Even after 110 books published, I still get excited about the release of a new one. WOLF IN THE WOODS was released earlier this month. It’s the start of a new series, but it has roots in the past.

My Salvation Pack series was a labor of love—all 9 books. Luckily for me, it’s also been a reader favorite. For years, readers have asked if there would be more books. I honestly wasn’t sure, but I always felt as though the series wasn’t complete.

Thus was born Salvation Pack: The Next Generation. I’m so excited about this new 5-book series. Each book stands alone, so if you haven’t read the original series, you can still read and enjoy the book. If you’ve read the original series, you’ll see many familiar faces. I hope my readers love this new series as much as I do.

Take a peek inside WOLF IN THE WOODS.

Wolf in the Woods
Salvation Pack: The Next Generation, Book 1

Not wanting to be forced to mate to an eligible male in her pack who won’t take no for an answer, Addie Fuller is on the run.

Billy Gallagher might be human, but he understands werewolf culture all too well after being raised in the Salvation Pack.

When their paths cross, he helps her, even knowing it will likely mean his death. He’s no match for a full-blooded male wolf. A short, brutal fight, leaves him near death and Addie fighting to save his life.

He recovers, but he’s not the same man he was. The one thing he does know for sure—he and Addie are meant to be together. All he has to do is convince her of that and deal with the threat looming over them.

Excerpt from Wolf in the Woods…

So much blood.

He flinched at the pressure and gave a moan of pain but didn’t tell her to stop. He had to know just how bad the situation was. He licked his lips, his breathing labored. “Gear.” His fingers uncurled and pointed to the right.

She jumped up and raced in that direction, inhaling deeply to find his scent. His knapsack was partially hidden under a short pine tree. With shaky hands, she grabbed it and hurried back.

“I’ve got it.” Adrenaline pumped through her veins, allowing her to focus past her own pain. She ignored the gashes in her stomach. Her werewolf metabolism was already working to heal them. They weren’t as deep as they could have been. He wasn’t so fortunate. She opened the bag and dug out a long-sleeved flannel shirt. It would do for a makeshift bandage. She ripped the arms off and then folded the rest into a thick padding.

I don’t know how to do this. This was beyond anything in her experience. Werewolves healed naturally, for the most part, and she’d never been around anyone who’d been this seriously injured.

I have to clean the wound first. Fear was making her sweat. She swiped her forearm over her forehead.

You can do this. She didn’t have a choice. The alternative was to just let him die.

*~*~*

Want to read more? You can find WOLF IN THE WOODS here:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09K6TDQ3H/
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Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/wolf-in-the-woods-2
Evernight Publishing: https://www.evernightpublishing.com/wolf-in-the-woods-by-n-j-walters/

About the Author

N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, assassins, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.

Visit me at:
Website: http://www.njwalters.com
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Ideas for this story rolled around in my head for years before I started trying to write it. I am one of those who learned to hide under my schoolroom desk in case of an atomic bomb attack, so yeah, that kind of gives away my age group. When I met the right guy and we wanted to start a family, we still had that idea of an imminent attack. So we grew our own food and stored salt and prepared in a hundred other ways to ensure our survival when doomsday arrived.

I’m happy to say that the Cold War ended, and we’ve (hopefully) moved away from someone’s finger hovering over the red button that would start a nuclear war. But that threat remains, as well as many other newer threats, and not all of them caused by a political adversary. Nature has a whole bundle of tricks up her sleeve as well.

What happens if/when the power goes out, not for an hour or a day, but for weeks—or longer? What happens if our cars don’t work? I wanted to explore these ideas—and somehow make it a romance.

There’s nothing new about a massive earthquake in the Los Angeles area, but every time that story is told, there’s an annoying focus on the adventure aspect of it, people dying, sirens wailing, etc. I wanted to create a romance forced by circumstance. I also wanted to delve deep into what it would mean to do away with conveniences like electricity and transportation. I tossed it all in and stirred.

Refuge in His Arms is the result, and I’m proud to say it’s a compelling story with circumstances based fully in scientific facts. It’s also rich with the sensual connections between two people who had to come a long way together, figuratively and literally.

Right now, the book is FREE in Kindle Unlimited. Take advantage of this countdown deal to grab your copy for as low as 99 cents. The deal runs from November 24 through November 30, and if you know about countdown deals, you know that the 99 cent price won’t last long.

Refuge in His Arms

Strangers meet in a cataclysmic crisis and despite their prickly acquaintance, circumstances force them to cooperate. Not what Mackenzie expected or ever wanted. Not what David could have ever imagined, and yet here they are fleeing Los Angeles together. Bad turns to worse as a geomagnetic storm wipes out the power grid and stops the car, leaving them stranded in Flagstaff.

