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ICE Teaser Tuesday

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(Bones MC 14): A Bones MC Romance

 

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: November 10, 2023

 

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Ice — The second to last thing I expected when Cain called Church was for
him to resign as president of Bones. The last thing I expected was to be
voted in as president myself. So when I found myself on a rescue mission for
the daughter of the Devil himself? Well. I wasn’t surprised at all.
What did surprise me was the woman herself. Sure, I’d met her on more
than one occasion, but the teenage girl I’d seen a couple of years
before is definitely not the woman I pull out of the rushing water when she
gets stranded in the middle of a hurricane.

Dawn — Coming home during a hurricane isn’t one of the smartest
things I’ve ever done. Neither is getting mixed up with the man who
was the reason for me taking such a risk. So when I’m stranded with
water overtaking my car, I thought I’d finally tempted fate for the
last time. Until my guardian angel plucks me from the water and saves me. In
more ways than one. He’s the new president of Bones MC and a man I
can’t deny I want with every fiber of my being.

 

WARNING: Ice features a protective hero, a determined heroine and includes
graphic violence and adult situations that may be triggers for some readers.
Eventual happy ending and no cheating, as always.

ICE paperback

Excerpt

 

Marteeka Karland

All rights reserved

Copyright ©2023 Marteeka Karland

 

“Dawn!” The man had to raise his voice over the wind though we
weren’t to the point where he had to yell. Yet. “We need to get
back to my ride.” I looked up at the man who held my arm in a firm but
gentle grip. He was gruff and insistent, and I thought I recognized
him.

“Cliff?”

“Yeah. They call me Ice now. I’m takin’ you back to the
Salvation’s Bane clubhouse. Are you injured?”

I shook my head. “No. Just wet. I’m sorry I left the
car.”

“The storm surge is starting. With high tide coming, the
water’s gonna rise fast. You didn’t have a choice.” He
took off his rain jacket and put it around me, helping me thread my arms
through it before zipping it up and pulling the hood over my head. He
tightened down the laces so the wind wouldn’t immediately blow it
off.

“We’ve got to go three blocks that way.” He pointed in
the direction he wanted to take me. “All you have to do is stay on
your feet and keep your head down. Can you do that for me?” Looking up
into his face, I nodded. “Good. Let’s go.”

Ice had a firm grip on my hand as he led the way. We moved quickly through
the flooded streets, the water now up to our knees and rising fast. The wind
was howling around us. Even though he’d tightened it almost
uncomfortably, my hood didn’t last two seconds once we were out of the
relative shelter of the doorway. My hair whipped into my face, making it
almost impossible to see where we were going. But Ice was a strong presence
beside me, guiding me through the chaos with a steady hand and a sure sense
of direction. Every so often, he would lean in close to my ear to be heard
over the wind, giving me a few words of encouragement or advice.

“Keep your head down, Dawn! We’re almost there!”

I nodded, gritting my teeth against the driving rain and pushing on through
the water. My legs were aching with my effort and my clothes were soaked
through, but I refused to give up. I trusted in Ice and his ability to get
us both to safety because my dad trusted him. No one failed my dad. Not if
they wanted to live.

Finally, after what felt like hours of trudging through the water, we
reached a parking garage. Ice took me up one level to the second floor. It
was low to the ground but up high enough to keep us out of the water. I
hoped.

He led me to the Bronco I’d been expecting and opened the back.
“I’ve got some dry clothes and food. Might be too big for you
but you’ll be warm and dry.”

Exhausted, I slumped against the vehicle, breathing hard. Once we’d
made it to the parking garage, the going had been much easier, but the wind
still howled through the structure and I was spent.

Ice opened the back of the truck. The tailgate swung out and he urged me
behind it. He stood on the other side and turned his back, effectively
guarding the open side from prying eyes. Surprisingly, the place seemed
deserted. I’d have thought there would be other people taking shelter,
but the town was small. Maybe they got everyone evacuated or to an actual
shelter before the storm started.

