Reaper’s Fall is the newest
standalone in the Reaper's MC Series.
Painter & Melanie's story is FINALLY here!
Available at the following
retailers:
Blurb
The New York Times
bestselling author of Reaper’s Stand is back in her “uber-alpha rough
world of MCs”* as one woman’s future is rocked by the man whose hardcore past
could destroy her…
He never meant to hurt her.
Levi “Painter” Brooks was nothing before he
joined the Reapers motorcycle club. The day he patched in, they became his
brothers and his life. All they asked in return was a strong arm and
unconditional loyalty—a loyalty that’s tested when he’s caught and sentenced to
prison for a crime committed on their behalf.
Melanie Tucker may have had a rough start, but
along the way she’s learned to fight for her future. She’s escaped from hell
and started a new life, yet every night she dreams of a biker whose touch she
can’t forget. It all started out so innocently—just a series of letters to a
lonely man in prison. Friendly. Harmless. Safe.
Now Painter Brooks is coming home… and Melanie’s
about to learn that there’s no room for innocence in the Reapers MC.
Excerpt
“You want to watch a movie or
something?” she asked, nodding toward the TV. I had a decent one, too.
Giant-ass flat-screen—homecoming present from the club.
“Sure,” I said, reaching for
the remote. I didn’t have cable, but Ruger had set up some kind of box thingie
for me so I could stream shit. “Whatcha in the mood for?”
“Not horror,” she said
quickly, and I laughed again, remembering that first evening I’d spent with her
at Pic’s house. She’d been so young and scared and vulnerable . . . I’d wanted
to eat her up.
I still wanted to eat her.
“I can’t believe that you and
Puck were supposed to be watching over me, and then you put in a slasher movie.
That’s not how you make a girl feel safe.”
“No horror,” I agreed,
although the thought of holding her for a couple hours while she was scared
shitless appealed way more than it should. Watch it, asshole. “How about Star
Wars?”
“You like Star Wars?”
I shrugged. “Everyone likes
Star Wars. You know, I’m pretty damned sure Han Solo was a biker.”
She giggled. “You mean, like a
space biker?”
“See, when you say it like
that it sounds stupid.”
“I wanted to be Princess Leia.
She’s badass,” she said, taking a deep drink of her beer. I watched as her lips
wrapped around the neck, her throat swallowing. Oh fuck, that was good. She set
the beer down on the coffee table with a clink, then let loose with the biggest
burp I’d ever heard.
“Fucking hell,” I said,
stunned. “I didn’t think girls could burp like that. Shit. Impressive, Mel.
Very impressive.”
She grinned at me.
“We’re friends,” she told me.
“And friends don’t need to worry about stuff like that. Let me guess—you’ve
never had a female friend before?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “I’m
think I’m a little scared.”
Scared and turned on, which
was weird.
“You should be. I can do the
whole alphabet.”
Damn. I kinda wanted to see
that.
About the Author:
Joanna
Wylde is a New York Times bestselling author and creator of the Reapers
Motorcycle Club series. She currently lives in Idaho.
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