In this journey in search of food and shelter with her faithful German Shepherd Captain by her side, Mackenzie Kilpatrick denies her attraction to this man. He’s forced himself on her, an opportunist who only needs what she has. He might be the most gorgeous man she’s ever seen, and he might have hidden talents, but she’s totally not interested. Is she?

Tumbling down from his rock star success, David Evans thought he’d found bottom. But this is worse, dependent for his very survival on an angry woman who barely tolerates him. He’s hanging on, trying to do right, but how can he ever meet her impossible standards? He just wants to hold her, wrap his arms around her and ease her pain.

Is there a place for them to find safety?

Get your copy!

Excerpt from Refuge in His Arms…

They spent the rest of the morning gathering wood from a few vacant areas surrounding the shopping center, piling it on either side of the spot Mackenzie deemed best for a fire. David settled into his assigned role as helper, convinced that if he expressed his concerns or ideas, she’d send him away. Did that make him a weakling? The way he saw it, he didn’t have much choice. Every time he caught her looking at him, she was frowning like he was so much excess baggage.

Maybe that was her default attitude, all hostile and wound up tight. He’d like to unwind her, button by button until her delectable body stretched out before him like a feast of epicurean proportions. He already knew she’d taste delicious, those long legs spread open to reveal the soft pink folds of her intimate womanhood. Damn. Why did his mind conjure up such fantasies when his rational mind knew there wasn’t a chance in hell of making it reality? He shifted the load of dead brush in his arms in order to adjust the pressure on the front of his jeans.

The place she designated for the fire sat halfway between two small trees in the median near her car. No chance of fire spreading from there. Plus it was near enough to the car they didn’t have to shuttle supplies very far. He spent an hour gathering rocks to create a decent boundary for the fire.

Memories flashed, times he’d visited his grandparents’ farm when he was little, a rundown place somewhere in Kentucky. His granddad took him fishing at the pond, and he’d proudly come home with a catfish. Step by step, Granddad showed him how to gut and fillet that fish with a knife that had been sharpened so many times the blade was razor thin. They’d built a fire in an outdoor fire pit. The fish sizzled in a big iron skillet as the flames twisted and curled, orange and red, his granddad squatting beside him. Even without words, they shared something important, watching that fire. That fish tasted better than anything he’d ever put in his mouth.

He loved those people. They didn’t live in a fancy house. His mom smiled there and in some of his earliest memories, his dad had helped Grandpa out in the barn, working on an old car. They had a garden, chickens, and a hog with a bunch of little piglets running around. If he was there now, he’d figure it out. Do things. But he was in fucking Arizona in the middle of a parking lot, his future entirely too dependent on a woman who apparently wished he’d disappear. If this woman needed to keep him at arm’s length, he’d do it just to survive. If he pushed his luck with this crazy attraction he felt, he would end up alone.

He sighed and stood up to squint at the sky. “About noon.”

She glanced at her watch and looked at him with a strange expression. “Noon.”

Whatever that meant, he didn’t try to figure out. After her comment about a husband, as if she didn’t still have a husband—well, he had an idea that the man had died and she had shut down. Not something he could ask about. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, sorry for what she must have suffered, still suffered, this woman with the sad luminous eyes.

They knocked then waited at the side door of the supermarket. Sun beat down, baking the top of his head and searing his shoulders through the shirt. A black t-shirt was definitely not the ideal garment for standing in full August sunlight even if it was threadbare. His skin prickled as sweat rolled down his sides.

They knocked twice again.

“Do you think there’s someone in there?” he said finally.

She looked up at him. Streaks of amber and black shot through her brown irises. How had he not noticed the thick fringe of long dark lashes or the expressive narrow eyebrows, one of which now cocked as she glared at him.

“Did you have an appointment somewhere?” she asked.

He exhaled. “Christ, you’re hard to deal with.”

“No one is forcing you to be here.”

“Yeah, someone is. You. You think I could walk away from you, leave you here with your dog and your stuff and no one to help you?”

“You mean, walk away from your only resource? Someone who has food and water and a safe place to sleep?”

He wanted to punch something. His fist opened and closed. Was she right? Was it all about him? “That’s not why I want to be here.”

“Bullshit.” She knocked again, slamming the side of her fist against the metal door.

“Not bullshit,” he said, straightening his shoulders as anger rose up his spine. He’d just about had it with her insults. “You may think you’ve got it all figured out, but you need me, and lady, if you don’t know that, then part of your brain isn’t working. You’ve needed me since you got stuck between that lamp post and the fence.”

