9, 2016add-to-goodreads-button-2

Reaper's Fire

It’s time for more men and motorcycles in the latest from the New York Times bestselling author of Reaper’s Fall

The club comes first.

I’ve lived by those words my whole life—assumed I’d die by them, too, and I never had a problem with that. My Reaper brothers took my back and I took theirs and it was enough. Then I met her. Tinker Garrett. She’s beautiful, she’s loyal, and she works so damned hard it scares me sometimes . . . She deserves a good man—one better than me. I can’t take her yet because the club still needs me. There’s another woman, another job, another fight just ahead.

Now she’ll learn I’ve been lying to her all along. None of it’s real. Not my name, not my job, not even the clothes I wear. She thinks I’m nice. She pretends we’re just friends, that I’ve still got a soul . . . Mine’s been dead for years. Now I’m on fire for this woman, and a man can only burn for so long before he destroys everything around him.

I’m coming for you, Tinker.

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AMAZON | iBOOKSReview-DGR3 starsReaper's Fire-DGR teaser

Yup. I was woman enough to own it. Tinker Garrett, aged thirty-six, was in lust with Cooper Romero. The man was so damed easy on the eyes that it caused me physical pain. Okay, not pain. Warm tinglies.

I’ve been eagerly anticipating Gage’s book ever since the little snippet I read in Reaper’s Fall. Add into the mix the interconnected story happening in Silver Bastard and I was utterly salivating for this book. I was hooked from the very first chapter! I knew from the very begging that I’d absolutely love Gage and I wasn’t wrong. After years of managing the Reaper’s strip club, the man that’s used to sleeping with a different woman every night gets to hook up with the one he actually doesn’t want…while lusting after the one he truly craves but can’t have. Sound intriguing? Because it totally was!

Sent in to investigate an MC the Reapers suspect of stealing from them, his best in is the president’s trashy sister. Unfortunately for him, it’s also the same time he meets the one woman that tempts him to leave his womanizing ways behind. Too bad he can’t have her since his job and brotherhood come first.

I loved the first 30% of the story, but then somewhere around the 40% mark, I began to get…aggravated. While I don’t mind a bit of angst between the hero and heroine and even more slow burn in their relationship, having the hero spend over half the book sleeping with another woman was a bit much. It began to take away from the story for me because after the 40% mark I got tired of reading about it. I almost wished it was handled off the pages for parts because Talia drove me batty.

Tinker was a fabulous heroine. She had a bit of sassy and a bit of quirky that really worked for her. I really connected with her from the very beginning and watching her trying to fight her attraction to Gage was definitely highly entertaining.

All things considered, this still would have been a solid 4 star read for me…until the end. After all the build up with everything, nothing felt resolved. Things that truly needed page time and should have been fleshed out more, were handled off the pages. I felt I got no resolution to some of my biggest questions. There was a lot of build up with Tinker and her ex, and then…nothing. The author mentions at the end why she chose to deviate from the timeline, and I sincerely respect her choice. However, I felt that it could have gone a different direction while in that timeline. It read like it was almost two different plot points that were tied together, but not really. There was a lot of focus on the fire at the end, but none of it really led anywhere, particularly for the plot. It didn’t drive the plot. At least not for me. A lot of the action happened off the pages. I wanted certain parts to be fleshed out more. Certain parts I wished were merely addressed or resolved, but they weren’t. Not really. It was like chunks of story that loosely connected together.

I’ve loved every single book in this series and I adore all things Joanna Wylde, but I have to admit I wished more from the ending here. The epilogue was amazing and even managed to bring a tear to my eye. But once more, I just didn’t feel like it fit the series. The whole book just had an entirely different vibe from the rest of the series for me. This can easily be a case of wrong expectations on my behalf. I still enjoyed the story for the most part, just left a little underwhelmed with the ultimate resolution of it. Fans of this series will likely enjoy the newest additions to the Reapers MC. I for one am really looking forward to more from the Silver Bastards now.


THE REAPERS MC SERIES

Reaper’s Property 
Purchase | Read My Review

Reaper’s Legacy
Purchase | Read My Review

Devil’s Game
Purchase | Read My Review

Reaper’s Stand
Purchase | Read My Review

Reaper’s Fall
Purchase | Read My Review

Review: Sinner’s Revenge by Kim Jones

Sinner's Revenge- reviewSINNER’S REVENGE
Series: Sinner’s Creed #2
Genre: Erotic Romance, MC
Author: Kim Jones
Release Date: July 19, 2016add-to-goodreads-button-2

sinners-revenge-2

The sizzling second book featuring the Sinner’s Creed Motorcycle Club, bikers bent on riding chrome and meting out mayhem…

Shady has spent the last eight years of his life dedicated to the Sinner’s Creed Motorcycle Club. But after losing the man who was both his brother and his best friend, he has a new purpose—to avenge the death of the greatest nomad in Sinner’s Creed history.

His plan is flawless. His mission is simple: seek and destroy. There is no room for distractions—especially a distraction like Diem.

She’s infuriating. Demanding. Complicated. Impossible. And for some reason, Shady can’t stay away. But he only has space in his heart for one love: Sinner’s Creed. And the club always comes first. Always.

Buy LinksAMAZON | iBOOKS Review-DGR4 starsSinner's Revenge-DGR teaser

Inside, I’m screaming in agony. But no one can hear me. My eyes are filled with sorrow and loss. But no one can see it. My chest aches with a thousand flames from the fiery sea of hell. But no one can feel it. No one but me. Shady. The man who was born with nothing, lost everything he’d gained, and has something he doesn’t deserve. Life.

I went through the emotional wringer back when I read Sinner’s Creed. It equal parts gutted me and left me yearning for more. I remember bawling like a baby at the end and thinking how tragically beautiful the ending was. And I also remember practically salivating to get my hands on Shady’s book. The death of his best friend and brother left Shady reeling. The only thing that burns in his veins is his need for revenge. He won’t rest until those responsible for the death pay for it in blood…rivers of it.

My anger is fueled by all that’s been lost. Fury blazes in my eyes. Rage consumes me. Revenge is my only thought. Killing is my ultimate goal. Death is the only justice.

Shady is as calculating as he is lethal, and his plan for revenge is thoroughly planned out. It’s what he sleeps, eats, and breathes. Nothing can distract him from his ultimate goal until a woman that’s as crazy as she is beautiful demands his attention in a way that he can’t ignore.

Diem, for lack of a better term, is batshit. *shrugs* No really. There’s something seriously wrong with this chick and it was equal parts entertaining and infuriating. There were times where she’d do something that left me reeling and scratching my head. I mean, the woman shows up randomly where he’s at, steals his truck, and basically moves into his house without so much as an invitation. But there’s always something to her. Something that’s just below the surface that constantly has you questioning if everything is as it seems…

He’s under my skin. He’s in my head. He gives me everything I never knew I wanted and then some. If I thought I was falling before, I’m sure of it now.

This was so much more beyond an MC romance. It’s the story of brotherhood and a bond that reaches beyond death. Shady’s unwavering loyalty to his MC and his love for his brother was evident in every page. I loved his connection to his fallen brother even if it was heartbreaking knowing what he’s going through. His inner turmoil was palpable.

I also loved that while there’s clearly sexual chemistry between Shady and Diem right away, it was almost a reluctant relationship. Both of them know they’re chaotic together and yet they can’t keep away from each other.

We’re scarring each other.
Hurting each other.
Torturing each other.
And it’s never felt so fucking good.

Admittedly, my one struggle throughout the book was Diem. I had a really tough time connecting with her character. She was just all over the place with her mood swings. She’s a tough bitch, but at times it was almost too much so. I felt like I needed a valium every time I’d read another one of her tantrums. In parts it was entertaining, and in other parts it was just draining. There was one part in the first half that I thought could go somewhere, especially after the big revelation, but didn’t.

