I'm so excited to be part of another launch in Cat Johnson's Hot SEALs Kindle World! My contribution is MY SEAL BODYGUARD!

She writes about danger for a living, but now she's in it. Only a Navy SEAL can save her.

When someone breaks into romance author Peyton Matthews’ Virginia Beach home to steal her newest manuscript, her publisher hires Noah Chase, a former Navy SEAL and the newest member of GAPS to be her bodyguard.

Peyton thinks the idea of needing a bodyguard is ridiculous, but she can’t help appreciating how gorgeous Noah is. And while she thought that having a stranger hanging around 24/7 would mess with her creativity, the Navy SEAL definitely comes in handy when she’s choreographing fight scenes. All that hand-to-hand action and rolling around on the floor with him gets her pulse racing, but while Noah is falling for Peyton too, he doesn’t act on it. He needs to keep his head in the game and focus on the job or he could end up getting her killed. She might not think she’s in danger, but his gut tells him differently.

The threat to Peyton is closer to home than she realizes however, and it will take all of Noah’s SEAL training to save her life.


Peyton didn’t even realize they’d been sitting on the couch talking for well over three hours until she caught a glimpse of her watch as she reached for the iced tea she’d switched to sometime during the conversation.

Noah must have seen her surprise. “Something wrong?”

She shook her head. “No. I just didn’t realize it was so late.”

He glanced at his watch, his eyes going a little wide. “Damn. Me, either. We should probably get to bed, I guess.”

Even though she knew he hadn’t meant going to bed together, her pulse quickened at the thought of spending the night in his arms anyway. He was supposed to be her bodyguard, after all. What better way to guard her body than to sleep beside her?

Pushing the image out of her head before it became too vivid, she picked up her glass and got to her feet. On the other side of the sectional, Noah did the same.

“There are towels in the guest bathroom linen closet if you want to take a shower,” she said. “The guest room is already made up.”

“Actually, I’m going to sleep down here,” he said. “Do you have a pillow and a blanket I could borrow?”

“Um, yeah. I’ll grab them for you.”

She put her glass in the dishwasher, then ran upstairs to get them for him. A few minutes later, she was back in the living room, pillow and blanket in hand.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch, you know,” she said as she held them out to him. “I have a perfectly good guest room.”

“I’m sure you do. But I’d rather be down here where I’m closer to the doors. If someone is going to break in, they’ll have to go through me to get upstairs.” He flashed her a grin. “Besides, the couch is a hell of a lot better than some of the places I’ve slept, believe me.”

Considering he was a SEAL, she supposed that was probably true. Still, it was kind of scary to hear him implying he thought someone might break in while she was home.

Peyton chewed on her lower lip as she watched Noah toss the pillow on the couch, then shake out the blanket. It occurred to her then that while she and Noah had talked about family, living in Virginia Beach, and a lot of other stuff, he hadn’t mentioned having a wife, or even a girlfriend for that matter.

“Won’t your wife mind you staying with me?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

He slanted her a look. “I’m not married.”

“Your girlfriend, then.”

His mouth curved. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

That announcement had her warm and tingly all over. But how was she supposed to get any sleep when there was a hot, available guy sleeping on her couch?

Because it’s part of Kindle Worlds, MY SEAL BODYGUARD is only available on Amazon. However, you can still download it and read it on any device as long as you have the Kindle app! Also, if you’re outside the US, you must open an account on the Amazon US site to purchase the book.

Click here for Non-US Resident Instructions:  

And for everything Hot SEALs, visit 


Hunky Heroes. Kick-butt Heroines.

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Morcar the Northern Earl and His Captive by Lindsay Townsend. Money off!

PRE-ORDER NOW - AVAILABLE Tuesday, February 2nd.

Morcar the Earl is a pagan, hated by the Norman Bishop Cyril. Cyril and his bastard son Gaspar plot to unseat Morcar and kidnap his son Thorfinn to raise as a puppet manipulated by Cyril. Morcar is overcome and flung into a cave chained to a young woman, the witch Hemlock. Hemlock has herself been betrayed by Gaspar, who had forced her to be his mistress and then abandoned her once she became pregnant. Hemlock has just lost her unborn baby and is highly distrustful of men. 