Her eyes blazed as she rested her fists on her hips. “I could have handled that on my own. You were looking for a way out of there.”

“I didn’t have to choose between trying to salvage every fucking thing I own and going along to help you.”

“No, you absolutely did not.”

“Or leave behind every professional contact, every hope for a future.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You probably didn’t have any hope of a future or you wouldn’t have been so quick about leaving.”

Her words hit him like a fist to bone. He sucked in air, momentarily speechless. This was what he couldn’t do, and here he was, standing in the boiling sun in a sparring match with the only person who could help him. A real bitch. Maybe he should walk away. He could find another way.

“Fuck you,” he said harshly. “You know nothing about me. I’m trying to be nice.”

The slightest flash of concern crossed her face. Or maybe he imagined it. How bad did he need her, really? There were a thousand other women he could charm in this town alone.

“Just pointing out the facts,” she said. “Sorry if you don’t want to hear it.”

She folded her arms across her chest and turned to face the door. Her shoulders looked almost fragile under that thin shirt, reminding him of a wounded animal that would bite you before it would let you help it. He wanted to grasp those shoulders, pull her back against his chest, and whisper comforting words in her ears, stroke her hair until she calmed and relaxed.

Which was fucking ridiculous, because she’d just find a way to throw that back in his face, accuse him of trying to manipulate her or some other selfish motive. He could read the anger in her frame, right down to the tense angle of her lovely neck.

*~*~*

PLEASE HELP! This book needs reviews. Load up your friends for a holiday read-fest and knock this one out of the park! And, as ever, a big THANK YOU from Liz!

UPDATE: The winner is…Colleen C!
*~*~*

My love of historical fiction springs from the nexus of where imagination meets fact. Through her time-telescope book, Jubilee, poet author Margaret Walker hurls me back in time to the American Civil War as experienced by a slave family based on the life of her great-grandmother. James Michener does the same on the multicultural history of Colorado in Centennial. My erotic historicals don’t come anywhere near the scope of these sagas, yet in “The Patience of Unanswered Prayer” imagination meets fact as it does in Walker’s and Michener’s work.

As he brings my heroine Eleanor Taylor to safety, my hero Franklin Adams muses on family life that could have been his but for slavery. I created this life for him, i.e., the backstory of his ancestors in Africa from my research. The image above is from the New York Public Library’s Schomburg digital collection. It shows an African man feeding cattle. Michael Grauer, the McCasland Chair of Cowboy Culture and Curator of Cowboy Collections and Western Art at the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum, in Oklahoma City is quoted as saying “cowboy traditions originated in Africa, where cattle herders would rope cattle on foot, and the likes of the Maasai people drove them toward better lands for grazing.”

My research for this story also found that while Blacks enjoyed more respect and freedom driving cattle in the West, they rarely rose to trail boss or foreman. Yet reading about Bose Ikard, one of the most famous Black Texas frontiersmen and trail drivers, I learned this former slave, who worked on several of the Goodnight-Loving cattle drives, was so trustworthy Charles Goodnight often put him in charge of the cash collected at the end of the trail. Thus, I created Franklin, also a former slave, with an ancestral knowledge of the best way to handle cattle and equally trusted like Ikard. My imagination met these two facts and created one of those rare exceptions: a Black trail boss.

Other famous Black Westerners could have been models for Franklin as well. One was former slave Nat Love, also known as Deadwood Dick, who worked for large cattle spreads in Texas and Arizona. He recounts his life in his autobiography, The Life and Adventures of Nat Love. Another could have been Bill Pickett who is credited with creating bulldogging. While these facts did not meet imagination in my present story, I can easily see how they might in future ones.

So for a chance at a $10 Amazon gift card, share in the comments some interesting piece of history that may have sparked your imagination.

“The Patience of Unanswered Prayer”
in Cowboys: A Boys Behaving Badly Anthology

A feisty businesswoman about to become the next victim of Post-Civil War revenge receives rescue from an unexpected source

Excerpt from “The Patience of Unanswered Prayer”…

She prayed Flyte would ungag her quickly, prayed her gut was right that he wasn’t party to whatever Radcliffe had planned.

Flyte pulled down the gag.

“He’s going to kill me,” she rasped, her mouth free of the loathsome muzzle. “You have to stop him.”

“Kill you?” Flyte blenched. “He’s done this for your safety.”

“Taking me the long way round to Darlington City in the dead of night is for my safety?”

“A mob was waiting to lynch you.”

“You know that’s not true. Radcliffe trumped up these charges against me to put me at his mercy.”

“Gordon Daniels brought the charges against you.”

