Lost Kings MC Boxed Set, Includes Books 1-3, plus bonus material.
SLOW BURN (Lost Kings MC, Book #1)
Forced to represent an outlaw biker, a married attorney must come to terms with her feelings for her client while avoiding the danger he brings into her sedate life.
CORRUPTING CINDERELLA (Lost Kings MC, Book #2)
Love is the ultimate outlaw.
How do a lawyer and a badass biker with a heart of gold keep their love alive while their opposing worlds collide?
STRENGTH FROM LOYALTY (Lost Kings MC, Book #3)
As a dark cloud descends over Hope and Rock’s already precarious future, will a long-hidden secret push them both past the point of no return?
Bonus Scene #1
At the Range
Bonus Scene #2
PLUS, character interviews, and other exclusive-to-this-boxed-set material.
It wasn’t love at first sight when I met her. Lust? Definitely. I don’t think I believed in love at the time, but one look at her beautiful face, and all the bad stuff around me melted away. Not an easy feat for a guy in handcuffs.
Someone as innocent as her should never have gotten involved with a man like me. By innocent, I don't mean she was some breathy, eighteen-year-old virgin ingénue. No—when we met, she was a thirty-one-year-old married lady. When I use the word innocent, it is in terms of never having killed someone. Never seeing someone die in front of her. Never breaking the law.
True violence had never touched her life.
Violence and I had been close personal friends for a large part of my life. Along with crime. And death. I used violence as a tool to keep order in my often chaotic world, just as she used the law to keep things orderly in her black-and-white one.
She was a lawyer. I was a criminal. She was married to a decent, hard-working, honest guy. I fucked any willing girl who hung out in my club, and made my living in less than honest ways.
She was kind. I didn't know any nice women. Hadn’t known one since my mother died shortly after my eighth birthday. I don’t have many memories of her, but the ones I do have are warm and pleasant.
None of the tramps my father brought home after her death had an ounce of compassion for a motherless brat. The strippers that danced in my club seemed younger every day. A lot of them were bitchy drama queens, and the older I got, the less patience I had for emotional scenes. The girls who attended to the members of my motorcycle club were down to fuck, but not much else. That’s how I liked them.
We met in a courtroom. I sat in the area designated for prisoners. Shackles laced my hands and feet together. I shuffled into the room wearing a spiffy orange jumpsuit, the county correctional logo stenciled across my back in big white letters—just in case anyone thought I suffered from bad fashion sense.
She sat in the front row. I didn't hang my head when I entered. I stood proud and tall looking over the entire room. Some of my brothers stood along the back wall, waiting to see if I'd get bail.
I couldn’t find my attorney in the sea of people. His big, shiny, bald dome should have been easy to spot. My gaze wandered back to the girl in the front row. Long, straight, reddish-brown hair flowed down past her shoulders. Straight bangs across her forehead framed brilliant green eyes. Even from where I sat, I spotted freckles splattered across her nose. The deep green suit she wore emphasized the creaminess of her skin. The banister separating the criminals from the common folk blocked my view of anything below her shoulders, but that angelic face hooked me right away.
The sheriff leaned over and whispered to me, "Your attorney called to say he's running late." I nodded and mumbled a "thanks" without taking my eyes off the girl. Was her old man locked up? Was she a witness to a crime? Would my asshole lawyer get here so I could get free and talk to the girl?
"Any other message?" I asked Deputy Brown. He was a decent guy as far as pigs went. He'd treated me with respect, hadn't tried to bash my head into anything, and even brought me a donut before leading me upstairs to court. He didn’t get a chance to answer, because the bailiff made a big show of telling me to shut up. Arrogant prick wasn’t good enough to even be a cop, but he sure acted like one. I'd dealt with him before.
My eyes returned to the girl. She sat patient and attentive, waiting her turn. Once or twice, she looked at the clock. Only a slight twitch of her lips indicated her annoyance.
After what seemed like an eternity, the bailiff called the next case, and the girl stood up. She hauled a battered briefcase over her shoulder and stepped through the swinging gate up to the table across from where I sat.