He turned his head to the side, not looking at me, but like he was trying
to see if I was moving. I wasn’t.

“You good?”

“I-I d-don’t know.”

Carefully, Ice turned farther until he saw I was still dressed, then he
turned all the way and stepped closer to me. “You’re safe, Dawn.
I swear I’ll keep you safe. I’ll protect you with my
life.” Intense, dark eyes bore into my own. He was so tall and big, he
loomed over me. I should have been intimidated but I wasn’t.

It was in that moment I realized why my dad trusted Ice so much. He was
capable, strong, and fiercely loyal. He was also my calm in the middle of
this storm. Literally. I also knew that like Cain and El Diablo, Ice was
every bit as capable and sure of himself as they were. As I looked up at
him, I saw a flicker of something in his gaze that made my heart race.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse from the wind and the
rain.

Ice’s hand found my chin, tilting my face up to his. “Trust me
to see you through this. Yes?” I nodded. “Good. Get some dry
clothes on. I’ve got your back.”

As I looked up into his face, one strangled sob escaped me. I thought he
might look disgruntled or annoyed. Instead, Ice’s eyes got big and he
rocked backward like he was going to step away from me. Then he shook his
head and reached for me.

“Come here, honey.”

Having Ice pull me into his arms was the very last thing I expected. He
surrounded me with his big frame, those strong arms holding me tightly when
I felt like I was going to fragment into a million pieces.

I wanted to break down. Wanted to let the fear wash through me so I could
cleanse myself of it. Get it out of my system. But this was only the
beginning. I knew the worst was yet to come, and that was assuming we could
get out of this stupid parking garage and to the Salvation’s Bane
clubhouse.

“Take some deep breaths for me.” His gruff voice was oddly
soothing. His arms around me kept me grounded when I knew I was so in over
my head — literally — there was no way I could fight this on my own. I
could feel the heavy muscles of his chest where I had my cheek on his wet
shirt. The water was hot from the heat of his skin and as he rubbed one hand
gently up and down my back, the tension lessened inside me somewhat.

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. This is a pretty scary situation.”

Strangely, I felt a laugh bubble up in my throat. “You can say that
again.”

He grunted, holding me a few seconds longer before pulling back. “You
can do this, Dawn. Get some dry clothes on and I’ll do the same. Then
we’ll check in with Thorn and Ripper. They’re keeping an eye on
the weather minute by minute.”

“I think Shotgun is too.”

“I’m sure he is. Likely, he and Ripper are in constant contact,
conferring with each other and figuring out the best course of action for
us. They’ll get me the most accurate information they can, and
I’ll decide what we do next.”

Again, I nodded. “OK.” I took another breath. “OK. I can
do this.”

He nodded sharply at me. “Of course, you can. You’re El
Diablo’s daughter.” He raised his chin looking proud. Of me?
Then he turned his back so I could have some privacy.

 

 

About the Author

International bestselling author Marteeka Karland leads a double life as an
erotic romance writer by evening and a semi-domesticated housewife by day.
Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes pleasure in
spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited, vulnerable
heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a blissful
ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her writings are
speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning delight
entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying conclusions that
elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband
with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for
preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts
(which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with
Marteeka’s latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her
website. Don’t forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you
with a potpourri of Teeka’s beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph
events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

 

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

Author on Facebook

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

 

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Breaking Cycles Blitz

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Contemporary Romance

Date Published: 10-10-2023

Publisher: Atmosphere Press

 

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Indulge in a steamy contemporary romance that will ignite your hopes for
the ultimate happily ever after of a bad boy and a good girl.

 

Over a decade ago, motorcycle mechanic Grant Young made a daring escape,
fully convinced he’d never look back. A shadowed history propelled him into
the abyss, ensuring he mastered the art of detachment. However, destiny
takes an unforeseen turn when Ella, a stunning, intelligent, and courageous
woman, steps in to rescue him from the aftermath of a catastrophic
accident.