“At Radcliffe’s urging. Daniels is ex-Confederate and can’t cotton any Black—man or woman—doing better than Whites.”

“Why would the sheriff do that? He’s an ex-Yankee who hates confederates like Daniels.”

“Radcliffe hates me more. He wants revenge on me for rebuffing his attentions.”

“I can’t believe—” Flyte paused, then looked thoughtful. A frown filled his face. “Yet…”

His hesitation gave her hope. Her gut tensed, and her heart beat until her chest hurt.

“You know full well taking me from jail is either foolishness or mischief.”

The cock of a gun hammer turned them both in the same direction.

*~*~*

Buy link: Amazon – https://amzn.to/3iwUhkN
Michal Scott Amazon Author Page – https://amzn.to/2TSHzRn
Website: www.michalscott.webs.com

If you could have more than one hot boyfriend, why wouldn’t you?

This is a question Emilia finds herself confronting by the end of Rook’s Palace, but before that, she’s already had to go through a lot. Her adventure starts out with a house-sitting gig. The house is more of a fake castle, so that is weird, but she can roll with that. But then, a video game turns on by itself, and Emilia gets sucked into the game.

She knows there is a way to finish the virtual reality adventure: free a vampire prince from his tower prison. She also knows that to get there, she will have to, erm, lose some of the scant lace clothing the game provides her with. As Emilia advances in the game, she begins to understand that it is not really a game at all, but a prison designed to look like a magical palace.

The five monsters Emilia meets don’t just get under her very short skirt but also under her skin, and Emilia decides that she will free them all. It is easier said than done, because the creator of the game doesn’t want his prisoners to escape.

Rook’s Palace has plenty of action: the running kind, and the gasping and moaning kind. And of course, you won’t have to pick a favorite love interest—you get to have all the five monsters on offer.

Rook’s Palace (Her Five Monsters 1)

Release Date: Nov 12, 2021

Drawn into a video game, Emilia falls for five sexy monsters and wonders if the game is real after all.

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3FUGn5P
Kobo: https://bit.ly/3vmvHI2
Barnes & Noble: https://bit.ly/3aPPw0Y
Apple: https://apple.co/3G0cEZa
Changeling: https://bit.ly/3bv88nj

Emilia is excited to start a house-sitting job, even if the house is creepy and more than a little on the odd side — as odd as the owner’s requests. When she finds an unusual gaming console, she is drawn into a lusty video game in which she crosses paths with five inhuman creatures. She is drawn to them all, but when the five men keep telling her that the game is very much not what it seems, Emilia realizes she can no longer play along.

As the path she follows offers not just desire and intense experiences but also sadness, cruelty, and hurt around every bend, Emilia’s resolve firms: she will free the five men, who tell her they are already a family, already lovers. Whatever she has grown to feel for them, she cannot let them suffer if saving them is within her power.

With the rules of a game she doesn’t understand forcing her to play along, Emilia must find a way to get to the end of the game and get everyone out — whatever the cost. The freedom of her five monsters depends on her.

Excerpt from Rook’s Place…

Copyright ©2021 Alexa Piper

Another flash of silver washed over Emilia just as she was about to follow a hallway that curved to the left. The lightning dyed the way straight ahead in gray, and at the end of it, she saw a door. The door was closed, unlike all the other doors on the first floor, so Emilia decided to try it. After all, if Blakely wants the shutters of his game room closed, it makes sense he’d keep the door closed as well, she thought.

A few steps in and with her arms out in front of her, Emilia touched the door and felt for the knob. She turned. The door opened, its hinges soundless. The room she saw beyond was the game room indeed. Emilia searched for a light switch instinctively, even though light fell in through the windows, some of which had their shutters shifted open by the wind. Emilia could make out a billiard table, a card table, shelves with games, and a large television set. She stopped looking for a light switch when she saw that, because the TV gleamed faintly.

“What the…” Emilia walked toward the large screen. She was pretty sure that no one else was here besides her. “Mr. Blakely?” she said. Maybe he’d cancelled her services after all, although she would have expected him to send her an email at least. “Hello?” she said, louder.

Emilia looked around, and finally spotted the light panel, higher up than she’d tried. She hit the switch, and the light that filled the room left no shadows for anyone to hide within them. The TV, though, was definitely on.

“Maybe the thunderstorm got you to work?” Emilia said and walked toward it. As she did, she noticed blinking lights from the shelf underneath it. There were several gaming consoles there, new ones she was familiar with. But those weren’t the ones that blinked at her, no.

