Riptide MC (#1)
Motorcycle Club Romance
Date Published: 1/3/25
Publisher: Changeling Press
Someone took a shot at my Emma – and signed his own death warrant. No
one hurts my woman and lives.
Emma:
After witnessing a cold-blooded killing, I run to the only person I can
think of who can protect me. Ace is my high school fantasy turned big bad
biker. Did I mention sizzling, sexy, and hot? He’s everything I know I
should stay away from, but his touch makes me melt and when his lips devour
mine, I forget why I shouldn’t let him near me. But he’s more
than just a one-night stand. He makes me feel safe. Loved. Wanted. All the
things I’ve never had — and that’s addictive as hell. Ace makes
it clear he wants to claim me, make me part of his biker family, and keep me
by his side. And I want him. Forever.
Ace:
I’ve always had a thing for Emma, but back in high school, she dated
my little brother. So I moved on. Joined the Navy SEALs. Re-upped a few
times, but when that last mission went south, I knew it was time to bail.
Feeling lost and adrift, I came home. And patched into the Riptide MC.
Finally felt like I had a home and a family. I didn’t think life could
get any better. A knock on my door in the middle of the night changed
everything. Emma fell into my arms, terrified and wounded. Some asshole shot
my Emma. He may not know it yet, but he just signed his own death warrant.
Once I’ve taken care of her, I’m going to convince Emma to stay
with me. Forever.
Excerpt
Copyright ©2024 Anne Kane
Emma
It was midnight by the time I left work. My shitty excuse for a car had
crapped out on me yesterday and transit didn’t run this late, so I had
to walk home. Short enough walk, but this wasn’t the safest part of
town for a woman alone to traverse after dark. I knew better than to take
the shortcut through the park, especially at night. The bad guys came out
when the sun went down, clinging to the shadows in the park as they went
about their illegal activities. Drug deals, illicit arms sales and who knew
what else. Still, that route would cut the length of my walk in half, and
after slinging drinks at the bar all night, the temptation was too much to
resist.
My aching feet won the argument with my common sense, and I risked
it.
It was dark under the towering trees. The heavy branches blocked out the
majority of the moonlight, making it feel eerily like the setting of a
horror movie. More than half of the lights on the concrete path had been
knocked out by kids throwing rocks. I stepped up my pace.
I was halfway through the park when the sound of a gunshot rang out loud in
the still night air. I jumped, automatically turning toward the
sounds.
In the clearing off to my left side stood a big guy holding a gun. He had
it pointed at another guy who had a splash of red spreading from a hole in
his chest. The shooter took two more shots, hitting the other guy right
between the eyes. The victim crumpled to the ground as blood and brains
splattered from the back of his head. His mouth opened, but no sound came
out. A thin trickle of blood trailed from the corner of his lips and
splashed the ground. In the light of the full moon, I could see the life
fading from his eyes as he stared at the man holding the smoking gun.
I slapped my hand over my mouth, desperately trying to stifle a scream. I
wasn’t successful. I stood rooted to the spot, my mind trying to
process the horror of what I’d just witnessed.
The murderer swiveled and looked straight at me. He was a huge monster of a
man, with tattoos covering every available inch of skin on his heavily
muscled arms. His chest was wide, and no doubt just as muscled beneath a
skintight shirt.
His eyes were cold and hard as he brought the gun around and pointed the
deadly weapon straight at me.
Survival instinct kicked in. I turned and ran.
Shots rang out behind me. One. Two. The bullets went wide, the
shooter’s aim hindered by the moving target.
Me.
I was the moving target. He was trying to kill me. The third shot scorched
a fiery path across my side. When I brought my hand down to my ribs, I could
feel sticky dampness oozing from a ragged hole in my jacket. A coppery smell
filled the air. Blood.
No time to stop and assess the damage. That wasn’t a warning shot —
it was meant to kill. Hopefully, that was a regulation gun, with a six-shot
magazine like you see in the movies. Three shots to commit murder, and three
fired at me. The asshole was going to have to reload before he could finish
me off.
Enough time for me to escape? I had to hope so. One hand pressed to the
throbbing wound on my side, I plunged into the heavy shrubs lining the
pathways. I’d be an easier target if I stayed on the paths. Better to
get a few scratches. At least it was too dark away from the path to follow
the trail of blood I was undoubtedly leaving behind.
The murderer didn’t waste any time coming after me. His progress was
marked by heavy thumps of his boot as he charged down the path. Hopefully he
hadn’t seen me dart into the bushes. “You can’t escape,
you little bitch,” he snarled. “You’re pissing me off, and
that’s going to make it worse when I catch up. Give up now and
I’ll take it easy on you.”