If I'd been anywhere else in the world, I would have whistled long and low to express my appreciation for the soft curves of her body. The skirt she wore fell to her knees, but it clung to all the right spots and showcased a fantastic set of calves. Her modest heels clicked over the wooden floor, calling my attention to her slender ankles. I was so busy drooling over her I missed it when she stated her name.
The dickhead bailiff brought over a chair and actually smiled at her. She thanked him politely. The judge made some chit-chat with her, and she let out a girlish giggle. People seemed to know her. Like her.
"Yes, your honor." She stood up. Ah, she was a lawyer. That explained the chit-chat. She argued some civil matter I didn't understand or care about. I listened to her make her case, then watched her sit down. Her opponent didn’t have a lawyer. He bumbled around and generally made a fool of himself. She listened with a passive expression, then argued her position again. The judge ruled in her favor.
I wanted her. In more ways than one after her performance. The courtroom was almost empty. My guys still occupied the back row, but that was it. If my lawyer didn't show up soon, I'd be screwed.
I nudged Deputy Brown with my elbow. "Can she represent me?"
"I don't think she's a criminal attorney."
"Just for the arraignment. To get me out."
The deputy motioned to the bailiff to watch me and went to talk to the clerk. She nodded, and when the judge had a moment, she whispered in his ear.
Fuck. The girl was putting her stuff away and getting ready to leave. I really wanted her. I mean, I wanted to fuck her, of course. But I also wanted her to represent me. People seemed to like and respect her. I'd been in and out of the criminal justice system long enough to know getting out of trouble was sometimes less about what you knew and more about who you knew. If I'd gotten picked up in a different county, I could have used my connections to make this go away. Here, I was kind of stuck. I needed her.
"Attorney Kendall, could you stay and do an arraignment, please?" the judge asked off the record.
Her jaw dropped, and the color drained from her face. "Uh, I'm not a criminal attorney, your honor," she stammered.
"It's pretty simple. Mr. North's attorney got delayed. Don't make me appoint you," he teased.
"Well, um, just for the limited purpose of this arraignment?" she asked with a hopeful lilt to her voice.
The judge waved me over next to her. Her big eyes widened in shock as I lumbered over. I was mildly insulted. Had she really not noticed me the entire time I'd been sitting there?
"I can pay you," I whispered down to her.
She looked startled. "It's okay. What are we dealing with?" I liked the way she said "we."
She gave me a blank stare.
"Marijuana. Got caught with a couple blunts." Acting on a bad tip from one of the club’s many enemies, the cops had been hoping to pin a whole hell of a lot more on me. This was why, instead of ignoring the weed like most cops did these days, I was standing here in shackles and the orange jumpsuit.
"Oh geez." She rolled her eyes. At me or the charge, I wasn't sure.
"Do you have a record?"
"About a mile long."
That stopped her. She stared up at me, searching my face for the truth. Apparently deciding no one would joke about that, she nodded her head.
"Can you post bail? Do you work? Have a family?"
"Yes, yes, and yes."
She didn't ask what kind of work. Or what kind of family for that matter.
"Your honor, I've had a chance to confer with my client." "Very well. Let’s call it."
His clerk stood and read out, "The People of the State of New York versus Rochlan North." Look at that—the old gal even pronounced my first name right.
My girl looked up at me again. My manners were shit. I’d never bothered to introduce myself, I guess.
The judge slammed his gavel down. First time I’d heard him do it all morning. The sharp thwack broke the staring contest my pretty lawyer and I were engaged in. "Do you wish to hear the reading of the charges, counselor?"
She hesitated for a minute, and the judge covered the microphone with his hand. "Usually the attorney waives the reading, Miss Kendall."
"I know, your honor. Thank you. Yes, I'll waive the reading. May I have a copy of the charges for my file, though?"
"Yes, of course. Do you wish to be heard on bail?"
"Yes, your honor. My client assures me he can pay a reasonable sum. He's a hard-working family man, so it would be in society's best interest to allow him to continue to work and provide for his family while he waits to address these false charges."
I'm proud to say I kept a straight face during all of that. She impressed me with her quick thinking, though. Criminal attorney or not, she was clever. I had a fondness for clever. Clever kept you alive.
Cute and smart. I should get arrested more often.