Ella’s compassion and strength force Grant to reevaluate his perceptions
about life and love. She becomes the catalyst for him to confront his past
and embrace the unfamiliar territory of vulnerability. Can Grant break the
cycle of self-destructive patterns and embrace the possibility of something
more?

 

Breaking Cycles is a captivating romance transcending the boundaries
between a wayward rebel and a virtuous spirit. Navigating trials,
heartaches, and moments of elation, the journey of Grant and Ella unfolds as
a poignant quest for redemption and love. The burning question lingers: Will
Grant overcome his past and find happiness with Ella, or will his demons
keep him running? Immerse yourself in Nikki A Lamers’ enthralling
masterpiece to uncover the destiny that awaits.

About the Author

Nikki A Lamers

Award Winning Author, Nikki A Lamers grew up in Wisconsin and lived in
Florida for a few years before ending up in New York where she now lives
with her husband and their two teenagers. She has always loved to write and
curl up with a good book. Since meeting her husband, they enjoy spending
time in Maine every year and exploring different places. Her first book, The
Unforgettable Summer, won the Imadjinn Book Award for best romance and the
Firebird Book Award in four categories including New Adult Fiction, Series,
Summer/Beach Read and Contemporary Novel. While Unforgettable Nights won for
New Adult Fiction, Contemporary novel and Series and Unforgettable Dreams in
Contemporary novel and Series in the Firebird book awards. Now with six
books in the Unforgettable Series, you have the chance to fall in love with
the characters just like her!

Dreams Lost and Found is part of a duet that hits close to home for the
author. The main character Samantha was adopted as an infant, just like
Nikki. Although Samantha’s story is not her own, she enjoyed writing every
word. Finding Home is book 2 of the Home duet. With Breaking Cycles, Nikki’s
newest release, along with an upcoming holiday anthology for a cause that
will be available only for a limited time.

When she’s not reading or writing, she enjoys traveling, exploring, hiking
and spending time with her family and friends with her coffee, a glass of
wine, or a taste of dark chocolate.

 

Contact Links

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The Rot Within Blitz

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Fantasy – Dark Fantasy – Epic Fantasy – Post Apocalyptic Fantasy.

Date Published: October 28, 2023

 

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This is not a save-the-world story.

In a fading world on the brink of its end, Sunmine stands besieged by the
Jungle of Rot. Tensions simmer between the Woodfolk and the Sun Empire
Citizens, trapped together in these shrinking lands.

Amidst this turmoil, a figure stands out: Anpô, the sole outsider to
ever come from beyond the Rot and survive. He arrived a mere baby in his
mother’s arms, an ominous bloodred tattoo marking his chest — but her
death came fast, robbing Anpô and the city of any answers she might
have held.

Is Anpô to be the doom of Sunmine, as so many claim? A cursed
Rotspawn, touched from birth by the Black Rot that devours the world? Or
could the whirls of ink on his chest hide the answers they seek?

Seeking acceptance, Anpô chases the sacred Art of Burning, his true
nature becoming entwined with the hopes and hatred of Sunmine’s inhabitants
as the forces of this decaying world converge around him. Will he carve
himself a place in these lands that are not his, unlocking the secrets
shrouding his past? Or will he crumble under the weight of their fear and
mistrust, unleashing whichever dark destiny might lurk within him?

About the Author

P.T.M. Parizotto

P.T.M. Parizotto is the author of the epic fantasy The Rot Within as well
as the content creator behind the YouTube channel P.T.M. Parizotto
(GeekZotto), which focuses on the critical analysis of storytelling. He is
currently finishing his Master’s Degree in São Paulo, Brazil.

