Synopsis
The only thing more dangerous than the Anathema MC is the
club’s president.
Trapped.
For twenty-one years, Rose Darnell’s family dedicated their
lives to the Anathema MC. For twenty-one years, she’s searched for a way out.
Bound to a world of bloodied knuckles and drug money, Rose
believes her musical talent will rescue her from an abusive father and
overbearing brothers. A chance audition and promising gig would free Rose from
the outlaw 1%, but her brothers won’t let her escape the club’s shadow.
A rival chapter threatens Rose, and only Anathema’s
president, Thorne Radek, can protect her.
Betrayed.
A traitor lurks within Anathema’s brotherhood, and Thorne
will burn the world to scorch the rat. When an innocent diva with baby-bunny
eyes and dark secrets needs his help, Thorne offers his protection and is
rewarded with the ultimate bait. He may be the only man to distract Rose from
her music, but helping him find the traitor will damn more than the club.
It will tear her family apart.
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Excerpt
I stilled. My chest weighed heavy with silenced songs and
muted fear. I stared at Thorne, but I imagined more than just the man before
me.
In Thorne, I saw the rushing pavement barreling toward my
head.
The trail of smoke coiling from a recoiling gun.
A prince donning leathers and denim instead of a cape,
searching for the princess who left her helmet at the patch-over gala.
A monster.
A devil.
A man who made my heart pound in terror and crash against my
chest with the secrets I sang only in songs.
“Sit.”
It wasn’t a request. He didn’t stand or pull the chair out.
He didn’t wave a friendly hand. Didn’t smile.
My refusal tasted so good on my tongue I decided to keep it
clenched between my teeth. Better to let Thorne think he intimidated me than
reveal the desperation simmering in my silence.
I slid across from him. Close enough to study the worn
scratches on his vest, to sense the strength resting within his stretched-taut
shirt, and to savor the baritone of his voice harmonizing in my thoughts.
The quiet broke me. I didn’t have the courage to stare him
down, but I had more pride than to lower my head and allow his appraisal. The
breathy whisper was not the pitch I wanted, but, cast upon his altar, it was
fortunate I didn’t simply scream.
“What do you expect from me?”
Thorne’s gaze shifted over my body. “What are you offering?”
I swallowed. “Nothing.”
“What a bargain.”
“You wanted me here. I’m here.”
“Your brothers were very prompt.”
I savored a particularly harsh remark and tucked it deep
within my chest. “They kicked my door in, packed my bags, and dragged me here.”
The twitching of his lip was a remnant of a smile that might
have once been attractive—before the prison term and the violence, the
responsibilities of the club and the retaliation that consumed his every
desecrated breath.
“They always were loyal.”
“Right. After today, I’m not sure I would consider them my
brothers.”
“We’ll see.”
The weight binding my chest only constricted my words in a
hush of panic. I ignored his gaze.
“I’m not a whore,” I said.
Thorne leaned away, resting his arm on the edge of his
chair. His chest tensed, and the shirt stretched taut over his strength. The
leather cut rode stiff over his muscles.
“I didn’t call you a whore.”
“And forcing my brothers to deliver me to you? In the middle of the night? Bringing me to
your bedroom?”
“You can take your clothes off if you like. It’d make this
conversation more interesting.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you stay dressed.”
His eyes narrowed, a threat of chilled indifference. “I’m not going to
fuck you.”
I flinched at the word, but I leapt at the sincerity in his
voice.
“You aren’t?”
“Disappointed?”
About the Author
Lana Grayson was born to write anything and everything to do
with romance. Her favorite genres range from the dark and twisty to the
lighthearted and sentimental—as long as the characters are memorable, the story
is fun, and the romance is steamy. Lana lives in Pittsburgh with her husband,
and, when she isn’t bundled in her writing chair, she’s most likely cheering on
the Steelers or searching for the ‘Burgh’s best Italian restaurants.
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