"Very well. Bail is set in the amount of five hundred dollars cash. If your client is able to post it now, he can be processed downstairs instead of going back to county." She looked up at me and arched an eyebrow. I nodded and motioned my crew forward.
"That's acceptable. Thank you, your honor."
"Off the record," the judge said to the court reporter. He looked back up at my attorney. "See, that wasn't so hard, Miss Kendall." The judge's face lit up in a wolfish smile I didn't take kindly to. Already in my head, I'd laid claim to this woman whose first name I didn't even know.
The sheriff came over and gripped my elbow.
"Can't you remove the restraints, now?" she asked the sheriff with wide, pleading eyes.
To say her request stunned me would be an understatement. No one had ever given a crap about my discomfort.
The sheriff did not look surprised. He answered her gently. "No counselor, not till he's posted the bail money. You can meet us downstairs." He nodded toward the guys standing behind the banister. "His posse can show you the way."
She hesitated, and I read the expression on her face loud and clear. She didn't want to follow my crew anywhere. In fact, she looked like she wanted to run away.
"Go ahead, I'll be fine." I appreciated that she'd given it a try. Sheriffs wouldn’t break protocol no matter how owl-eyed innocent she acted. It sure turned me on, though. Maybe that was the moment I fell in love with her.
Autumn prefers to write her romances on the classy side of dirty, and she's a sucker for a filthy-talking, demanding alpha male hero. The bigger the better. She believes true love stories never end.
Some of Autumn's favorite hobbies include reading, writing, acting, music and horror movies. When she's home, her faithful Pug is always by her side. She's an active member of her local chapter of Romance Writers of America.
Autumn was born and raised in upstate New York. She still enjoys all four seasons there with her very own alpha hero and their three rescue dogs.
You can find Autumn on Facebook and she always loves to hear from readers at:
Title: The Key
Series: Heartfire Books
Author: Celeste Davis
Release Date: May 30, 2016
Cover Design: Margreet Asselberg of Rebel Edit & Design
I can't stop myself from wanting her, and I don't even know her name. Or if she even exists…
Kaylia Thomas has a secret. She can do something no one else can. She can travel in her dreams. Sometime she even meets other people…Dylan Weston has it all. He's the richest boy in town and a star athlete with a bright future. But he has a secret. He was only sixteen when the dreams started. He would wake to find a beautiful girl standing above him. Like him, she seemed lost in the desolate words they would visit together in his sleep. Now it's two years later and he's the prize catch of an Ivy League football team. He's just starting his freshman year when he sees her – the girl from his dreams. She's a fellow student at the prestigious university. And she's real. Kaylia resists facing the truth about their connection, but Dylan won't give up. He's not the only one drawn to the quiet beauty though. When he rescues her from a group of rowdy sports fans after a game, it triggers something in him that his been long repressed. A family curse that once awakened, can only lead to blood. Is Kaylia his true love? Or is she the key that unlocks the curse that will be his undoing? *The Key is the first story in the Heartfire Books, a paranormal romance series from first time author Celeste Davis. It has been completely rewritten and expanded in anticipation of the third book in the series – coming soon from Celeste Davis and Pincushion Press*
Kalia's heart was beating so fast, it felt like it was a horse that might gallop away from her. He was here. And he was demanding that she talk to him, that she admit what was happening. God help her, she wanted to talk to him too. She wanted everything in the dreams to be real. The long walks. The handholding. The kiss. Especially the kiss. Everything inside her warned that there would be consequences if she gave into that desire. That this was not a free gift. She didn't know if it was just nerves, or a lifetime of being the odd girl out, but her internal warning bell was clanging and it was loud. She let herself look at him, silencing the voice inside her that told her to run. She just... looked. Her eyes drank him in like the tall, cool drink of water that he was. Lord have mercy the boy was fine. His eyes were the same as she remembered, his shoulders just as broad. His hair was shorter, cut for the upcoming football season most likely. She missed the tousled curls he'd worn the last time she saw him. It softened him somehow. Now he looked... hard. Determined. He was staring at her, begging her with those deep blue eyes to say the words that would make this all real. Too real. Once she said them out loud though, she wouldn't be able to take them back. It was a line in the sand and she realized with a sense of inevitability