The console that had caught Emilia’s attention was an oval design, smooth silver. She touched the casing, and found that it was warm, polished metal rather than plastic, with a smaller oval display set in the middle. As soon as her fingers brushed against the console, the display lit up with words.

“Play me? Huh,” Emilia said. “You’re strange. How do I play you?” she asked. There was no controller anywhere that she could see. The other wireless ones were neatly lined up beneath their respective console, but this oddity…

The screen brightened, and the words play me blinked at Emilia.

“Right. I want to.” She turned to look around. On the table behind her, on the chairs, there was no controller in sight either, nor did her search reveal one behind the cushions. Shrugging, Emilia hit the screen on the console. She felt the slight give of a button. “Ah.”

The television set flickered to life, and a suitably eerie voice echoed to Emilia from hidden speakers.

“Welcome to the Rook’s Palace,” said a male narrator. On the screen, the camera was following a path through a thicket of trees. It wound toward a castle that rose like a waking dragon in the distance.

“Wow, this looks super HD,” Emilia said. She pulled one of the floor cushions stacked to the right of the TV toward her and sat down cross-legged.

“Brave traveler, you have chosen to walk the paths to the palace, but beware,” said the narrator. “These paths are full of the pleasures of the flesh, and none that walk them may escape the lust and desire of those who call the palace their home.

“Traveler, should you choose to continue, there is a mission you must carry out.” The screen washed out, the scene shifting from the outdoors to a room. It could have been a room right here in Blakely’s castle. As the camera did a slow turn, Emilia gasped a little as a tall, dark-haired figure came into view. At that exact moment, the man turned and looked at the camera, almost as if he’d heard Emilia’s gasp. His dark hair ran down his back, and he wore what was probably supposed to be some sort of stylized Victorian garb. The pants were tight enough to show off muscular legs, and the pressed white shirt with the silver buttons — half of which were undone — showed a broad chest and a narrow waist. The man, whose hair trailed down to the small of his back and half hid his face, looked straight at the camera. His eyes were the color of amethyst, and a wild emotion stirred in their depth for a second before the man shut it down.

“Lord Radovan, the vampire prince, has been hidden away in the palace’s highest tower. Traveler, if you dare, it is your mission to free Lord Radovan from his captivity.”

Emilia wanted to look at this strange vampire prince more. The video quality was good, uncannily so, everything looked real. It was almost like all she had to do was reach out her hand, and she’d be able to touch the amethyst-eyed vampire prince.

Emilia lifted her right hand, but before she could actually try reaching for the vampire, the camera moved. It went for a window and flew straight out, down toward a hedge maze.

“The palace grounds are full of riddles and challenges. Those who guard the path and the palace will not be assuaged by anything less than taking pleasure in your body, Traveler,” the narrator said. “They will demand you give yourself to them, and if they have no mouth or know not how to use it, they will take pleasure on you regardless, split you open and fill you with their need.”

Emilia felt like she should be taking notes for her chat room work. This was good enough to make warmth run down her spine, to make her shift a little on her floor cushion.

“Traveler, if you wish to proceed to the Rook’s Palace, you must consent now to have your body used. On the path to the Palace, your body will be your token. If you dare not, you may turn back, though you will never know what pleasures hide behind these walls. If you consent, your pleasure will end only once Lord Radovan is set free from his tower.”

The maze opened up to the path again, and the camera rushed back to the spot it had first been in, the one with trees to either side of it. Words wrote themselves across the screen.

“Traveler, do you consent?” it read. “Say yes, and proceed. Say no, and never return.”

Once more, Emilia looked for a controller. The button she’d pushed on the console had gone dark now. She looked back up at the screen…

About Alexa Piper

Alexa Piper writes steamy romance that ranges from light to dark, from straight to queer. She’s also a coffee addict. Alexa loves writing stories that make her readers laugh and fall in love with the characters in them.

Connect with Alexa: https://linktr.ee/AlexaPiper

Who doesn’t love to romanticize the past, especially when we’re reading historical romance?  We forgot about flushing toilets, dental floss, shampoo and conditioner, and food we can buy at a store.  Well, Edie Whitecrow, my heroine from Born for This, book one in the Maizemerized series, is no different.  She’s so obsessed with her Ojibway ancestors.  So obsessed that her major in university is Indigenous studies.  Edie’s mother hoped she’d outgrow the obsession, but the older Edie becomes, the more she needs to feed her obsession.

If anyone saw a corn maze where it shouldn’t be, I think we’d all stop to check it out—especially if there is a live scarecrow beckoning us to him.  Mandaamin is the Corn Spirit of the Ojibway people, a powerful being who sacrificed himself long ago so the People could live and feed from the maize he offered.  It is he who tells Edie to enter the maze and her biggest dream will come true.