 

Contact Links

Website

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Amazon

 

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Everything is Temporary Blitz

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Christmas Horror

Date Published: November 2, 2023

Publisher: Deadbolt Books

 

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How well do we really know the people sleeping next to us in bed at
night?

After a tragedy strikes the Barnes family, Sarah’s husband Tom begins
acting strangely. It starts with wild mood-shifts and accusations at their
thirteen-year-old daughter, but quickly escalates to the attempted murder of
an off-season mall Santa. From what Sarah can tell, Tom’s only motive seems
to lie behind a mysterious hatred for Christmas that burns year-round.
What’s worse, Tom’s only defense lies in a long-forgotten book he wrote
detailing a traumatic event in his childhood that seems too far-fetched to
be believed. His entire case revolves around the notion of talking Christmas
trees, a living army of toys, and worst of all, a monster masquerading as
Mrs. Claus.

Now, Sarah must go on a journey into her husband’s past to learn if Tom is
in the midst of a psychotic breakdown, if he’s a danger to his family, or if
he really is being hunted by the malevolent holiday horror that destroyed
his childhood.

 

About the Author

JON COHN

JON COHN IS A WRITER and professional board game designer based out of San
Diego, California. You can follow him on Instagram and Twitter
@joncohnauthor.

He would also love to give you free stuff like stories, audiobooks, and
games by signing up for his mailing list at www.joncohnauthor.com.

 

Contact Links

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Amazon Author Page

 

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Wild Asses of the Mojave Desert Virtual Book Tour

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New Adult – Literary – Contemporary fiction –
Women’s fiction

Date Published:10-20-2023

Publisher: Mapleton Press

 

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This novel about friendship, nostalgia, and finding oneself is funny and
tender, moving and poetic, while standing firmly in hope and love. The
characters are thinkers, overthinkers really, who are trying to find their
way by asking the deep questions of life with wide-eyed wonder and talking
through life’s uncertainties. They fearlessly confront the choices they’ve
made, examining their desires and their mistakes. The result is a smart,
engaging novel depicting a young woman’s search for the people and place she
will call home.

 

Praise for Wild Asses of the Mojave Desert 

 ‘The best stories begin with wreckage.’ Jack London 

…a journey away from the familiar and into the desert of discovery…As relationship quandaries, marriage possibilities, and good and harmful emotional connections emerge against the backdrop of the desert environment, readers receive a multifaceted story that connects via both emotional and landscape twists of perspective. 

Wild Asses of the Mojave Desert is a novel that pulls at heart and mind alike. Through Skye’s journey and process of letting go everything she’s held tightly throughout her life, readers receive a compelling saga… 

-D. Donovan, Sr. Reviewer, Midwest Book Review 

 

 With lyrical prose and philosophical conversation, Skye’s relationships light up as fiercely as the streaks marking the desert sky at night. This novel about friendship, nostalgia, and finding oneself is funny and tender, moving and poetic, while standing firmly in hope and love. The characters are thinkers, overthinkers really, who are trying to find their way by asking the deep questions of life with wide-eyed wonder and talking through life’s uncertainties. They fearlessly confront the choices they’ve made, examining their desires and their mistakes. The result is a smart, engaging novel depicting a young woman’s search for the people and place she will call home. Returning home is a powerful and effective plot device that, in this author’s hands, feels vibrant and new partly because of the fully realized characters and strong dialogue that endow the relationships with wise and vivid truths about life. 

-RECOMMENDED by the US Review

 

Wild Asses of the Mojave tablet

EXCERPT

On my first night back in the desert I dreamed that in the future, scientists carbon dated my memories and determined the last six years of my life never existed. It was glorious. A total lie, but glorious. The next morning, I woke in the guest bedroom of my sister’s house. After forty-two hours of driving across the country, all I had to show for it was the tips of my cowboy boots pointed straight at the ceiling. I stared at the smooth white paint, wanting to start over, but false starts followed me like the smooth second hand rolling around a dial. I didn’t have a map of my life, just a feeling connected to a feeling. I’d gone too far out into that wide-open space that turns back on you and howls. I pressed wildflowers into the pages of my favorite Murakami. I was a mess. 