that nothing would stop her from crossing it. Maybe this was fate. Maybe it was magic. Real magic, not the kind you read about in fairy tales. Either way, she couldn't fight it any longer. She sighed, unable to resist the entreating look in his beautiful eyes. "Your hair is shorter." He smiled at her with such relief that it almost made it worth it when they both ended up in the loony bin. Almost. "Yours too." She ran her hand through her new haircut distractedly. "Yeah, well my Gran cut it. She wanted to make the cut last until I went home again for Thanksgiving break." He was just standing there, staring at her like a kid on Christmas morning. Then he held out his hand expectantly. She looked at it as if it were a snake that might bite her. "I'm Dylan." Dylan. The name suited him. It was unusual. Pretty almost. But strong. She sighed, ignoring his hand. "Look, this isn't a good idea. We should just act like none of this ever happened. Otherwise we are basically admitting that we are insane." "Like I said, maybe we are. I'm okay with that." He was still grinning when he said it. She sighed again, feeling like she was speaking to a slow-witted child. Except he wasn't, was he? He was a big, beautiful looking young man. An Adonis really. How could he be here talking to her when she'd conjured him up out of loneliness all those years ago? He was supposed to just be her imaginary friend dammit. "Come on, just tell me your name. What's the big deal?" "The big deal-" She lowered her voice, whispering at him as she started walking around the outskirts of the game again. "The big deal is that stuff like this isn't supposed to happen." "Yeah, it's weird. But it's good weird, you know?" She stopped and stared at him. He was so handsome. So big. So actually there in the flesh that she had to resist the urge to reach out and poke him. "I guess." "So, what's your name? Otherwise I'm going to have to call you dream girl." She sighed again and stared at the hand he was once again holding out. Patiently waiting for her to accept it. She reached out and slid her small dark hand into his. "Kaylia. I'm Kaylia." He smiled at her and clasped her hand. A jolt shot through her. He jerked as if he felt it too. It was like an electrical current that seared her, straight to the soles of her feet. She let go abruptly, reaching up to touch the top of her head. Her hair was sticking straight up. Dylan's was too. He smiled sheepishly as if that were a totally normal reaction to a handshake. "So... Can I buy you a cup of coffee Kaylia?"
Celeste Davis has been fascinated by the paranormal since a young age. She has studied various forms of magic and astral projection starting in her teenage years and still frequently travels at night! Her new series of books will explore different dark worlds, and the things that remain hidden. Part the curtain and see what lies beneath!
Title: Let's Ride
Series: Legion of Guardians, Book 2
Author: Xyla Turner
Release Date: May 31, 2016
“Dying to talk to you, but too stubborn to start the conversation...”~ Unknown After one night together and a misunderstanding almost four years ago leaves Shay and Bronx not wanting to have anything to do with each other or so they think! Once, Shay’s sex buddy wears out his welcome, and Bronx learns about the arrangement, all of the shit hits the fan. A run-in with another MC, since Shay’s cousin’s trouble, found its way into Manor puts Bronx in a position to help the woman he has dreamt of having for the last four years. The attempt they make at exploring their unrequited attraction is challenged when the full truth is revealed, and old mistakes come back to haunt them. Let's Ride is a book filled with excitement including the return of Lori, which completely shocks the small town of Manor and Dessy taking on an unexpected member of the Guardians.
TRAILER:[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XDyOTKxgAts] Bronx just found out who Shay was screwing around with - I quickly intervened and said, “it doesn't fucking matter. Now take your drama out of here.” Shay turned all the way around to face me, then she said, “There is no drama now get the fuck outta my face. The both of you.” She said all of that with her eyes solely on me and not Greg. “You’re in here fussing and shit. Nobody wants to see that. Go and fuck like you normally do. You're good at that. Fucking ‘em and getting rid of ‘em. Just do that shit off Guardian territ…” I could have blamed it on the alcohol, but I meant every goddamn word. My heart was torn and I wanted hers to bleed too. It didn't matter that she was doing what I had driven her to do. I wouldn't cash in on my prize but I didn't want anyone else to have it either. It wasn't fair, but I did not give one fuck. I should have also known, even in my inebriated state, Shay also had zero fucks to give. She smacked me hard as shit, right across the left side of my face. It jerked slightly and then she was in my space. “Anything else you got to say to me, Bronx? Huh?”