Click to view spoiler

Kim Jones delivers one heck of a gritty tale with Sinner’s Revenge. Her writing seems to get better and better with each new book and I’m definitely a huge fan. No one delivers an MC book quite like her and this book is further proof of that.

There’s so much that happens here that I found myself practically incapable to put down my kindle until I finished. There are twists at every turn, some so completely mind blowing that it left my head reeling. And while I struggled with the first half with Diem, I devoured the second half with fervor. I highly recommend that you read Sinner’s Creed first in order to truly appreciate everything that happens with the story. But mostly, I recommend it so you truly appreciate the epilogue. Damn if the author didn’t get the waterworks from me yet again. I adored the epilogue here. It should have been slightly cheesy but it wasn’t at all. It was beautiful and touching and gave me that final sense of completion that I didn’t even know I was missing after the first book. Perfection.

Gritty, violent, dark, and brutal on the one hand, and full of emotion, brotherhood, and love on the other. This book was the perfect balance of all of those and more! I loved all of the secondary characters, I loved the intensity and I absolutely loved the ending.


DON’T MISS THE BOOK THAT STARTED IT ALL!

SINNER’S CREED (Sinner’s Creed #1)Sinner's CreedGOODREADS | AMAZON | MY REVIEW

Review: ★Ruin & Rule★ by @PepperWinters

ruin & rule book tour

Title: Ruin & Rule
Author: Pepper Winters
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: July 7, 2015
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“We met in a nightmare. The in-between world where time had no power over reason. We fell in love. We fell hard. But then we woke up. And it was over . . .”

RUIN & RULE

She is a woman divided. Her past, present, and future are as twisted as the lies she’s lived for the past eight years. Desperate to get the truth, she must turn to the one man who may also be her greatest enemy . . .

He is the president of Pure Corruption MC. A heartless biker and retribution-deliverer. He accepts no rules, obeys no one, and lives only to reap revenge on those who wronged him. And now he has stolen her, body and soul.

Can a woman plagued by mystery fall in love with the man who refuses to face the truth? And can a man drenched in darkness forgo his quest for vengeance-and finally find redemption?

“Ruin & Rule is a full-length book at 436 pages and ends on a cliffhanger. Cleo and Kill’s story continues in SIN & SUFFER.”

Buy Links

Amazon / iBooks / B&N / Kobo / Google Play

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Excerpt

Prologue
We met in a nightmare.The in-between world where time had no power over rhyme, reason, or connection. We met. We stared. We knew.There was no distortion from the outside world. No right or wrong. No confusion or battles from hearts and minds.Just us. In our silent dreamworld.That nightmare became our home. Planting ghosts, raising fantasies. Entwined together in our happily skewed reality.

We fell in love. We fell hard.

In those fleeting seconds of our nightmare, we lived an eternity.

But then we woke up.

And it was over.

Chapter One

I always believed life would grant rewards to those most worthy. I was fucking naïve. Life doesn’t reward—it ruins. It ruins those most deserving and takes everything. It takes everything all while watching any remaining goodness rot to hate.

—Kill

[ORN_SB]

Darkness.

That was my world now. Literally and physically.

The back of my skull hurt from being knocked unconscious. My wrists and shoulders ached from lying on my back with my hands tied behind me.

Nothing was broken—at least it didn’t feel that way—but everything was bruised. The fuzziness receded wisp by wisp, parting the clouds of sleep, trying to shed light on what’d happened. But there was no light. My eyes blinked at the endless darkness from the mask tied around my head. Anxiety twisted my stomach at having such a fundamental gift taken away.

I didn’t move, but mentally catalogued my body from the tips of my toes to the last strand of hair on my head. My jaw and tongue ached from the foul rag stuffed in my mouth and my nose permitted a shallow stream of oxygen to enter—just enough to keep me alive.

Fear tried to claw its way through my mind, but I shoved it away. I deliberately suppressed panic in order to assess my predicament rather than lose myself to terror.

Fear never helps, only hinders.

My senses came back, creeping tentatively, as if afraid whoever had stolen me would notice their return.

Sound: the squeak of brakes, the creak of a vehicle settling from motion to stopping.

Touch: the skin on my right forearm stung, throbbing with a mixture of soreness and sharpness. A burn perhaps?

Smell: dank rotting vegetables and the astringent, pungent scent of fear—but it wasn’t mine. It was theirs.

It wasn’t just me being kidnapped.

My heart flurried, drinking in their terror. It made my breath quicken and legs itch to run. Forcing myself to ignore the outside world, I focused inward. Clutching my inner strength where calmness was a need rather than a luxury.

I refused to lose myself in a fog of tears. Desperation was a curse and I wouldn’t succumb, because I had every intention of being prepared for what might happen next.

I hated the sniffles and stifled sobs of others around me. Their bleak sadness tugged at my heartstrings, making me fight with my own preservation, replacing it with concern for theirs.

Get through this, then worry about them.

I didn’t think this was a simple opportunistic snatch. Whoever had stolen me planned it. The hunch grew stronger as I searched inside for any liquor remnants or the smell of cigarettes.

Had I been at a party? Nightclub?

Nothing.

I hadn’t been stupid or reckless. I think…

No hint or clue as to where I’d been or what I’d been doing when they’d come for me.

I wriggled, trying to move away from the stench. My bound wrists protested, stinging as the rope around them gnawed into my flesh like twine-beasts. My ribs bellowed, along with my head. There was no give in my restraints. I stopped trying to move, preserving my energy.

I tried to swallow.

No saliva.

I tried to speak.

No voice.

I tried to remember what happened.

I tried to remember…

Panic.

Nothing.

I can’t remember.

“Get up, bitch,” a man said. Something jabbed me in the ribs. “Won’t tell you again. Get.”

I froze as my mind hurtled me from present to past.

I’ll miss you so much,” she wailed, hugging me tighter.

“I’m not dying, you know.” I tried to untangle myself, looking over my shoulder at the final call flashing for my flight. I hated being late for anything. Let alone my one chance at escaping and finding out the truth once and for all.

“Call me the moment you get there.”

“Promise.” I drew a cross over my heart—

The memory shattered as my horizontal body suddenly went vertical in one swoop.

Who was that girl? Why did I have no memory of it ever happening?

“I said get up, bitch.” The man breathed hard in my ear, sending a waft of reeking breath over me. The blindfold stole my sight, but it left my nose woefully unprotected.

Unfortunately.

My captor shoved me forward. The ground was steady beneath my feet. The sickness plaiting with my confusion faded, leaving me cold.

My legs stumbled in the direction he wanted me to go. I hated shuffling in the darkness, not knowing where I came from or where I was being herded. There were no sounds of comfort or smothered snickers. This wasn’t a masquerade.

This was real.

This is real.

My heart thudded harder, fear slipping through my defenses. But full-blown terror remained elusive. Slippery like a silver fish, darting on the outskirts of my mind. It was there but fleeting, keeping me clear-headed and strong.

I was grateful for that. Grateful that I maintained what dignity I had left—remaining strong even in the face of the unknown terrors lurking on the other side of my blindfold.

Moans and whimpers of other women grew in decibels as men ordered them to follow the same path I walked. Either death row or salvation, I had no choice but to inch my way forward, leaving my forgotten past behind.

I willed snippets to come back. I begged the puzzlement of my past to slot into place, so I could make sense of this horrible world I’d awoken in.

But my mind was locked to me. A fortress withholding everything I wished to know.

The pushing stopped. So did I.

Big mistake.

“Move.” A cuff to the back of my head sent me wheeling forward. I didn’t stop again. My bare feet traversed…wood?

Bare feet?

Where are my shoes?

The missing knowledge twisted my stomach.

Where did I come from?

How did I end up here?

What’s my name?

It wasn’t the terror of the unknown future that stole my false calmness. It was the fear of losing my very self. They’d stolen everything. My triumphs, my trespasses, my accomplishments and failures.