I think we all know what Edie’s biggest dream is:  to go back in time and witness her ancestors in their true environment.

I, along with three other author friends, kicked around the idea of a scarecrow and a corn maze that coincided with the spookiest night of the year—Halloween.  This is the inspiration for my latest release.  Being Ojibway, myself, and exclusively writing romance about Canada’s First People, I knew I could come up with something special that complemented my author brand.  Thus, Born for This was…born.

Today, is release day.  Yay.  And you can purchase Born for This at eXtasy Books.  While you’re there, take advantage of the sale happening until November 30, 2021.  You can purchase my backlist (excludes new releases and book bundles) at 40% off.

Born for This – Maizemerized, Book One

She’s always been obsessed with her ancestors, and now he’s offering her a chance to live with them…forever.

Second-year university student Edie Whitecrow gobbles up each course on Indigenous studies.  If only she could experience the lives of her Anishinaabe ancestors instead of reading about them.  On her way to a Halloween party decked out as a historical Ojibway maiden, she spies a corn maze in a spot known to be barren.

A scarecrow figure beckons Edie to enter with the enticing offer of making her biggest wish come true.  She jumps at the chance and finds herself in the past, face to face with the man who haunts her dreams—the handsome brave Thunder Bear.  He claims he’s spent twelve years waiting for Gitche Manidoo to send her to him.

Life in the eighteenth century isn’t what Edie romanticized about, though.  When her conscience is tested, she must choose between the modern-day or the world of her descendants—where the man she was created for resides.

Excerpt from Born for This…

One headlight, probably from a motorcycle, appeared behind her. The weather was unusually warm for the end of October, but driving a bike at this time of the year was rather brave.

Edie adjusted her rearview mirror to block out the light, although the driver used his low beam. She also slowed to let him safely pass. Maybe he was a partygoer, making his way to the Halloween bash. Or he could’ve crossed the international bridge in Rainy River, an American coming from Baudette. Or he could be a Canadian approaching from the town of Fort Frances.

The engine of the bike didn’t possess the distinct sound of a Harley Davidson, nor did the sporting and athletic roar resemble the high squeal of the Asian-made racing machines. Whatever he drove was loud enough to cut into her music.

He was by her side. She stole a quick peek out the side window at a helmeted silhouette of black.

He also turned his head.

Déjà vu was a hidden being lurking in the backseat, its claws settling on Edie’s shoulders. For a moment, her heart stood still. The haunting dream since she was but a child unfurled through her brain—a strong hand possessing long fingers stretching to reach hers, and a man’s black, narrow eyes staring through the mist.

Edie swatted the air, shooing away the crazy thought. The guy on the motorcycle was simply passing her on the highway. But his continuous attention opened up a discomforting twitch at the back of her neck.

With a tilt of his helmet, he whizzed past her. The bike slid from the left lane and into the right. He was moving so fast that his taillight quickly vanished into the night. The man had better slow down. In the fall, deer tended to pop up out of nowhere.

Edie sank further in her seat and tapped her nail on the steering wheel. He couldn’t be a partygoer. From what she’d spied, there’d been no costume draping his masculine silhouette. Or maybe he was the man hidden in the mist, stretching his hand to hers, giving her a glimpse of his long nose, thin lips, and razor-cutting cheekbones.

Get real. If Mom snuck into your thoughts, for the bazillionth time, she’d tell you to get out of your imagination and quit thinking about the old days.

She bounced her left foot in beat to the song. Maybe Mom was right. Edie’s obsession with their ancestors must stop. Fat chance of that happening because her BA major was Indigenous Studies. Plus, what was wrong about wishing for a life amongst her relations from long ago?

The corner of her eye caught the moonlight shining down on a…corn maze.

*~*~*

Want to read more?  Go ahead and purchase a copy at eXtasy Books.

About the Author

An Ojibway from Northwestern Ontario, Maggie resides in the country with her husband and their fur babies, two beautiful Alaskan Malamutes.  When she’s not writing, she can be found pulling weeds in the flower beds, mowing the huge lawn, walking the Mals deep in the bush, teeing up a ball at the golf course, fishing in the boat for walleye, or sitting on the deck at her sister’s house, making more wonderful memories with the people she loves most.

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For readers who are familiar with my work, you know I don’t shy away from harder topics. If you’re looking for a sweet, fluffy romance, you aren’t going to find it here. What you’ll get are alpha men who go after what they want, women who are stronger than they give themselves credit for, and some darker topics like child abuse, assault, human trafficking, and murder. Not necessarily all in the same book.