Xyla Turner was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York. As a teenager, Xyla wrote short stories and essays that have won numerous awards in local to nationwide competitions. She is an avid reader, but a sucker for romance. Specifically, sassy females and dominant males. Xyla is a dedicated educator and a life coach. Outside of reading, Xyla likes to spend time with her family and travel. She writes different genres, but her favorite is romance.
Ways to check out Xyla World! Follow Me on Amazon Sign up for my Mailing List Sign up for my Texting List Visit My WebsiteFollow Me on Facebook Follow Me on Twitter Follow Me onInstagram Follow Me on Pintrest Follow Me on Tmblr Follow Me on Google Plus
Read Book 1 now!
Coming June 20th
Add to your Goodreads shelf now.
Book 13 in the USA Today Bestselling Impossible Series—Can be read as a standalone.
A man with a broken heart…
The agony of losing the woman I love to another Dominant has left me dead inside. Over the last two years, sex has become my drug of choice to cope with the loss. I know I’m too broken to ever love again, but that won’t stop me from trying to fuck my pain away.
A woman with a painful past…
I’m not interested in intimacy, but I am interested in sex. As a BDSM romance novelist, I need to explore the world of kink for my books. The power exchange is meaningless; nothing more than research. Until I meet him. The powerful Dom won’t relent until he breaks down all my walls, including the ones that protect my ravaged heart.
Bound together by lust and danger…
Chloe Martin is a BDSM romance author by night and an investigative journalist by day. When the latter brings her to the New York unit of the FBI to research the Latin Kings, she never expects her two careers to collide. The agent she’s shadowing—Dexter Scott—is also a Dominant, and he’s interested in helping with her research in the field and in the bedroom.
But Chloe’s story on the Latin Kings puts her in the line of fire, and Dex’s protective—and possessive—instincts kick in. Can he let go of his pain and find his happily ever after? Or will the danger that surrounds them steal his second chance at love?
Julia Sykes is the USA Today bestselling author of the Impossible Series. She has always kept dark stories tucked away in her mind, so she was thrilled when she discovered that other people actually want to read them. Her books blend romance, suspense, and BDSM.
After spending four years living in England, Julia returned to her Southern homeland. She has recently settled down in South Carolina and spends her time petting her cat-children, reading, and binge watching TV with her husband when not writing. You can usually find Julia in Starbucks with a venti iced latte clutched in her hand.
Julia loves connecting with readers! Please feel free to contact her on facebook, through twitter, or email her directly at firstname.lastname@example.org. You can find out more about Julia's current and future projects at julia-sykes.com.
My name is Zoe Thorne and I'm just an ordinary woman. My life is mundane, and that's perfectly fine with me; I work a boring job, watch TV, read books, and sleep alone. There's nothing special about me.
Except that I can see ghosts.
After suffering years of rejection due to my freakish ability, I'm determined to hide my "gift" from others. That is until I meet Malachi Flemming and his peculiar yet amusing friends. Mal hosts a paranormal web show titled The Wraith Files and when he discovers my talent, he offers me a job. Well, offer may not be the right word.
He won't take no for an answer.
One night, we stumble across a spirit on the side of a deserted, country road. He seems lost and scared, convinced someone murdered him. Mal's interest is piqued and he insists on helping me investigate the accident. The deeper we dig, the clearer it becomes that the killer doesn't want us to discover the truth.
Desperate people will go to any lengths to keep their secrets buried. Sometimes it's best not to wake the dead unless you plan to join them.
Add it to your Goodreads TBR here!
A native Texan, C.C. grew up either reading or playing the piano.Years later, she’s still not grown up and doing the same things. Since the voices in her head never shut up, C.C. decided to share their crazy stories and started writing books.
Now that she has a baby girl at home, C.C.’s non-writing time is usually spent cleaning up poopy diapers or feeding the poop machine.Sometimes she teaches piano, cooks, or spends time bugging her hubby and two beagles.