How could I deal with this new world if I didn’t know what skills I had to stay alive? How could I hope to defeat my enemy when my mind revolted and locked me out?

Who am I?

To have who I was deleted…It was unthinkable.

“Faster, bitch.” Something cold wedged against my spine, pushing me onward. With my hands behind my back, I shuffled faster, negotiating the ground as best I could for dips or trips.

“Step down.” The man grabbed my bound wrists, giving me something to lean against as my toes navigated the small steps before me.

“Again.”

I obeyed.

“Last one.”

I managed the small staircase without falling flat on my face.

My face.

What do I look like?

A loud scraping noise sounded before me. I shied back, bumping against a feminine form. The woman behind me cried out—the first verbal sound of another.

“Move.” The pressure on my lower back came again, and I obeyed. Inching forward until the stuffy air of old vegetables and must was replaced by…copper and metallic…blood?

Why…why is that so familiar?

I gasped as my mind free-fell into another memory.

“I don’t think I can do this.” I darted away, throwing up in the rubbish bin in the classroom. The unique stench of blood curdled my stomach.

“Don’t overthink it. It’s not what you’re doing to the animal to make it bleed. It’s what you’re doing to make it live.” My professor shook his head, waiting for me to swill out my mouth and return white-faced and queasy to the operation in progress.

My heart splintered like a broken piece of glass, reflecting the compassion and responsibility I felt for such an innocent creature. This little puppy that’d been dumped in a plastic bag to die after being shot with BB gun pellets. He’d survive only if I mastered the skills to stem his internal bleeding and embrace the vocation I was called to do.

Inhaling the scent of blood, I let it invade my nostrils, scald my throat, and impregnate my soul. I drank its coppery essence. I drenched myself in the smell of the creature’s life force until it no longer affected me.

Picking up a scalpel, I said, “I’m ready—”

“Holy fuck!” The man guiding me forward suddenly whacked the base of my spine. The hard pain shoved me forward and I tripped.

“Wire—get me fucking reinforcements. He’s started a motherfucking war!”

Wind and body motion swarmed me as men charged from behind. The darkness I lived in suddenly came alive with sound.

Bullets flew, impaling themselves into the metal sides of the vehicle I’d just stepped from. Pings and ricochets echoed in my ear. Curses bellowed; moans of pain threaded like a breeze.

Someone grabbed my arm, swinging me to the side. “Get down!” The inertia of his throw knocked me off balance. With my wrists bound together, I had nothing to grab with, no way to protect myself from falling.

I fell.

My stomach swooped as tumbled off a small platform and smashed against the ground.

Dirt, damp grass, and moldy leaves replaced the stench of blood, cutting through the cloying sharpness of spilled metallic. My mouth opened, gasping in pain. Blades of grass tickled my lips as my cheek stuck to wet mud.

My shoulder screamed with agony, but I ignored the new injury. My mind clung to the unlocked memory. The fleeting recollection of my profession.

I’m a vet.

The sense of homecoming and security that one little snippet brought was priceless. My soul snarled for more, suddenly ravenous for missing information.

I skipped straight from fumbling uncertainty into starvation for more.

Tell me! Show me. Who am I?

I searched inside for more clues. But it was like trying to grab on to an elusive dream, fading faster and faster the harder I chased.

I couldn’t remember anything about medicine or how to heal. All I knew was I’d been trained to embrace the scent of blood. I wasn’t afraid of it. I didn’t faint or suffer sickness at the sight of it pouring from an open wound.

That tiniest knowledge was enough to settle my prickling nerves and focus on the outside world again.

Battle cries. Men screaming. Men growling. The dense thuds of fists on flesh and the horrible deflection of gunshots.

I couldn’t understand. Had I fallen through time and entered an alternate dimension?

Another body landed on top of mine.

I cried out, winded from a sharp poke of an elbow to my ribs.

The figure rolled away, crying softly. Feminine.

Why aren’t I crying?

I once again searched for fear. It wasn’t natural not to be afraid. I’d woken up alone, stolen, and thrown into the middle of a war, yet I wasn’t hyperventilating or panicked.

My calmness was like a drug, oozing over me, muting the sharp starkness of my situation. It was bearable if I embraced courage and the knowledge that I was strong.

My hands balled, grateful for the thought. I didn’t know who I was, but it didn’t matter, because the person who I was in this moment mattered the most.

I had to remain segmented, so I could get through whatever was about to happen. All I had was gut instinct, quiet strength, and rationality. Everything else had been taken.

“Stop fighting, you fucking idiots!”

The loud growl rumbled like an earthquake, hushing the battle in one fell swoop. Whoever had spoken had power.

Immense power. Colossal power.

A shiver darted over my skin.

“What the fuck happened? Have you lost your goddamn lovin’ mind?” a man yelled.

A sound of a short scuffle, then the fresh whiff of tilled dirt graced my nose.

“It’s done. Throw down your weapons and bend a fucking knee.” The same earthquake rumbled. The weight of his command pushed me harder against the damp ground.

“I’m not bending nothing, you asshole. You aren’t my Prez!”

“I am. Have been for the past four years.”

“You’re not. You’re his bitch. Don’t think his power is yours.”

Another fight—muffled fists and kicks. It ended swiftly with a painful groan.

The earthquake voice came again. “Open your eyes and follow the red fucking river. Your chosen—the one you hand-picked to slaughter me and take over the Club—he’s dead. Did you ever stop to think Wallstreet made me Prez for a fucking reason?”

Another moan.

“I’m the chosen one. I’m the one who knows the family secrets, absorbed the legacy, and earned his way into power. You don’t know shit. Nobody does. So bend a fucking knee and respect.”

Another tremor ran down my back.

Silence for a time, apart from the squelch of boots and heavy breathing. Then a barely muttered curse. “You’ll die. One way or another, we won’t put up with a Dagger as a Prez. We’re the Corrupts, goddammit. Having a traitor rule us is a fucking joke.”

“I’m the traitor? The man who obeys your leader? Who guides in his stead? I’m the traitor when you try and rally my brothers in a war?” A heavy thud of a fist connected with flesh. “No…I’m not. You are.”

My mind raced, sucking up noises and forming wild conclusions of what happened before me. Was this World War Three? Was this the apocalypse of the life I couldn’t remember? No matter how I pieced it together, I couldn’t make sense of anything.

The air was thick with anticipation. I didn’t know how many men stood before me. I didn’t know how many corpses littered the ground, or how such violence could be permitted in the world I used to know. But I did know the cease-fire was fragile and any moment it would explode.

A single threat slithered through the grass like a snake. “I’ll kill you, motherfucker. Mark my words. The true Corrupts are just waiting to take you out.”

The gentle foot-thuds of someone large vibrated through the ground. “The Corrupts haven’t existed for four fucking years. The moment I took the seat, it’s been Pure Corruption all the way. And you’re not fucking pure enough for this Club. You’re done.”

I flinched as the sulfuric boom of a gun ripped through the stagnant air.

A crash as a body fell lifeless to the grass. A soft puff of a soul escaping.

Murder.

Murder was committed right before me.

The inherent need to nurture and heal—the part of me that was as steadfast as the beat of my heart—wept with regret.

Death was something I’d fought against on a daily basis, but now I was weaponless.

I hated that a life had been stolen right before me. That I hadn’t been able to stop it.

I’m a witness.

And yet, I’d witnessed nothing.

I’d been privy to a battle but seen nothing. Knew no one. I would never be able to tell who shot whom, or who was right and who was wrong.

My hands shook, even though I managed to stay eerily calm. Am I in shock? And if I was, how did I cure myself?

The woman beside me curled into a ball, her knees digging into my side. My first reaction was to repel away from the touch. I didn’t know who was friend or foe. But a second reaction came quickly; the urge to share my calmness—to let her know that no matter what happened, she wasn’t alone. We faced the same future—no matter how grim.