I sighed, rolled over, kicked off my boots, left my jeans on, and walked down the hall topless. It was as close to a plan as I was going to get.

Dylan was sitting on the sofa, pulling a little rake over the pristine sand of a Zen garden. 

My arms flew to my chest. “I’ll get a shirt,” I said, spinning around quickly.

Dylan laughed, “Why bother now?”

“Perv. I thought I was alone.”

“We’re never alone in this infinite universe, Skye.”

Not one for calling ahead, or planning, or even knocking, he just showed up. Dylan was good at showing up. He’d moved into a trailer out in the desert, eating hash brownies and tracking UFO sightings in a journal he won at a rodeo raffle. It was a small town. Rumors flew constantly. I knew all about that stuff before he showed up because my sister told me. I snatched one of her dirty tees from the hall floor and walked back to the living room. 

Dylan was in the kitchen by then, opening the freezer. He paused, and even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew what he was looking at. “Do you know you have a dead squirrel in your freezer?” He poked its tail. “At least, I hope it’s dead.” 

I walked over and shut the freezer door with one hand. “It’s not a squirrel. It’s a chinchilla, and I loved him.”

Prying eyes turned. “What’s going on? Why do you have dead rodents in the freezer?”

“Because I have a hard time saying goodbye. He died on me the night before I left.”

“What was really going on in South Carolina?”

I scooped coffee into the filter. “I was working at this quasi-massage parlor out by the airport while my boyfriend learned to play the guitar. I didn’t do the old rub-and-tug because I was just a receptionist, but the pay was good, and in the middle of two back-to-back recessions I was kinda grateful to be able to stare at the ceiling and contemplate the meaning of life while men groaned on the other side of thin walls. I sold a bunch of acid for gas money to get back here. I also learned to draw my feelings.”

Dylan blinked without moving, like one of those strange insects on the Nature Channel. “So, you were off with some confused douchebag trying to find himself, while Trevor was screwing up his life by marrying a girl he doesn’t love?”

“Did he tell you that?”

“She’s cheating on him with some guy at the assisted living facility.”

“A patient?”

“Gross. No. Some guy she works with.” He jammed his hands into his pockets. “Do you have any more acid?”

“No. I sold it all in a desperate attempt to get out of there.”

“Huh.”

“Why are you here?”

He shrugged. “I was trying to get your sister to have sex with me.”

“Did it work?”

“No.” He reached for a coffee cup, then said, “Listen. I want to show you something.”

Dylan jerked the steering wheel to avoid plowing into a rolling tumbleweed. He drove the way he lived: in a weird, herky-jerky motion that made everyone carsick except him. The truck blazed past the Sno Cream Castle. Cardboard covered the windows, and the doors were boarded shut. The sight whizzed by so fast that I turned in my seat. Sprigs of weeds with tiny flowers poked up through cracks in the asphalt. Old signs in the windows announced banana splits and milkshakes with swirls of peanut butter cup pieces. The metal-and-concrete picnic tables were still bolted to the earth, but clearly, something had swooped down and taken the soul of the Sno Cream Castle to heaven.

I jerked my thumb. “Is it closed for the season?”

“It’s closed for good,” Dylan sighed. “I haven’t had a decent Cherry Limealicious and order of onion rings since.”

My mind trailed back to in the Sno Cream Castle. Stones rose up at the corners where the picnic tables stood empty. I used to swing a leg over and straddle the concrete bench and Trevor at the same time. Every moment dripped with the possibility of his tongue touching mine. That sweet place where cotton candy met salted caramel. I leaned back in my seat, burning details into my mind. I’d pass it again. It was off the highway, impossible to avoid, but I would never dip my fingers into a Sugar Cream Shake again, and that made me ache.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You didn’t want this life anymore, Skye. I don’t know why you’re so shocked that it fell apart.” He shrugged. “Besides, we were planning on having that concrete picnic table bronzed for you.” 