 As a pagan, Morcar believes in many gods and worships the ancient stag god, whose horned tattoo he bears on his arm. It is partly for fear of the god that Cyril’s men dared not murder him, instead manacling him to Hemlock and leaving them both to starve. Can they work together to escape? Can they recover Thorfinn? In the end, what future can there be between an earl and a witch? A BookStrand Mainstream Romance.


Chapter 1

Fall of the Year, 1133, Northern England
Someone petted his hair. At least he still had a head, although it felt like a splintered log, which Morcar decided was better than the alternative. But what had happened?
Without opening his eyes, he flexed his fingers and toes, a rush of gratitude sweeping through him as he realized his limbs were also still attached.
And they may not have been.
A memory fell into him like a striking hammer on an anvil. Sudden fist and knife blows from behind, from unseen unanticipated enemies, wild fighting, his son—
Morcar reared up with a shout. The slim fingers petting his hair pushed him back down.
“Your lad is alive,” a voice breathed by his ear. “Alive and whole. The church-men took him. Sleep.”
“Do not order…”
The hand resumed carding through his hair and Morcar wallowed back into unconsciousness.
* * * *
Later he blinked again into wakefulness. His brains no longer felt to be seeping from his skull and his shoulders burned, which he assumed was an improvement on the hollow ringing that had throbbed through his body earlier. Shifting slightly, he forced his eyes open wider, seeing an orange, flickering glare against a black backdrop. Is it night or am I underground?
“Sage tea. Want some?”
Jerking aside, Morcar rolled onto his back and yelped, his vision blurring afresh for an instant.
“You have grazes and knife cuts and deep bruises down your spine but you can move so you will heal up tight. Tisane?”
He smelled the fresh, head-clearing sage tea, then, and watched a cup wobble in out of the gloom in front of him. Squirming onto his side, Morcar tried to clasp the cup and failed, tried again and succeeded.
He groaned as the hot drink almost scalded the back of his throat and then thirstily drained the rest of the cup.
“More?” the voice suggested.
His clearing vision showed a pair of startled hazel eyes and a heart-shaped, delicate face, framed by a melee of tangled tresses. The spiky brown hair looked surprisingly pretty on this urchin, though he had only seen short hair for women on female prisoners before. But what was he rambling about? Focus. A girl. My nurse is a girl. Her brilliant eyes reminded him sharply of Maud, his wife. My wife! Mother of our son. Thank the Gods she died in her sleep three winters past, at peace and ready to join the old ones. He could not have borne her suffering, else, or her knowing that their child had been stolen away.
Thorfinn, their son. Small and dark-haired like his mother, with a gap-toothed grin and a low, chortling laugh. Thorfinn, with his secret bedtime toy of a raggedy cloth robin and his favorite bright red boots. Named for the God Thor and Maud’s father, Finn. Five years old and already a fearless horseman and a merry, good-natured soul who would share his supper with any who looked hungry. Thorfinn would be a generous lord, leading his people with a high heart. Unless the church-men corrupt him. That is why they kidnapped him, to act as regents in my—his—lands and to raise him as they see fit.
Remembering Thorfinn’s wild sobbing as the bishops’ men took the boy away was the worst sound he had ever heard. Grief bit into his lungs, harsh as a Viking blood-eagle, and Morcar choked.
“Sit up, please,” the girl beside him coaxed. “You will breathe the easier.”
“Thor’s hammer! Do not order me—” Morcar’s rasped complaint subsided into a new bout of coughing. The wretched girl seized the advantage. Hauling him up under his arms like a bag of tools, she dragged him into a sitting position, bracing his back with a knobbly knee. Another cup of sage tea appeared and Morcar drank it, scowling at his rescuer. She was small and prickly, like a hedgehog, if such a creature ever dressed in a faded, ruby-colored gown and with grubby bare feet.
“My name is Hemlock.”
At his stifled snort, the girl flicked her bangs back from her forehead like an irritated mare shaking its mane and went on, “I am a hedge-witch, though by no means as powerful as Elfrida, Magnus’s wife.”
Morcar nodded his understanding, feeling a little ashamed now of smirking at her unusual name. The church-men disliked witches nearly as much as they disapproved of pagans.
“You follow the old ways?” he asked, wondering where they were.
Hemlock’s answer had him twisting round to stare at her. “Always. After my parents died, my greedy brother sold me to Gaspar, the bishop’s son. He baptized me by force and re-named me Mary. He cut off my long hair and sold it. I worked in his household for two years. Despite my protests and distaste, he kept me as a mistress until I got with child because I no longer possessed the herbs to make a pregnancy-stopping tisane. Then the pious bishop’s son called me a whore and cast me out.”
Hemlock stopped speaking, the sound of her quickened breathing very loud and echoing faintly. We are in an enclosed space, then, possibly close to the sea from the faint tang of salt I can smell and taste in the air.
“Why should Gaspar do that?” he asked, feeling still very slow and stupid as he caught up with Gaspar’s casual cruelty. To shear off a woman’s glory, her hair and then sell it, and worse, to throw her from his household when she was pregnant—Morcar shuddered, strongly, once. Children were a gift from the gods. “Why?” he asked a second time.
“He wants no bastards,” snapped Hemlock. She had gone pale, white to the lips. In the dark of the cave her face hung beside his like a death mask on a pole.