Voices cascaded over us, whispers mainly, quickly spoken orders. Every sound was heightened. Being robbed of sight made my body seek other ways in which to find clues.

“Get rid of the bodies before daybreak.”

“We’ll go back and make sure we’re still covered.”

“Send out the word. It’s over. The Prez won—no anarchy today.”

Each voice was distinct but my ears twitched only for one: the earthquake rumble that set my skin quivering like quicksand.

He hadn’t spoken since he’d condemned someone to death and pulled the trigger. Every second of not hearing him made my heart trip faster. I wasn’t afraid. I should be. I should be immobile with fear. But he invoked something in me—something primal. Just like I knew I was female and a vet, I knew his voice meant something. Every inch of me tensed, waiting for him to speak. It was wrong to crave the voice of a killer, but it was the only thing I wanted.

Needed.

I need to know who he is.

Wet mud sucked loudly against boots as they came closer.

The woman whimpered, but I angled my chin toward the sound, wishing my eyes were uncovered.

I wanted to see. I wanted to witness the carnage before me. Because it was carnage. The stench of death confirmed it. It was morbid to want to see such destruction, but without my sight all of this seemed like a terrible nightmare. Nothing was grounded—completely nonsensical and far too strange.

I needed proof that this was real.

I needed concrete evidence that I wasn’t mad. That my body was intact, even if my mind was not.

I sucked in a breath as warm fingers touched my cheek, angling my face upward and out of the mud. Strong hands caressed the back of my skull, fumbling with my blindfold.

The anticipation of finally getting my wish to see made me stay still and cooperative in his hold.

I didn’t say a word or move. I just waited. And breathed. And listened.

The man’s breath was heavy and low, interspersed with a quick catch of pain. His fingers were swift and sure, but unable to hide the small fumble of agony.

He’s hurt.

The pressure of the blindfold suddenly released, trading opaque darkness for a new kind of gloom.

Night sky. Moonshine. Stars above.

Anchors of a world I knew, but no recognition of the dark-shrouded industrial estate where blood gleamed silver-black and corpses dotted the field.

I’m alive.

I can see.

The joy at having my eyes freed came and went as blazing as a comet.

Then my life ended as our gazes connected.

Green to green.

I have green eyes.

Down and down I spiraled, deeper and deeper into his clutches.

My life—past, present, and future—lost all purpose the second I stared into his soul.

The fear I’d been missing slammed into my heart.

I quivered. I quaked.

Something howled deep inside with age-old knowledge.

Every part of me arched toward him, then shied away in terror.

Him.

A nightmare come to life.

A nightmare I wanted to live.

If life was a tapestry, already threaded and steadfast, then he was the scissors that cut me free. He tore me out, stole me away, changed the whole prophecy of who I was meant to be.

Jaw-length dark hair, tangled and sweaty, framed a square jaw, straight nose, and full lips. His five-o’clock stubble held remnants of war, streaked with dirt and blood. But it was his eyes that shot a quivering arrow into my heart, spreading his emerald anger.

He froze, his body curving toward mine. Blistering hope flickered across his features. His mouth fell open and love so achingly deep glowed in his gaze. “What—” A leg gave out, making him kneel beside me. His hands shook as he cupped my face, his fingers digging painfully into my cheekbones. “It’s not—”

My heart raced. Yes.

“You know me,” I breathed.

The moment my voice webbed around us, storm clouds rolled over the sunshine in his face, blackening the hope and replacing it with pure hatred.

He changed from watching me like I was his angel to glowering as if I were a despicable devil.

I shivered at the change—at the iciness and hardness. He breathed hard, his chest rising and falling. His lips parted, a rumbling command falling from his mouth to my ears. “Stand up. You’re mine now.”

When I didn’t move, his hand landed on my side. His touch was blocked by clothing but I felt it everywhere. He stroked my soul, tickled my heart, and caressed every cell with fingers that despised me.

I couldn’t suck in a proper breath.

With a vicious push, he rolled me over, and with a sharp blade sliced my bindings. With effortless power, so thrilling and terrifying, he hauled me to my feet.

I didn’t sway. I didn’t cry. Only pulled the disgusting gag from my mouth and stared in silence.

I stared up, up, up into his bright green eyes, understanding something I shouldn’t understand.

This was him.

My nightmare.

Review 5 starsRuin&Rule-DGR

We met in a nightmare, loved in a prayer. We gave everything until both were laid bare.

You know that moment when you pick up a book and you know, you just know that it’s going to be one of those books. A book that will keep you up until the crack of dawn reading. A book that you’d pass on food and sleep to read even if you’ll be a grumpy zombie the entire day. A book that will make your employees think you have a bladder infection because you take so many “bathroom breaks”. What? Too far. What I’m telling you is this was quite easily my favorite book by Pepper Winters, and this is coming from someone that’s read and loved her entire backlist. Yeah. It was that good.

I always believed life would grant rewards to those most worthy. I was fucking naive. Life doesn’t reward- it ruins. It ruins those most deserving and takes everything. It takes everything all while watching any remaining goodness rot to hate.

When Pepper first introduced Author “Kill” Killian in Third Debt I was absolutely hooked. I knew that I’d beg, cry, and/or sell an ovary for his story. There was just something so devastatingly broken about him and if anyone knows how to write the broken and broody heroes, it’s this author. Kill was such a multifaceted character, he practically leapt off the pages. There’s this barely restrained violence to him along with something so completely broken and painful that you can’t help but fall head over heels for him right way, right or wrong.
Ruin&Rule2-DGRYears ago a betrayal lead to a tragedy that irrevocably changed the path of Kill’s life forever. He lost something so dear to him, that the loss of it took his heart with it. Now all he craves is vengeance. He lives and breathes revenge. And he won’t stop until those responsible for his greatest loss pay in blood.
She wakes up after being kidnapped and held to be trafficked in the middle of war. With no memory of who she is, her name, or why she’s here she struggles for a tiny thread of memory. And then she comes face to face with a pair stunned and enraged green eyes. Eyes that she feels to her core she knows from somewhere and yet she can’t place them.

My life- past, present, and future- lost all purpose the second I stared into his soul.

He’s covered in blood, stinks of death and yet she’s not afraid of him. While she knows that there’s some sort of tethered connection between them she doesn’t know if that’s a figment of her imagination or the hint of a memory.

I’d woken up in hell with no reflex fear of the devil.

Kill doesn’t want or need women for anything more than an empty release. So why is it the gorgeous redhead with the green eyes effects him on such a visceral level? He has no problem using anyone for his end game, and she’s no exception. Even if he seems to crave her on a level that goes far beyond just carnal.
Ruin&Rule1-DGR

The heat.
The throb.
The need.
He was an addiction to my painfully deprived mind.

And you know what? That is all about the plot you’ll be getting from me. What I can tell you is that I absolutely devoured this book. It sucked me in like an angst filled gritty and dark vortex and didn’t let me out until the very end.

The mystery behind the extent of what Killian is hiding and the truth behind her memories almost drove me out of my ever loving mind. The writing was absolutely phenomenal. Each chapter begins with a snippet from Killian’s POV and continues in her POV. This really added to the overall feeling of the book and the story. It gives you just enough to keep you hooked and yet not quite enough to put your overworking brain to ease.

Sometimes lies are the only thing keeping us sane.

It was page-turner filled with so much emotion, it was almost overwhelming. It was erotic and angsty. It was absolute gritty perfection. If you haven’t read this phenomenal author yet, I guarantee that you will be hooked after this book. It does end on a cliffhanger, but somehow I was OK with it. It really felt like it should have ended where it did. It was long, but there was not one empty page. Basically, what I’m trying to tell you here is that I fucking LOVED this book. HARD. If you’re not reading it, I really don’t know what you’re doing with your life.

About the Author

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Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex… her books have sex.

She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.