What types of heroes do I write most often? Bikers who might have a hard exterior, but when it comes to those they love, or women and children in need, they’re complete softies on the inside. In the case of Samurai, you’ll find out why he’s got such a hard exterior, and it’s a rather difficult topic to cover. This book does come with a reader advisory, and for good reason. Samurai suffered trauma in his past that has shaped who he is today. In the previous books, you’ve not received so much as a hint as to what’s driving Samurai, so be prepared for a curveball with this one!

Readers first met Samurai in the earlier Devil’s Boneyard MC books, when he was a prospect known as Jin. Now he’s all grown up and battling demons who seem to be getting the best of him. Until sweet Grey comes along and is far more understanding than he could have ever hoped for.

Samurai (Devil’s Boneyard MC)

 Author: Harley Wylde
Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Release Date: October 22, 2021
Genres/Themes: MC Romance, Romantic Suspense, Multicultural/Interracial

Grey — Desperate times call for desperate measures, otherwise, I’d have never signed a contract with Knox’s Pleasure Emporium. Selling myself for a few hours once is far better than my other option — letting my mother’s loan shark use me however he sees fit in order to recoup his money. I can’t even be angry with my mom since she’s no longer with us. She did what she’d thought was best at the time, but now I’m paying the price.

I didn’t count on a biker changing my life forever. Not only did we have a slight miscommunication that ended up leaving me with an eighteen-year commitment, but he’s my only hope of escaping my son’s father. Why do I keep getting tangled up with bad boys? It never ends well for me.

Samurai — I can admit my past has left me screwed up. I’d never thought I’d pay to be with a woman, but not just anyone can handle my needs. The little goddess I purchased isn’t anything like I expected. The way she gives into me so sweetly, and comes apart in my arms, makes it damn hard to forget her when our time is over. I didn’t realize I’d be seeing her again, under less than favorable circumstances.

She needs my protection. What do I do? Act like a bastard and call her names. Not my finest moment. Now I need to fix things before my cousin, Phantom, decides to step in and claim her for himself. I might have some issues to work through, but Grey is mine, and no one is taking her from me. Not Phantom, and not the man threatening Grey and Ryo. Because once I’m in, I’m all in.

WARNING: There are scenes with bad language, adult situations, violence, and talk of abuse that may bother some readers. No cheating. No cliffhanger. And a guaranteed happily-ever-after. Samurai is part of the Devil’s Boneyard MC series. While the series may best be enjoyed in order, each book can be read as a stand-alone.

Get it here 👇
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2ZyYIEA
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/3FihQqN
Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/3uQ8IF5
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/3DcA9Mi
Apple Books: https://apple.co/2XXtFl6
B&N Nook: https://bit.ly/3zPcUps
Kobo: https://bit.ly/3uoISHX

☠ TRIGGER WARNING ☠

WHAT REVIEWERS ARE SAYING…

“Wow….I’m not sure I will be able to find the words to give this one justice… I can’t even express how much I love this story!” – Shelby, Goodreads

“This story will take you on a journey that will break you apart and then put you back together in a way that you don’t expect. Samurai and Grey embarked on a raw and emotional ride that started some healing that both of them deserved. This is a powerful, strong, meaningful and heartfelt story. I enjoyed every single second of this book.” – Drea, BookBub

“Another brilliant read from Harley Wylde. Samurai and Grey’s book is on point. I highly recommend this. You have to binge and read all her books. I have not come across a bad one.” – Alice, Goodreads

“Samurai took me completely by surprise, I couldn’t be happier that he did! These two are just perfect for each other, I fell in love with them both. All the stars for Grey and Samurai” – Leslee, Goodreads

“I absolutely loved Samurai and Grey. Their story was so emotional.” – Tanya, BookBub

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Harley Wylde

I didn’t want to be here. I had a feeling this would end badly, but I didn’t know what else to do. Ryo clutched my hand and I shifted from one foot to the other while the guy behind the gate looked me over. His gaze landed on Ryo and his eyes slightly widened as he took a step back.

“You said Samurai?” he asked. “Not Phantom?”

I didn’t know who Phantom was, or why this man would think I didn’t know who to ask for. Clearly I’d come here for a reason. Did women show up and get the men confused on a regular basis? I wasn’t sure how to take that.

“Samurai.” I took a step closer. “Please. It’s important.”

His gaze dropped to Ryo again. “I bet it is.”

I breathed a sigh of relief when he opened the gates and let us through. At least we’d made it this far. Samurai might very well tell me get to lost and never show my face here again. At least I’d get the chance to find out.