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One Summer by Rayne Forrest

Available January 25, 2016

One Summer

Holly Thomas has a simple plan for the summer - take care of her favorite aunt and celebrate Burkesville’s centennial. Her immediate attraction to the town’s newest resident quickly proves problematic. Joe Mercer’s keeping secrets behind his blue eyes.

Holly’s instincts are good. Joe Mercer’s reasons for coming to Burkesville are two-fold. On the surface he’s the pub owner he looks to be, but he’s also undercover for the government. Holly’s everything he wants in a woman and he’s trapped. He can’t confide to her he’s in the middle of this little covert assignment, and he can’t stay away from her. 

When the deal goes down, Joe scrambles to stay on the right side of everything. Holly has it all wrong but he’s in too deep to back out of the operation. It’s all coming to a head and he’ll be able to tell her everything – if he can just hold on to her for one more day.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
4 Hearts from The Romance Studio….

The author has written a really fine story of two people falling in love in a small town, with a little suspense for added interest. The climax of the book really makes this engrossing love story.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


The bright beam of headlights turned the raindrops falling around her to shimmering crystals. The Chevy slowed to a stop and when the passenger door swung open, she gratefully flung herself into the car as the heavens opened in a deluge. She greeted him, aware that she dripped water on his leather seat.
“Hey, Joe.”
“Hey, Holly.” He reached a long arm between the bucket seats and grabbed a sweatshirt.  She accepted his offering with murmured thanks and slipped it over her head, immediately warmed by soft fabric that was infused with his scent. It took every ounce of self-control she possessed to refrain from burying her nose in the fleece and inhaling deeply.
“Thanks.” She grinned at him. “Good morning, by the way.”
Joe grinned back at her. “It’s a better morning, now. Didn’t you know this storm was rolling through?”
“I thought I had time for my walk. The wind wasn’t blowing when I left the house.” She didn’t say anything as he turned onto Linden Drive, slowed, and turned into Aunt Naomi’s driveway. Someone had told him where she lived. It was a small town.
Of course, that meant he actually asked someone. Despite the cold rain a warm glow settled in her belly.
“Would you like to come in for coffee?” She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to say yes, or no, although yes would be infinitely more interesting. If he came in, she’d grab the chance to find out why he drove around town so early in the morning.
He regarded her evenly for a count of five then leaned towards her, his large hand warm on her chilled knee. “I’d love coffee, but I’m short on time.”
Holly forgot to breathe as that warm hand slid to the inside of her thigh and traveled to the edge of her shorts and impropriety before stopping. His blue gaze, locked with hers, darkened until she saw her reflection. Her belly tightened. Her joints suddenly loosened, surprising her with the swiftness of it. She shivered as her nipples tingled and peaked at the sound of his low, husky voice. Thank heavens he’d given her the sweatshirt and couldn’t observe her reaction. She didn’t want to give away too many of her secrets, no matter how sexy Joe Mercer looked.
“We have unfinished business, Holly.”
She agreed, most whole-heartedly.
Joe slipped his arm around her. Holly dropped her head onto his shoulder and tipped her chin up to him. His lips came down on hers and she opened to him, a silent invitation to plunder at will.
His searing hot mouth tasted of coffee, mint, and Joe. Electricity jolted through her belly, settling to a simmering boil at the apex of her thighs.  She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t wanted this and flicked her tongue across his lower lip. He nibbled at the corner of her mouth, teasing her. She fisted her hands in his shirt and tugged on him. His lips gentled, caressing hers softly, moving on hers, whisper soft, and so very, very warm. 
How long he held her in his spell she didn’t know, or care. The vibrations beneath her ceased. The sound of the rain was suddenly louder. She was aware of it in a vague sort of way, registering it and tossing it away as unimportant. Joe’s arms were around her lifting her. His lips were still locked to hers.
He was so warm, so big and solid. The feel of him, hard against her hip, brought her up short when she wiggled closer. Holly pulled away and opened her eyes, blinking him back into focus.
He grinned, eyes sparkling, his smile as unrepentantly male as his erection pressed hard between them. His arms tightened around her, a surprising shelter against the sudden urge to flee his strength. 
“Is that your Aunt Naomi?”
Holly jerked and the world suddenly refocused. The silken web he’d woven around her dissolved and she found herself sprawled across his lap.
She looked out the fogged windshield to see Aunt Naomi standing on the porch, bundled up in a sweater and calmly sipping her coffee while she watched the sideshow in her driveway. Her equilibrium returned. Darn reality, anyway.
“That’s her.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s a neat trick getting a girl onto your lap with the gear shifter thingy and the steering wheel in the way, Joe. Practice it much?”