Her Dark Erotica books include:

Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)

Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)

Her Grey Romance books include:

Destroyed

STALK Pepper: Website | Pinterest | Facebook | Twitter | Blog | Goodreads

#NewRelease & Excerpt: ★Ruin & Rule★ by Pepper Winters

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Meet Killian in Pepper Winter’s new MC Romance!

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NOW AVAILABLE

Amazon / iBooks / B&N / Kobo / Google Play

About The Book

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“We met in a nightmare. The in-between world where time had no power over reason. We fell in love. We fell hard. But then we woke up. And it was over . . .”

RUIN & RULE

She is a woman divided. Her past, present, and future are as twisted as the lies she’s lived for the past eight years. Desperate to get the truth, she must turn to the one man who may also be her greatest enemy . . .

He is the president of Pure Corruption MC. A heartless biker and retribution-deliverer. He accepts no rules, obeys no one, and lives only to reap revenge on those who wronged him. And now he has stolen her, body and soul.

Can a woman plagued by mystery fall in love with the man who refuses to face the truth? And can a man drenched in darkness forgo his quest for vengeance-and finally find redemption?

“Ruin & Rule is a full-length book at 436 pages and ends on a cliffhanger. Cleo and Kill’s story continues in SIN & SUFFER.”

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ExcerptPrologue

We met in a nightmare.

The in-between world where time had no power over rhyme, reason, or connection. We met. We stared. We knew.

There was no distortion from the outside world. No right or wrong. No confusion or battles from hearts and minds.

Just us. In our silent dreamworld.

That nightmare became our home. Planting ghosts, raising fantasies. Entwined together in our happily skewed reality.

We fell in love. We fell hard.

In those fleeting seconds of our nightmare, we lived an eternity.

But then we woke up.

And it was over.

Chapter One

I always believed life would grant rewards to those most worthy. I was fucking naïve. Life doesn’t reward—it ruins. It ruins those most deserving and takes everything. It takes everything all while watching any remaining goodness rot to hate.

—Kill

[ORN_SB]

Darkness.

That was my world now. Literally and physically.

The back of my skull hurt from being knocked unconscious. My wrists and shoulders ached from lying on my back with my hands tied behind me.

Nothing was broken—at least it didn’t feel that way—but everything was bruised. The fuzziness receded wisp by wisp, parting the clouds of sleep, trying to shed light on what’d happened. But there was no light. My eyes blinked at the endless darkness from the mask tied around my head. Anxiety twisted my stomach at having such a fundamental gift taken away.

I didn’t move, but mentally catalogued my body from the tips of my toes to the last strand of hair on my head. My jaw and tongue ached from the foul rag stuffed in my mouth and my nose permitted a shallow stream of oxygen to enter—just enough to keep me alive.

Fear tried to claw its way through my mind, but I shoved it away. I deliberately suppressed panic in order to assess my predicament rather than lose myself to terror.

Fear never helps, only hinders.

My senses came back, creeping tentatively, as if afraid whoever had stolen me would notice their return.

Sound: the squeak of brakes, the creak of a vehicle settling from motion to stopping.

Touch: the skin on my right forearm stung, throbbing with a mixture of soreness and sharpness. A burn perhaps?

Smell: dank rotting vegetables and the astringent, pungent scent of fear—but it wasn’t mine. It was theirs.

It wasn’t just me being kidnapped.

My heart flurried, drinking in their terror. It made my breath quicken and legs itch to run. Forcing myself to ignore the outside world, I focused inward. Clutching my inner strength where calmness was a need rather than a luxury.

I refused to lose myself in a fog of tears. Desperation was a curse and I wouldn’t succumb, because I had every intention of being prepared for what might happen next.

I hated the sniffles and stifled sobs of others around me. Their bleak sadness tugged at my heartstrings, making me fight with my own preservation, replacing it with concern for theirs.

Get through this, then worry about them.

I didn’t think this was a simple opportunistic snatch. Whoever had stolen me planned it. The hunch grew stronger as I searched inside for any liquor remnants or the smell of cigarettes.

Had I been at a party? Nightclub?

Nothing.

I hadn’t been stupid or reckless. I think…

No hint or clue as to where I’d been or what I’d been doing when they’d come for me.

I wriggled, trying to move away from the stench. My bound wrists protested, stinging as the rope around them gnawed into my flesh like twine-beasts. My ribs bellowed, along with my head. There was no give in my restraints. I stopped trying to move, preserving my energy.

I tried to swallow.

No saliva.

I tried to speak.

No voice.

I tried to remember what happened.

I tried to remember…

Panic.

Nothing.

I can’t remember.

“Get up, bitch,” a man said. Something jabbed me in the ribs. “Won’t tell you again. Get.”

I froze as my mind hurtled me from present to past.

I’ll miss you so much,” she wailed, hugging me tighter.

“I’m not dying, you know.” I tried to untangle myself, looking over my shoulder at the final call flashing for my flight. I hated being late for anything. Let alone my one chance at escaping and finding out the truth once and for all.

“Call me the moment you get there.”

“Promise.” I drew a cross over my heart—

The memory shattered as my horizontal body suddenly went vertical in one swoop.

Who was that girl? Why did I have no memory of it ever happening?

“I said get up, bitch.” The man breathed hard in my ear, sending a waft of reeking breath over me. The blindfold stole my sight, but it left my nose woefully unprotected.

Unfortunately.

My captor shoved me forward. The ground was steady beneath my feet. The sickness plaiting with my confusion faded, leaving me cold.

My legs stumbled in the direction he wanted me to go. I hated shuffling in the darkness, not knowing where I came from or where I was being herded. There were no sounds of comfort or smothered snickers. This wasn’t a masquerade.

This was real.

This is real.

My heart thudded harder, fear slipping through my defenses. But full-blown terror remained elusive. Slippery like a silver fish, darting on the outskirts of my mind. It was there but fleeting, keeping me clear-headed and strong.

I was grateful for that. Grateful that I maintained what dignity I had left—remaining strong even in the face of the unknown terrors lurking on the other side of my blindfold.

Moans and whimpers of other women grew in decibels as men ordered them to follow the same path I walked. Either death row or salvation, I had no choice but to inch my way forward, leaving my forgotten past behind.

I willed snippets to come back. I begged the puzzlement of my past to slot into place, so I could make sense of this horrible world I’d awoken in.

But my mind was locked to me. A fortress withholding everything I wished to know.

The pushing stopped. So did I.

Big mistake.

“Move.” A cuff to the back of my head sent me wheeling forward. I didn’t stop again. My bare feet traversed…wood?

Bare feet?

Where are my shoes?

The missing knowledge twisted my stomach.

Where did I come from?

How did I end up here?

What’s my name?

It wasn’t the terror of the unknown future that stole my false calmness. It was the fear of losing my very self. They’d stolen everything. My triumphs, my trespasses, my accomplishments and failures.

How could I deal with this new world if I didn’t know what skills I had to stay alive? How could I hope to defeat my enemy when my mind revolted and locked me out?

Who am I?

To have who I was deleted…It was unthinkable.

“Faster, bitch.” Something cold wedged against my spine, pushing me onward. With my hands behind my back, I shuffled faster, negotiating the ground as best I could for dips or trips.

“Step down.” The man grabbed my bound wrists, giving me something to lean against as my toes navigated the small steps before me.

“Again.”

I obeyed.

“Last one.”

I managed the small staircase without falling flat on my face.

My face.

What do I look like?

A loud scraping noise sounded before me. I shied back, bumping against a feminine form. The woman behind me cried out—the first verbal sound of another.

“Move.” The pressure on my lower back came again, and I obeyed. Inching forward until the stuffy air of old vegetables and must was replaced by…copper and metallic…blood?

Why…why is that so familiar?

I gasped as my mind free-fell into another memory.

“I don’t think I can do this.” I darted away, throwing up in the rubbish bin in the classroom. The unique stench of blood curdled my stomach.

