The Maw of Mayhem
Grimdarke James has got problems. As Vice Prez of the Maw of Mayhem MC, he needs to keep his shit together, but between the constant threat of his inner cat going feral, and Nikki, one of the motorcycle club’s mollys, blackmailing him, it’s a fine line some days.
Then when an arms deal goes bad, everything goes to hell with it. All fingers point to an old club enemy, a man Grim has reason to both fear and loathe, but the facts don’t add up, and everyone is a suspect… including Grim. Faced with the constant threat of Nikki revealing his past and his need to prove himself to the MC, the fragile peace he’s made with his cat is threatened.
Out of options and running out of time, Grim sets a bold plan into motion, and the consequences are far more dire than he could have imagined…
He stumbled to the door, eyeing Nikki through the crack as he unlatched the chain. Her eyes swept up his body, arousal tinging the air. Woman was in permanent heat, though given her age, that wasn’t surprising. Around thirty shifter women got desperate to breed, but Jesus, he didn’t want that stank in his room. He blocked her entry.
“I’m sorry, okay?” She glanced away as a door opened and shut farther down the hall. “Do we have to do this out here?”
She huffed her bangs from her eyes. Her brow furrowed, walking her fingers up his abs to the ink below his right pec and tracing the line of script. “When’d you get this one?”
“Don’t fucking touch me. If you’ve got something to say, say it.”
Her hand fell. “Look, you’re right. I was out of line down there. Disrespected you. Made you lose face in front of the club. I was just… it’s different for the women here. Harder.”
“Might be easier if you minded your place and stop pissing the ol’ ladies off.”
The rage that flashed over her face proved his cat right. This was damage control, her trying to manipulate his emotions and suck him back into her lies. He snorted, and she blinked at him, crocodile innocent again.
“We had a deal, Nikki. But all the shit you’ve been pulling is making that null and void. I’m not the only one with a past. I gave you my word, but keep it up, and I’ll have nothing to lose handing your ass over to Hellspawn.”
Her eyes narrowed at the mention of the MC down south she’d run riot through before landing here. “You wouldn’t.”
AK Nevermore enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases coffee, and gives up sarcasm for Lent every year. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’s a certified chef, restores antiques, and dabbles in beekeeping when she’s not reading voraciously or running down the dream in her beat-up camo Chucks.
Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to become medicated, she writes Science Fiction and Fantasy full time.
She pays the bills editing, wielding a wicked hot pink pen and writing a column on SFF. She also belongs to the Authors Guild, is a chapter treasurer for the RWA, teaches creative writing, and on the rare occasion, sleeps.
a Rafflecopter giveaway