She shifted her weight and froze as he winced, only to move again more cautiously so as not to injure a few of his body parts he’d probably not want injured. He grinned at her again, a big, open, smug male smile. She slid off his lap. It was her turn to grin as he pulled the edges of his black leather jacket in across the front of his jeans. 

“Thanks for the ride, Joe,” she said with her best attempt at sounding sultry. He laughed softly at the double entendre. 

“My pleasure, Holly. Honest.” His hand closed over hers, warm and strong.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

One Summer is now available at these online book sellers:

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Midnight Wrangler (Midnight Cowboys) by Cat Johnson

One Lonely Widower. One Woman with a Secret. One Night That Changes Everything…
Rohn Lerner is a successful Oklahoma rancher. He’s old enough to know what he likes, and still young enough to enjoy it. But losing his wife five years ago wore him thin. He’s not ready to date, but he needs someone to share a meal with as badly as someone to warm his bed.
Bonnie Martin fled her Oklahoma home years ago, leaving behind her abusive father, and Rohn, the lost love she never forgot. Now she’s back to settle her father’s estate, but she has no idea that she’s about to bump into Rohn or that they’ll fall for each other all over again.
“Johnson…sensitively paints a sweet and sizzling contemporary romance” Publishers Weekly Starred Review

Enjoy this CHAPTER 1 Excerpt from MIDNIGHT WRANGLER by Cat Johnson
Some days no matter what a man did nothing seemed to go right. Today at the Double L Ranch was one of those days.
Rohn Lerner let out a sigh tinged with frustration as he found his three ranch hands shooting the breeze by the barn instead of tackling all the chores that needed to get done.
“Hey!” He strode toward the group.
“Hey, boss.” Tyler tipped his chin in Rohn’s direction. “What’s up?”
Tyler was usually the ringleader of the lazy hands so his what’s up particularly rubbed Rohn the wrong way today. They’d know what was up if they weren’t so busy jabbering.
Rohn came to a stop as he reached the three young men. “The bull pushed over the water trough again.”
Tyler glanced at the field where the bull was currently penned without water. He scrunched up his face and looked back to Rohn. “Yeah, I saw that before.”
Rohn’s eyes widened at the revelation. “Then why aren’t you over there refilling it?”
These boys had been working for Rohn for enough years that they should know what to do without him having to tell him.
Colton knocked his hat back a notch. “We’re fixin’ to get to it, Rohn. Relax.”
“You’re fixin’ to get to it?” Being told to relax by an employee half his age made Rohn’s blood pressure rise. “And when would that be, this getting to it?
“We were going to head over right after lunch.” Justin, a couple years older and apparently wiser than the other two, stepped in with his attempt to soothe the situation.
“That bull is worth his weight in cash, so how about if he gets his water before y’all get your lunch?” Rohn would really like to know when the youth of this country had been taught that it was all right to talk back to their boss. Probably about the same time they’d convinced themselves it was all right to put off doing important tasks until later.
Justin gave a nod. “A’ight, Rohn. Sorry, but you know in this kinda weather the hose bakes in the sun and we have to drain the hot water outta it before we can fill the tanks. I just figured since we were going to scrub and refill all the buckets after lunch anyway, we’d take care of it then instead of wasting the water draining it twice.”
They had been through some pretty bad droughts lately in this part of the country, and wildfires were always an issue in Oklahoma. Justin’s point about saving water was a valid one, but Rohn was in no mood to concede that.
He cocked one brow. “Then maybe you outta finish all the watering now and then take a late lunch.”
Tyler blew out a breath. “Somebody’s cranky today.”
“Today?” Colton frowned beneath the brim of his cowboy hat. “Try every damn day lately.”