“Don’t overthink it. It’s not what you’re doing to the animal to make it bleed. It’s what you’re doing to make it live.” My professor shook his head, waiting for me to swill out my mouth and return white-faced and queasy to the operation in progress.

My heart splintered like a broken piece of glass, reflecting the compassion and responsibility I felt for such an innocent creature. This little puppy that’d been dumped in a plastic bag to die after being shot with BB gun pellets. He’d survive only if I mastered the skills to stem his internal bleeding and embrace the vocation I was called to do.

Inhaling the scent of blood, I let it invade my nostrils, scald my throat, and impregnate my soul. I drank its coppery essence. I drenched myself in the smell of the creature’s life force until it no longer affected me.

Picking up a scalpel, I said, “I’m ready—”

“Holy fuck!” The man guiding me forward suddenly whacked the base of my spine. The hard pain shoved me forward and I tripped.

“Wire—get me fucking reinforcements. He’s started a motherfucking war!”

Wind and body motion swarmed me as men charged from behind. The darkness I lived in suddenly came alive with sound.

Bullets flew, impaling themselves into the metal sides of the vehicle I’d just stepped from. Pings and ricochets echoed in my ear. Curses bellowed; moans of pain threaded like a breeze.

Someone grabbed my arm, swinging me to the side. “Get down!” The inertia of his throw knocked me off balance. With my wrists bound together, I had nothing to grab with, no way to protect myself from falling.

I fell.

My stomach swooped as tumbled off a small platform and smashed against the ground.

Dirt, damp grass, and moldy leaves replaced the stench of blood, cutting through the cloying sharpness of spilled metallic. My mouth opened, gasping in pain. Blades of grass tickled my lips as my cheek stuck to wet mud.

My shoulder screamed with agony, but I ignored the new injury. My mind clung to the unlocked memory. The fleeting recollection of my profession.

I’m a vet.

The sense of homecoming and security that one little snippet brought was priceless. My soul snarled for more, suddenly ravenous for missing information.

I skipped straight from fumbling uncertainty into starvation for more.

Tell me! Show me. Who am I?

I searched inside for more clues. But it was like trying to grab on to an elusive dream, fading faster and faster the harder I chased.

I couldn’t remember anything about medicine or how to heal. All I knew was I’d been trained to embrace the scent of blood. I wasn’t afraid of it. I didn’t faint or suffer sickness at the sight of it pouring from an open wound.

That tiniest knowledge was enough to settle my prickling nerves and focus on the outside world again.

Battle cries. Men screaming. Men growling. The dense thuds of fists on flesh and the horrible deflection of gunshots.

I couldn’t understand. Had I fallen through time and entered an alternate dimension?

Another body landed on top of mine.

I cried out, winded from a sharp poke of an elbow to my ribs.

The figure rolled away, crying softly. Feminine.

Why aren’t I crying?

I once again searched for fear. It wasn’t natural not to be afraid. I’d woken up alone, stolen, and thrown into the middle of a war, yet I wasn’t hyperventilating or panicked.

My calmness was like a drug, oozing over me, muting the sharp starkness of my situation. It was bearable if I embraced courage and the knowledge that I was strong.

My hands balled, grateful for the thought. I didn’t know who I was, but it didn’t matter, because the person who I was in this moment mattered the most.

I had to remain segmented, so I could get through whatever was about to happen. All I had was gut instinct, quiet strength, and rationality. Everything else had been taken.

“Stop fighting, you fucking idiots!”

The loud growl rumbled like an earthquake, hushing the battle in one fell swoop. Whoever had spoken had power.

Immense power. Colossal power.

A shiver darted over my skin.

“What the fuck happened? Have you lost your goddamn lovin’ mind?” a man yelled.

A sound of a short scuffle, then the fresh whiff of tilled dirt graced my nose.

“It’s done. Throw down your weapons and bend a fucking knee.” The same earthquake rumbled. The weight of his command pushed me harder against the damp ground.

“I’m not bending nothing, you asshole. You aren’t my Prez!”

“I am. Have been for the past four years.”

“You’re not. You’re his bitch. Don’t think his power is yours.”

Another fight—muffled fists and kicks. It ended swiftly with a painful groan.

The earthquake voice came again. “Open your eyes and follow the red fucking river. Your chosen—the one you hand-picked to slaughter me and take over the Club—he’s dead. Did you ever stop to think Wallstreet made me Prez for a fucking reason?”

Another moan.

“I’m the chosen one. I’m the one who knows the family secrets, absorbed the legacy, and earned his way into power. You don’t know shit. Nobody does. So bend a fucking knee and respect.”

Another tremor ran down my back.

Silence for a time, apart from the squelch of boots and heavy breathing. Then a barely muttered curse. “You’ll die. One way or another, we won’t put up with a Dagger as a Prez. We’re the Corrupts, goddammit. Having a traitor rule us is a fucking joke.”

“I’m the traitor? The man who obeys your leader? Who guides in his stead? I’m the traitor when you try and rally my brothers in a war?” A heavy thud of a fist connected with flesh. “No…I’m not. You are.”

My mind raced, sucking up noises and forming wild conclusions of what happened before me. Was this World War Three? Was this the apocalypse of the life I couldn’t remember? No matter how I pieced it together, I couldn’t make sense of anything.

The air was thick with anticipation. I didn’t know how many men stood before me. I didn’t know how many corpses littered the ground, or how such violence could be permitted in the world I used to know. But I did know the cease-fire was fragile and any moment it would explode.

A single threat slithered through the grass like a snake. “I’ll kill you, motherfucker. Mark my words. The true Corrupts are just waiting to take you out.”

The gentle foot-thuds of someone large vibrated through the ground. “The Corrupts haven’t existed for four fucking years. The moment I took the seat, it’s been Pure Corruption all the way. And you’re not fucking pure enough for this Club. You’re done.”

I flinched as the sulfuric boom of a gun ripped through the stagnant air.

A crash as a body fell lifeless to the grass. A soft puff of a soul escaping.

Murder.

Murder was committed right before me.

The inherent need to nurture and heal—the part of me that was as steadfast as the beat of my heart—wept with regret.

Death was something I’d fought against on a daily basis, but now I was weaponless.

I hated that a life had been stolen right before me. That I hadn’t been able to stop it.

I’m a witness.

And yet, I’d witnessed nothing.

I’d been privy to a battle but seen nothing. Knew no one. I would never be able to tell who shot whom, or who was right and who was wrong.

My hands shook, even though I managed to stay eerily calm. Am I in shock? And if I was, how did I cure myself?

The woman beside me curled into a ball, her knees digging into my side. My first reaction was to repel away from the touch. I didn’t know who was friend or foe. But a second reaction came quickly; the urge to share my calmness—to let her know that no matter what happened, she wasn’t alone. We faced the same future—no matter how grim.

Voices cascaded over us, whispers mainly, quickly spoken orders. Every sound was heightened. Being robbed of sight made my body seek other ways in which to find clues.

“Get rid of the bodies before daybreak.”

“We’ll go back and make sure we’re still covered.”

“Send out the word. It’s over. The Prez won—no anarchy today.”

Each voice was distinct but my ears twitched only for one: the earthquake rumble that set my skin quivering like quicksand.

He hadn’t spoken since he’d condemned someone to death and pulled the trigger. Every second of not hearing him made my heart trip faster. I wasn’t afraid. I should be. I should be immobile with fear. But he invoked something in me—something primal. Just like I knew I was female and a vet, I knew his voice meant something. Every inch of me tensed, waiting for him to speak. It was wrong to crave the voice of a killer, but it was the only thing I wanted.

Needed.

I need to know who he is.

Wet mud sucked loudly against boots as they came closer.

The woman whimpered, but I angled my chin toward the sound, wishing my eyes were uncovered.

I wanted to see. I wanted to witness the carnage before me. Because it was carnage. The stench of death confirmed it. It was morbid to want to see such destruction, but without my sight all of this seemed like a terrible nightmare. Nothing was grounded—completely nonsensical and far too strange.