“It’s not always about sex, Dylan.” 

“Don’t kid yourself,” he winked. “We’re adults now. It’s always about sex.” 

We’d been on a dirt road for a while when the charred remains of a car came into view. Instinctively, I looked out the back window to make sure we weren’t followed. Burnt to a total crisp. Dylan pulled to a stop a few yards away. The whole scene felt cinematic as I stepped out. The creaking of the door opening, the charred skeleton of a car, the thump of boots on dry ground. A dusty cooler lay open a few feet away. 

“There’s a cooler over here.” I tipped it with the toe of my boot. “And it’s empty.”

“Yeah,” Dylan said, walking to the burnt car. “It had tubes of bull semen in it.”

Two car doors laid haphazardly in the brush, blown off.

“Bull semen?”

“Yeah, it’s quite a commodity, and will allow me to live without bill collectors for a while. You wouldn’t turn your nose up at thirty-eight big ones.”

I stared at him under the blazing light. Rugged. Manly. Crazy. “There’s a black market for bull semen?”

“There’s a black market for everything.”

Turning in a circle to illustrate the complete isolation, I asked, “So you just happened to find this burnt-out car in the middle of nowhere, with a cooler full of bull semen?”

“It wasn’t really a cooler full of bull semen. It’s kept in canisters inside the cooler, inside these things called ‘straws’. But yes. You make it sound a little more exciting than it was.”

“Dylan, how did you find this place?”

He looked at the car for a minute, eyes falling to the charred hood, warped and twisted. “Charlie led me out here.”

The wind changed course. The burnt smell of plastic assaulted my nose. “Your dead dog led you to a burnt-out car in the middle of the desert?”

“It was still on fire when I got here, but yes. Something like that. I woke up from a dream about Charlie, grabbed a cup of coffee and started driving.”

Uh-huh. Why did you bring me out here?”

He pointed to the other side of the car and said, “Follow me.”

I followed Dylan about two hundred yards away to a hole in the earth, where a large pink-gold stone glowed.

“Whoa,” I backed up. “Is that thing radioactive?”

“I don’t think so. If it is, I’m screwed. I touched it. No signs of radiation poisoning.”

Yet.”

He actually took the time to make eye contact with me before rolling his eyes. 

“Okay,” I said, confused. “Where did it come from?”

Dylan jabbed his finger at the sky in an insistent way, and said, “I think it’s a meteorite. I think it hit the roof of this car and ignited.”

“Which explains what?”

Dylan shrugged. “I think this rock is here to help us find meaning in our lives.”

What?”

He dusted his hands off. “Listen, there was a sign back there on the highway that said beer cheaper than gas. Let’s go see if there’s truth in advertising.”

 

 

About the Author

Lis Anna-Langston

Lis Anna-Langston was raised along the winding current of the Mississippi
River on a steady diet of dog-eared books. She attended a Creative and
Performing Arts School from middle school until graduation and went on to
study Literature at Webster University. Her novels have won the
Parents’ Choice Gold, Moonbeam Book Award, Independent Press Award,
Benjamin Franklin Book Award and NYC Big Book Awards. A three-time Pushcart
award nominee and Finalist in the Brighthorse Book Prize, William Faulkner
Fiction Contest, George Garrett Fiction Prize and Thomas Wolfe Fiction
Award, her work has been published in The Literary Review, Emerson Review,
The Merrimack Review, Emrys Journal, The MacGuffin, Sand Hill Review and
dozens of other literary journals.

Hailed as “an author with a genuine flair for originality” by
Midwest Book Review and “a loveable, engaging, original
voice…” by Publishers Weekly, you can find her in the wilds of
South Carolina plucking stories out of thin air.

Contact Links

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