“Yeah?” Rohn lifted his brows high and hooked a thumb toward the drive. “There’s the way out. Y’all feel free to hit the road and look for another job whenever you want.”
Colton snickered. “Yeah. All right.”
It was Rohn’s own damn fault. He’d always been more of a friend to these kids than a boss. He’d joke around and act like a buddy, but in his current mood that last threat hadn’t been completely in jest.
Tyler turned to Colton and Justin. “Can you two go on over, right that trough and start on the water? I’ll meet you out there in a bit and we’ll figure out how to make it stay upright for good this time.”
Colton’s mouth dropped open. “Since when do you get to tell Justin and me what to do?”
“Since I wanna talk to Rohn alone for a minute.” Tyler crossed his arms over his chest, not backing down.
“Come on, Colt. Let’s go.” Justin tipped his head toward the field.
Colton continued to sputter. “But why should we?”
“So we can talk crap about Ty behind his back, that’s why.” With a grin, Justin winked at Tyler and pivoted on the heel of one boot toward the pasture. Colton shot Tyler a parting glance that expressed exactly what he thought about the situation, but followed Justin.
Once they were gone, Tyler turned to Rohn. A crease furrowed the forehead above his dark brows. “You a’ight? You need to talk?”
Rohn let out a snort. “What, are you a therapist now?”
“No, I’m your friend. And it wasn’t too long ago you pulled me aside to talk privately when I was wrestling with some shit of my own. Remember?”
That all had been barely a couple of months ago. Back when Rohn had been dumb or desperate enough to listen to Colton and ask his widowed neighbor Janie out on a date. Rohn remembered that dinner with Janie, as well as the exact moment he’d figured out that the woman already had feelings for Tyler.
That’s what Rohn got for taking relationship advice from a twentysomething-year-old cowboy with little experience and no serious girlfriend that he knew of.
Meanwhile, being twenty-four and dense as a lump of coal, Tyler had been too young and stupid to realize how Janie felt until Rohn had explained it to him.
Nope. Rohn hadn’t forgotten any of it. “Yeah, I remember. Except what you were wrestling with was that a beautiful, smart, intelligent woman was in love with you. So, I’m sure that shit wasn’t all that difficult for you to get over.”
Tyler tipped his head. “I was miserable for a while, just the same, and you stepped in and straightened me out.”
“Somebody had to.” Proven by the fact that since that conversation as far as Rohn could see, the couple was not only together, but looking pretty serious. If he wasn’t mistaken, Tyler was all but living at Janie’s. “So are you officially moved in to her place yet, or just staying over there every night?”
Tyler opened his eyes wide. “Wait a minute. Is that what this crap mood of yours is about? You’re upset I’m with Janie?”
“No, I’m not upset you’re with Janie.” Rohn shook his head, sorry he’d said anything at all. “As long as you’re treating her right, I’m happy for her and for you. That’s not it at all.”
“Then what is it?” Beneath the brim of his hat, Tyler drew his brows low.
“Nothing.” His love life, or lack of one, was one thing Rohn didn’t want to discuss with a cocky twenty-four-year-old who had everything in the world at his fingertips and his whole future ahead of him.
“Rohn, come on. Just spill it.” Tyler crossed his arms and leaned back against the fence, as if he was willing to wait as long as it took.
Damn persistent kid. Rohn silently mouthed a cuss, but finally gave in. “I guess I’m just kinda lonely sometimes, okay?”
Tyler threw his hands in the air. “That’s why I’ve been telling you to come out with us. You ain’t meeting any girls here at the ranch.”
“And I told you I don’t want to meet girls and I’m not going to find a woman of any substance at the bars where you yahoos hang out.”
“Then set up one of those online dating accounts. They have them for older folks now.”
“Older folks?” Rohn let out a snort as that hit him hard, like a punch to the gut. “Great. Thanks a lot.”
How the hell old did these kids think he was, anyway? Rohn had quite a few years left before he turned fifty. Enough years he felt justified still holding on tight to his claim of being in his early forties. Okay, maybe he was inching closer to his midforties, but still.