I needed proof that this was real.

I needed concrete evidence that I wasn’t mad. That my body was intact, even if my mind was not.

I sucked in a breath as warm fingers touched my cheek, angling my face upward and out of the mud. Strong hands caressed the back of my skull, fumbling with my blindfold.

The anticipation of finally getting my wish to see made me stay still and cooperative in his hold.

I didn’t say a word or move. I just waited. And breathed. And listened.

The man’s breath was heavy and low, interspersed with a quick catch of pain. His fingers were swift and sure, but unable to hide the small fumble of agony.

He’s hurt.

The pressure of the blindfold suddenly released, trading opaque darkness for a new kind of gloom.

Night sky. Moonshine. Stars above.

Anchors of a world I knew, but no recognition of the dark-shrouded industrial estate where blood gleamed silver-black and corpses dotted the field.

I’m alive.

I can see.

The joy at having my eyes freed came and went as blazing as a comet.

Then my life ended as our gazes connected.

Green to green.

I have green eyes.

Down and down I spiraled, deeper and deeper into his clutches.

My life—past, present, and future—lost all purpose the second I stared into his soul.

The fear I’d been missing slammed into my heart.

I quivered. I quaked.

Something howled deep inside with age-old knowledge.

Every part of me arched toward him, then shied away in terror.

Him.

A nightmare come to life.

A nightmare I wanted to live.

If life was a tapestry, already threaded and steadfast, then he was the scissors that cut me free. He tore me out, stole me away, changed the whole prophecy of who I was meant to be.

Jaw-length dark hair, tangled and sweaty, framed a square jaw, straight nose, and full lips. His five-o’clock stubble held remnants of war, streaked with dirt and blood. But it was his eyes that shot a quivering arrow into my heart, spreading his emerald anger.

He froze, his body curving toward mine. Blistering hope flickered across his features. His mouth fell open and love so achingly deep glowed in his gaze. “What—” A leg gave out, making him kneel beside me. His hands shook as he cupped my face, his fingers digging painfully into my cheekbones. “It’s not—”

My heart raced. Yes.

“You know me,” I breathed.

The moment my voice webbed around us, storm clouds rolled over the sunshine in his face, blackening the hope and replacing it with pure hatred.

He changed from watching me like I was his angel to glowering as if I were a despicable devil.

I shivered at the change—at the iciness and hardness. He breathed hard, his chest rising and falling. His lips parted, a rumbling command falling from his mouth to my ears. “Stand up. You’re mine now.”

When I didn’t move, his hand landed on my side. His touch was blocked by clothing but I felt it everywhere. He stroked my soul, tickled my heart, and caressed every cell with fingers that despised me.

I couldn’t suck in a proper breath.

With a vicious push, he rolled me over, and with a sharp blade sliced my bindings. With effortless power, so thrilling and terrifying, he hauled me to my feet.

I didn’t sway. I didn’t cry. Only pulled the disgusting gag from my mouth and stared in silence.

I stared up, up, up into his bright green eyes, understanding something I shouldn’t understand.

This was him.

My nightmare.

ruin & rule bt teaser 2

About the Author

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Pepper Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife. She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her characters. Oh, and sex… her books have sex.

She loves to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair with her book boyfriends.

Her Dark Erotica books include:

Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)

Quintessentially Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)

Her Grey Romance books include:

Destroyed

STALK Pepper: Website | Pinterest | Facebook | Twitter | Blog | Goodreads

Blog Tour, Review & #Giveaway: ★Rebel★ by @_callie_hart

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About The Book

Rebel and Sophia’s story.The first of a three part series. This novel contains a small snippet which has already been released in the Owned: An Alpha Anthology, however it is followed by a full story installment.

Sophia

Sometimes, you don’t mean to become another person. Sometimes the choice is made for you, and pretending is the only thing that keeps you going. When Alexis Romera is taken and her kidnappers find her fake ID in her purse, she must become Sophia in order to keep her family safe. Revealing her real identity to the man she’s sold to would be easy enough, but can she trust him? Hell bent on revenging the murder of his uncle, Rebel doesn’t seem all that interested in playing things safe.

In fact, nothing about the secretive, dark and brooding MC president seems safe at all.

Rebel

What do you do when the man who raised you is murdered, and the only witness is kidnapped girl who’s being sold as a sex slave? You buy her, of course. As president to the most powerful motorcycle club in America, Rebel isn’t lacking in power. There are strings the man can pull, and entire criminal organisations and corporate businesses alike would fall to their knees. However, along with such power comes intense interest. The DEA have their eye fixed solely on the MC…and they’re just waiting for Rebel to trip up.

Getting Sophia to testify is the only way to bring the Los Oscuros cartel down. The beautiful, dark haired, dark eyed woman is belligerent and uncooperative and unlikely to bend to his will, but Rebel has a few tricks up his sleeve to make her compliant–he’ll charm her until she’s bending over backwards to please him.

Of course, falling for her might cause a few hiccups along the way…

Excerpt

“You gonna sit down or what?”I sit down. Arguing with him would be futile. We sit there, side by side, staring off down the arrow-straight road, and for a moment I don’t hate him. He pulls a cell phone out of his pocket and taps something into it, and then he turns to face me, frowning slightly.

“You believe in vengeance?”

“You mean like revenge?”

He shakes his head. “Revenge is a selfish act. Retaliation for something. Vengeance is a different thing altogether. It’s about obtaining justice, usually for someone who can’t claim it for themselves.”

This is an odd line of questioning but I decide I’ll bite. Maybe I wouldn’t if he were being a jerk like he was a couple of hours ago, but that’s not what’s happening. He’s pensive, the live wire that apparently runs through him dulled for the moment. “I don’t know,” I say. “Probably, in that case.”

“What if I simplified the question?

What if I say, do you believe in justice?

“Then, yes, I do believe.”

Review

4 stars 

You believe in vengeance?”
“You mean like revenge?”
He shakes his head. “Revenge is a selfish act. Retaliation for something. Vengeance is a different thing altogether. It’s about obtaining justice, usually for someone who can’t claim it for themselves.”

Ever since I finished Burn, I have been practically salivating to get my hands on Rebel and Sophia’s story. After the tiny peak that we get in the Blood & Roses series, you already knew that this was going to be something amazingly good. And if you haven’t yet read the Blood & Roses series, don’t worry, because you can easily start with this book first.

One night where she’s in the wrong place and an even worse time, Alexis Romera’s life as she knows it comes to a screeching stop. She witnesses something that she’s not supposed to see and becomes a liability to men that you don’t even want knowing you exist. Taken. Sold. She is no longer Alexis but Sophia. Fearful for her family’s lives she keeps her true identity a secret while she fights to escape the clutches of men that wouldn’t think twice before slitting her throat.

I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about Sophia after learning some of the things that I learned about her in the B&R series. But being inside her head definitely fixed that. Even though she’s young, this is one tough bitch. And luckily for me, her age never leads to any TSTL decisions which is so often the case. Callie Hart did a phenomenal job in giving the readers a heroine that while has her vulnerability and fear very much present, she still manages to maintain a backbone without being too obvious about it.

Now what can I tell you about Rebel? This was definitely a character that was not at all what I had expected him to be. He was more. So much more. This is no everyday anti-hero. While he is definitely still that, he also has so much depth to him.

I appreciated the fact that the author didn’t simply pain him in black and white. If ever there was a character that was very firmly in the gray area, Rebel is that. While he has his bad he also has a lot of hidden good which you get to see unravel piece by piece throughout the book.

I also appreciated the fact that there was no insta-lust to be found here. The relationship development between Sophia and Rebel is very realistic in the fact that it’s a slow build. I simply couldn’t imagine it any other way. While Sophia is certainly attracted to him right away, she’s also as equally untrusting of him. There was this delicious undercurrent of sexual tension throughout all their interactions that makes for some extremely interesting reading.