He pointed to a building not too far off. “He’s probably at the clubhouse. But um… you may not want to take the kid inside there. It’s not too wild at this time of day. Doesn’t mean people aren’t smoking, or that he wouldn’t see something he shouldn’t.”

Right. Because I was at a biker compound. Who knew what went on behind the gate, much less in the building he’d called a clubhouse. I doubted they were in there playing video games or watching movies.

“I can’t leave Ryo outside on his own,” I said.

The guy looked around and let out a shrill whistle. “Hey, Sam! Lady needs her kid watched for a minute.”

The other man jogged over. I noticed both wore the leather vest like Samurai had, but neither had a name on theirs. It only said Prospect. I had no idea what that meant, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

“Sam, this is…” The guy rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “Sorry. Didn’t catch your name.”

“I’m Grey and this is Ryo,” I said.

He nodded. “Right. Grey and Ryo. She’s here to see Samurai.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose as he stared at Ryo a moment. “All right. I can sit outside with him, or I can go in and get Samurai. Might be better to have him come outside.”

“Going inside doesn’t bother me,” I said. “But he said it wouldn’t be a good place for Ryo.”

Sam shook his head. “No, I have a feeling Samurai would kick my aa… uh, rear, if I let either of you into that building. You can sit in the shade. There’s a few chairs up on the porch.”

I led Ryo over to the building and claimed a chair while Sam went inside. I could hear laughter and music spill from the open doorway, as well as the sounds of women. My stomach soured when I pictured Samurai with them. It was stupid to come here. He wouldn’t want this baby, or me. Wouldn’t care about my problems or that my son was in danger.

I stood and lifted Ryo into my arms. “Come on, sweetheart. We shouldn’t have come here. We’ll go home and figure something else out.”

I walked down the steps and toward the gate, but the guy who’d let me in was shaking his head and pointing back at the clubhouse. “Nope. Sorry. I’m not letting you leave until you see Samurai.”

“Are you serious right now? It’s obvious I made a mistake coming here. Let me go before he comes out and…”

I heard heavy steps behind me and stopped mid-sentence. My nape prickled and I had a feeling the man in question was right behind me. Ryo’s head remained tucked against my chest, and I tightened my hold on him. If I’d had anyone to watch him, or felt safe leaving him behind, I wouldn’t have brought him with me.

“Before I come out and what?” Samurai asked. I’d recognize his voice anywhere.

Slowly, I turned to face him. He rocked back on his heels, his gaze going to Ryo. “Sorry to disappoint, but no fucking way that kid is mine. Your math is off by a few years.”

“I never said he was yours.” I backed up a step. “I needed help, but I shouldn’t have come here. He won’t open the gate and let me leave.”

Samurai’s gaze went over my shoulder and I saw him scanning the road. I knew what he’d see. Nothing. I didn’t have a car or any other transportation. I had to walk everywhere and coming way out here hadn’t been easy on either me or Ryo. Thankfully the weather had cooled a little, so I at least didn’t have my clothes and hair plastered to me from sweat. Could have been worse.

“You walked here carrying him?” he asked.

“Yes, and if you’ll tell him to let me go, then I’ll walk right back home. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Why did you?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

I shifted Ryo in my arms and felt my dress pull tight over my stomach. I tried to hide the small bump before he noticed and seemed to have managed since he didn’t say anything. Or maybe he didn’t care. This version of Samurai was very different from the one at the Pleasure Emporium. The man who’d made me cry out his name, who’d melted my bones with multiple orgasms, wasn’t the one eying me now.

“Some people in town have talked about the good things your club does. Toy drives and helping homeless women. I’d hoped you might know of a way to solve my problem, but it was wrong to even ask.”

“You sure the kid isn’t Phantom’s?” the guy at the gate asked.

Samurai’s eyes narrowed as he studied Ryo. The look he slid my way held a hint of hostility. I didn’t know why they kept bringing up Phantom.

“I’ve never met anyone named Phantom,” I said. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“He’s my older cousin, and your son resembles him,” Samurai said.

I didn’t want to do this out in the open, or where Ryo could hear, so I chose my words carefully. “Do you remember my first reaction to you, and why I said it happened?”

His chin went up and he cursed softly. “The guy who hurt you. The one you said was Japanese, like me.”

I ran my hand over Ryo’s hair. “He saw me last week, with Ryo. He knows, and he… he said he’s coming for us. I survived him once. Even if I could live through it again, I won’t let him get his hands on Ryo. My baby is a good boy. He’s sweet and innocent. If Itachi gets his hands on him…”

“Itachi Suzuki?” Sam asked. “That’s who you’re running from?”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.

When Harley’s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.

The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing.

You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you’re there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!

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