“I’m not trying to insult you, Rohn. I’m just trying to give you some options.”
“Well, no offense, Tyler, and thanks for trying, but I don’t like your options.”
The kid had work to do still, and lunch to eat, but he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get going. Tyler stayed put, eyeing Rohn. “You know, if it’s just sex you’re missing, there are girls you can call for that. . . .”
“Jesus, Tyler. Please stop talking.” Rohn scrubbed his hands over his face, ignoring the dust and dirt he’d probably smeared all over himself.
“I’m serious. You can probably ask for any age woman you want, too, if you don’t want a girl who’s too young.”
Letting out a laugh at the ridiculousness of this surreal conversation, Rohn still couldn’t help but ask, “How the hell would you know about any of that?”
Rohn had no doubt this former playboy had never had to hire a professional in that area. Before settling into a relationship with Janie, Tyler was the type of guy who would never have come home from a rodeo or a night out on the town without a willing recipient of his affections in his passenger seat.
Sure, over the years Tyler had probably spent a small fortune buying drinks for women before he got a little loving in return, but to outright pay a prostitute for sex? No way. Rohn couldn’t see it happening. Not for Tyler and definitely not for himself.
 “I planned my brother’s bachelor party. The place I hired the stripper from also offers girls who provide other services, if you know what I mean. I have the phone number—“ Tyler reached to pull his cell phone out of his jeans pocket.
Rohn threw up one hand to stop him. “No. Enough. I don’t want the number. Not now. Not ever. Okay?”
The dead last thing Rohn needed was Tyler putting some stupid idea into his head about paying a woman to have sex with him. Worse, as the years of celibacy since his wife Lila’s death started to add up to be more than he could count on one hand, the idea didn’t seem as horrifying to him as it should.
He’d been lucky enough to love two women in his life. Bonnie Martin for that single magical perfect summer after high school. And Lila, who’d been his wife and best friend for the fifteen years they were married.
Rohn knew finding love again, a third time and at his age, was a long shot. But that didn’t mean he was willing to explore the alternative Tyler had suggested.
“Okay, but if you change your mind . . .” Tyler let the suggestion hang in the air.
This conversation had gone on for too long already, and all it had done was make Rohn more agitated. He’d gone from cranky to being both appalled and needy. As crazy as it seemed, talking about strippers and hookers had woken up his long suppressed sex drive.
“a moving story about second chances and rediscovered love that will delight fans” RT Magazine

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MC Romances

Three full length romances filled with sizzling heat and biker suspense!

Wild Marauders MC - When a prospect kidnaps Kat thinking that she's a doctor, she finds herself under the protection of the club president. Their attraction is instant and hot and it isn't long before they're burning up the sheets. But when she steals his Harley to escape Lynch has no choice but to follow club rules and deal out punishment. Tempers erupt, passions explode, and punishment becomes the sweetest ecstasy!

Dark Menace MC - Rachel offers herself to Stone, the president of an outlaw motorcycle club, as collateral for her family's debt, and becomes the target of a rival club. Wildman, president of the Red Devils, wants her, but so does Stone--and he’ll do whatever it takes to protect her from the evil bastard who calls himself her step-father.

Phantom Riders MC - Ultimate betrayal leaves Hawk, the president of an outlaw motorcycle club, distrustful and hating women. He only wants them for one thing now, and once he’s satisfied his animal urges he casts them aside without a second thought. But then Audra shows up, threatening his club and his way of life, and Hawk has to decide to turn the sexy, pint-sized package of trouble loose, or claim her for his own.

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