I doubted that. Considering I’d just watched him kill someone in cold
blood, he wasn’t likely to pat me on the head and send me on my way. I
paused and crouched down beside a flowering shrub. My heart beat so loud it
was a miracle he couldn’t hear it. Looking around, I tried to figure
out the shortest way out of the park.
“Did you see which way she went?”
“No, but she didn’t pass us, so she must be heading for the
road.”
Shit! There were two of them. I hadn’t seen a second man, but then
again, I hadn’t stuck around long enough to take in details.
“Makes sense. We need to stop her.” The sound of branches
snapping filled the air.
“These damn bushes are thick.” Even muttering to himself, the
murderer sounded closer. And cold-blooded. As if he were discussing an
annoying insect, not a human being. “You recognize the
bitch?”
There was a long pause. “She did look familiar. Maybe works one of
the bars in the brewery district? I think she might be a bartender. That
shock of red hair should make her easy to find.”
“Pity we didn’t get a pic.”
That remark was met with a derisive snort. “If we had time to get a
picture, we would have had time to end her and solve the
problem.”
“Do you think she can ID us?”
“I doubt it. It’s dark enough out, even with the damn moon
shining and she only saw us for a few seconds. I’m not even sure she
saw both of us.”
“Doesn’t matter. The boss ain’t going to be happy with a
witness running loose. We need to find her and wrap up the loose
ends.”
I had no illusions about how they intended to wrap up the loose end,
meaning me. I needed to get out of here and call the cops.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to move. I veered to my left, away
from the two thugs. Weaving my way as quietly as I could between the
ornamental shrubbery, I stayed low to the ground. I didn’t dare stand
up and make myself an easy target. That damn full moon was not helping me
now. The thought of being outlined against the sky terrified me, and the
bullet wound on my side hurt like hell.
The distance between me and the assassination squad widened. They were
following the path, but headed in the other direction, presumably directly
out of the park. Which meant I needed to circle around and exit by a
different route.
Thug number two raised his voice. “Come on out and discuss this,
girl. It’s not what you think. We can explain.”
That would be interesting. How did he think he could explain shooting
someone at point blank range? And the fact that he’d taken a few
potshots at me didn’t inspire much trust on my part. Not to mention
their talk of ending the problem, with me being said problem.
I worked my way in the opposite direction, lengthening the distance between
me and them. It felt like forever before I reached the edge of the park, not
too far from where I’d originally entered. Seems I’d been
walking in a circle.
I took a careful look around to make sure it was safe to emerge before
scurrying across the road and into the sheltering darkness of an alley. I
reached into my pocket for my cell phone to call for help. Not that I had a
whole pile of friends who could come to my rescue, but the cops needed to
know there was a dead body in the park. Maybe, if they were quick enough,
they could catch the murderous twosome before they escaped the area.
Crap! The phone wasn’t in my pocket. I knew I’d tucked it in
there when I left work, which meant it had fallen out somewhere in the
park.
An icy river of fear trickled its way down my spine. If the murderers found
it, they’d know who I was. Sure, there was a password, but I
wasn’t naïve enough to think it couldn’t be hacked, and
guys who committed murder wouldn’t balk at illegally hacking a phone.
Even if they didn’t manage to bypass the password, my home screen
picture showed me grinning like an idiot while standing in front of the bar
where I worked, the name of the bar clearly visible above my head. I thought
it was cute when I tagged it as the home screen picture. It might as well
say, come and get me!
Dumb. Dumb and Dumber.
Now what? I couldn’t very well go home and wait for the bad guys to
figure out where to find me, and I definitely couldn’t go back to the
bar.
The rustling of bushes in the distance made me jump. Sitting here stewing
wasn’t helping any. Sooner or later, those guys would double back to
find me.
Where to go presented an issue. It wasn’t like I had a loving family
waiting to protect me. I only knew one person who might be able to help me.
Then again, I’d dated his little brother in high school. I may have
burnt that bridge behind me.
Justin Maclean and I had been close once upon a time. Friends close, not
lovers close, although we had dated. It kept the other guys away. It was a
tough neighborhood, and we’d had each other’s backs. I’d
had a crush on his older brother James though. Tall, dark and brooding. Just
what every teenaged girl longs for.
Turned out the younger Maclean and I had very different dreams.
About the Author
Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little
rescue dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and
too many fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act
normal, but finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008,
and her fate was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage
Publishing and just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first
submission. Since then she has published more than thirty stories in a
variety of sub-genres, all with a happily ever after.
She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys
spending time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not
playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming,
playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.
Contact Links
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@changelingpress