You think you use your brain when you’re having sex?”
“Oh, Sophia. I use my brain. Every time I sleep with a woman, I’m using my head to figure out what she likes. How she likes it. What I can do to have her screaming my name until her throat’s raw.”

I loved that the author didn’t throw these characters together right away. You truly get to experience Sophia’s struggle with her circumstances and her attraction to her unlikely “captor”.

…I get the feeling sex with Rebel really would be criminal.

This is a continuing story arc that will have 2 additional parts, so it does end on a cliffhanger. However as interesting as the cliffy was, it wasn’t that bad because it’s more of a plot cliffy than a relationship one. If you were a fan of the Blood and Roses series, then this book is a must read. And if you haven’t yet discovered this fantastic author, there’s no better book to start with than this one. I can’t wait to see where Sophia and Rebel’s story will lead to next. All I can say is that the set up sounds absolutely delicious.

I can’t look away, though. I could close my eyes, but there’s something in the way he’s staring at me, so intense and focused, as though I’m the only thing he sees or cares about in this moment. I already know, deep down in my bones, that being looked at like that by him will be an addiction I won’t be able to shake.

About the Author

Callie has experienced many changes throughout her life, and gone through many ups and downs that have all worked towards shaping and molding her into the person she is today: fun loving, active, social, and hard working. The only thing that has remained a constant throughout her life is writing. Creating characters who will tear your conscience in two is a favorite pastime of Callie’s. There are few real saints and sinners in her books; more often, the denizens of her stories are all very human. Broken, flawed, and always with the potential for redemption.

Despite the subject matter being markedly hot and heavy in comparison to the stories she wrote in elementary school, there will always be an element of fairytale to her work.

Giveaway
3 Rebel Super Swag packs
1 paperback of Rebel w/ signed bookplate
1 complete eCopy set of the Blood & Roses series
1 ARC of Callie Hart & Lili St. Germain’s upcoming collaboration, Hell’s Kitchen 
(to be ready by end of February)
1 MAC “Rebel” lipstick
Signed Gary Taylor Leather Jacket
$20 Amazon/iBooks Gift card
Kindle HD 6

 

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Blog Tour, Review & #Giveaway: ★Kick★ by @CarmenJAuthor

Kick 
Author: Carmen Jenner
Release Date: January 26, 2015

When I was ten, my father indoctrinated me into the family.A brotherhood who would fight, protect, and give their lives for one another. A club whose ties ran thicker than blood, murkier than the dirt and grime that tainted my soul. Stronger than the bonds that connected me to my own family.

A band of brothers, where loyalty was kept and paid in a currency of blood.

When I was twenty-seven, I betrayed that brotherhood.

I’ve spent every day since running, avoiding paying back that debt.

My name is Daniel Johnson. I have betrayed everyone I ever loved.

And I’ll betray her too.

This is my story—if you’re screwed up enough to want to read it.

Warning: KICK contains graphic violence, profanity, drug use, and explicit sexual situations of a taboo nature. Intended for an 18+ audience only. Not intended for pussies.

Buy Links
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KICK Trailer

Join the KICK Release Day Party: http://on.fb.me/1t9xQnN
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Visit the Saint Savage MC official website: http://savagesaintsmc.blogspot.com.au/
Review
4 stars

I’m not the hero in this story; I’m the motherfucking villain.

Are you easily offended? Do you like fluffy MC books with a touch of Disney? Do you like easily redeemable anti-heroes that even at their worst still have some sort of lightness to them? Well fuck that and your delicate fucking sensibilities! Because you sure as fuck are not going to find it here.

Kick is a brutal, gritty, unapologetic, and no-punches-pulled look at the underbelly of the violent and bloody world of the MC. The men of Savage Saints are not men that are going to make you swoon. These are men that you’ll find yourself thinking you should be rooting against, and yet you can’t help but feel an inexplicable connection to. They’re all utterly fucked up in their own ways, and in the midst of that is Daniel “Kick” Johnson; a recent Savage Saints member but no less fucked up than the rest of them.

Fans of the Sugartown series may remember Kick as Ethan’s old MC brother, but if you haven’t read it, no worries, you’ll get a hell of an introduction into his world here. Kick is an asshole of epic proportions, and I’m not just talking of the sexy asshole variety, I’m talking flat. out. asshole. Born to a a drug whore mother and an MC member father, he was indoctrinated into the life at just ten years old. He was forced to grow up fast and hard. Life spared no feelings for him, teaching him a lesson no man should ever learn in a way that he’ll never forget it…

Sometimes kindness is a far worse weapon than brutality…

He’s learned early on that there are no happy endings for him and not to get close to any woman long enough to let her rip his heart out.

I love the broken ones because for a brief second, in the heat of the moment, I can forget how fucked up I truly am inside. I can forget about the darkness that i crave. I can forget who I am and focus on someone else’s pain…

 

But then Kick’s already fucked up world gets twisted on it’s axis even more when he meets her. A woman that may be even more fucked up than any of the club whores that he’s been tangled up with in the past.

But before you go thinking this is a romance that’s centered around the MC life, think again. It’s nothing even remotely close to that. This is Kick’s story, and while it may be at times erotic, the romance is very much secondary, and it works. So if things like graphic sex with other women other than the one he ends up with bother you, well my delicate little friend, this book is sure as fuck not for you.

His dark eyes challenge, they dare me to run, but they also implore me to stay. It’s ironic that the only thing keeping me here, keeping me grounded, is the man who abducted me.

Most of the story is told in Kick’s POV but you do get glimpses inside Indie’s head every now and then. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to really make you connect with her. Ultimately, though, the star of this story is Kick.

I don’t wanna fuckin’ need her. I don’t wanna need her. I never wanted to feel this shit, this helplessness again.


This is definitely not a book for the faint of heart. It’s violent and it’s fucking brutal. It will grip you by the throat and keep you on the edge of your seat until the very last page. It will also leave you reaching for that liquor cabinet at quite a few scenes.

Carmen truly brought the gritty fucked upedness with this book. And I for one enjoyed the fuck out of it. Speaking of ‘fucks’, this book had over 500 of them. Yes, I did a fucking ‘fuck’ count. My kindle actually lost fucking count. No joke. Carmen Jenner has managed to out-fuck my kindle. Ironically I DNFd a book last month for being riddled with what I found to be too many “fucks” for the sake of trying to be gritty and dark. That was not the case here. While my second 4 letter word makes quite a few appearances here, it never felt forced. It actually fit the story as a whole, and that says a lot. I guess what I’m trying to say here is that if lots of cussing offends you…

I kid. But also, this book is not for you.

She’s been through hell and she looks like a fuckin’ warrior. But if she’s a warrior, then what does that make me?
Warriors don’t need saviors.
Warriors save themselves.

I seriously enjoyed the hell out of this book. It was a non-stop, heart-pounding ride. It’s no small feat to take two completely fucked up characters and yet somehow make them work. Together. It’s also no small feat to take a character like Indie, with everything that she’s been through, and yet still give her a backbone of steel.

In short? This book was fucking awesome. And I can’t wait to see what else the evil genius mind of Carmen Jenner has in store for this series.

…because revenge is sweet. Until it isn’t.

Additional books by this author

Welcome to Sugartown 
Amazon / B&N / iTunes
Enjoy Your Stay
Greetings from Sugartown
Welcome to Sugartown Website:

 

About the Author

Carmen Jenner is a thirty-something, USA TODAY Best Selling Author, doctor, pilot and CIA agent. She’s also a compulsive, flagrant prevaricator who gets to make things up for a living.

While Sugartown may not technically exist, Carmen grew up in a small Australian town just like it, and just like her characters, she always longed for something more. They didn’t have an Elijah Cade, though.

If they did, you can be sure she would have never left.

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Copyright © 2015 · Dirty Girl Romance

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