Tag Archives: Anne Kane

Rattler Teaser

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(Riptide MC)

Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense

Date Published: November 7, 2025

 

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Lily ran from a nightmare straight to Rattler’s arms. He’s all leather,
muscle and lethal promise. Dare she hope for an HEA?

Lily — Abusing me was bad enough, but when my a**hole of a boyfriend
threatened to shoot a tiny kitten, I brained him with a pot of spaghetti sauce
and ran — straight into the arms of the tattooed VP of the Riptide MC.
He’s everything my ex isn’t, and that gives me hope. He promises
to keep Scrapper and I safe, but my ex isn’t the forgiving kind. He said
he would kill me if I left him and I know he’s going to come looking for
revenge.

Rattler — She might be younger than me in years, but there’s a world of
experience looking out of those gorgeous eyes, and it isn’t the good
kind. When she pulled a gun on me, I knew she was my kind of woman.
She’s on the run from an a**hole who used her as a punching bag. He
might have the local law enforcement in his pocket, but me and my brothers in
Riptide have military experience, and sometimes vigilante justice is
necessary.


Trigger Warning: This is an MC action thriller romance. It contains violence,
abuse, coarse language, vigilante justice, and adult situations. No cheating,
no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after. Enjoy!

Rattler tablet

 

EXCERPT

 

Rattler

Thor and Janet were actually going to tie the fucking knot! I suppose I should
have seen it coming, but they’d been playing friends-with-benefits for
so long I guess I thought that’s all they’d ever be. And now here
I was — sitting in a bakery waiting for a box of frilly wedding-type cupcakes
to take back to the clubhouse for the old ladies to sample. Not sure how I got
conned into playing fetch. I was happy for them and all, but you’d think
they could have sent a prospect, not the fucking VP.

The bell on the door tinkled, and I looked up as a woman came in. She looked
rough. More than rough. One eye was black, and through the open collar of her
coat I could see a circle of greenish yellow bruises on her neck. Her clothes
looked like she’d slept in them, and she had a bulging backpack slung
across one shoulder. She looked young, too young to be stuck in the kind of
relationship those bruises indicated.

She glanced in my direction and quickly looked away. Yeah, she was scared of
something. Or more likely, someone. She walked up to the counter, and I
noticed a slight limp. Probably from the same incident that gave her that
black eye.

Maybe I was wrong. Ace always chided me for jumping to conclusions. She could
have been in a car accident or tripped and fallen down a flight of stairs. The
problem was, in my experience, that only happened once in a very long while.
I’d bet my bottom dollar there were more bruises hidden under her
clothes, in varying shades of blue, yellow, and purple. Evidence of an ongoing
series of attacks.

Impotent assholes who beat up on their women were one of my triggers, and I
looked outside to see if maybe this was my lucky day. Maybe the asshole was
here with her.

She asked the woman behind the counter for a coffee, and when the lady turned
to get it, she grabbed a muffin and stuffed it in her pocket. The attendant
turned back and sat the cup of steaming coffee on the counter and rang in the
purchase. Pulling a few bills out of her bra, the newcomer paid the bill and
hurried back outside, gulping the coffee down as she went. I watched as she
turned the corner and headed down the alley beside the bakery.

Standing, I strode over to the counter. Tossing a couple of bills on the
counter, I smiled. “For my coffee, and the muffin you forgot to charge
my friend for.”

“Your friend?” Her brows raised in disbelief.

“That’s right. She must not have seen me waiting for her.
I’ll be back in a few minutes for those cupcakes.” I pivoted and
strode out the door before she could ask exactly how anyone could miss seeing
someone as big as me.

I turned the corner and saw the woman crouched down at the far end of the
alley, petting a kitten that had its head poked out of her backpack. She gave
me the side-eye as I sauntered toward her, trying to look as unthreatening as
possible.

I obviously didn’t do a very good job. She waited until I was about ten
feet from her, far enough away not to touch her but close enough to block the
view of anyone who happened to walk past the mouth of the alley. Then she
straightened up and pulled the gun out from under her shirt. She made damn
sure I saw her flick the safety off.

“Don’t come near me.” She pulled the backpack a little
closer as if to protect the tiny scrap of a kitten in it.

Did I seriously look like the kind of guy who’d hurt a kitten?

Apparently, she thought so. I held my hands up. “I just wanted to talk.
I’m not going to harm you.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Tim send you?”

I frowned, taking in her battered appearance. “Tim the guy that did that
to you?”

She didn’t answer for a moment, and the gun didn’t waver.
“Fuck off.”

I had to work at not smiling. The swear words sounded cute coming out of such
a tiny thing. “No, I have no fucking idea who Tim is. I just saw you
come in and nick that muffin and wondered if maybe you needed a hand. I paid
for the muffin, by the way, so you don’t have to worry about
that.”

She snorted. “Not high on my list of worries right now.”

“Fair enough.” I gestured at the ground. “Doesn’t look
all that comfortable down there. Care to come back into the bakery and we can
talk?”

“Why would I want to talk to you?”

I shrugged. “I’m a nice guy. No offense, but it’s pretty
obvious you’re running from someone. Maybe I can help. Do you have
somewhere to go? I can offer you and your little companion there a
ride.”

Her eyes narrowed, and I could see her calculate the odds of me being a serial
killer. “I’m looking for the Riptide MC. Do you know where to find
them?”

 

 

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.

Author Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter (X)

Goodreads

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

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

 

 

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Thor Teaser

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Riptide MC, Book 4

 

Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense

 

Date Published: September 5, 2025

 

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Janet — Thor is an addiction I can’t seem to overcome. He’s
everything I’ve ever wanted in a man, and everything I can never have.
They call him Thor for a reason — he looks like a modern-day Viking with that
shaggy blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and ropes of muscles covered in
intricate tattoos. And in bed the man is definitely a god who grants my every
secret desire. I walked away from the marriage my parents tried to force me
into, but I’m not naive enough to think they’re going to let me
go. They have money. Power. Influence. They know how to bend people to their
will. They will make sure I marry someone they approve of, and it
doesn’t take a genius to figure out they will never approve of Thor.

Thor — Janet is mine. I know she knows it, too. I can see it in her eyes,
hear it in her voice, feel it every time we make love. But she refuses to wear
my cut and freaks out if I mention anything permanent. I have no idea what the
fuck her issue is, but it doesn’t matter. I want her, and I’m
going to have her if it takes me the rest of my fucking life to convince her.
I want her to come to me willingly. I love her enough not to force her.

Now I just have to stay alive long enough for that to happen, because someone
wants me dead.

 

Thor tablet

 

EXCERPT

 

Thor

Fuck, that woman frustrated the hell out of me! I knew there had to be a
reason she balked at making our relationship public, but she just kept evading
the issue. I was a hair’s breadth away from having Shadow snoop into her
and see what was up. I knew that would cross a line, but I wasn’t sure
it was one I cared about. Did she have an ex she didn’t want me to know
about? Or one that still had a legal claim on her? Because I could fix that
without breaking a sweat.

She didn’t act like someone running from an ex though. It had a
different feel to it, and that’s what scared me. More like she
didn’t want people to know about me because they thought she could do
better. Admittedly, she probably could but that was just too bad. I had her
now, and I had no intention of letting her go.

“Cassie, huh?” I looked at Joker.

He shrugged. “Like I said, we met at the tattoo parlor. She was getting
a dragonfly on the back of her shoulder. Said it was in honor of her
grandmother who’d had a thing for them.”

“And?”

“And we got to talking. You know. Families. Life. Shit like that. Ended
up at the steakhouse for dinner, and I invited her to come watch the races
with me today.”

I nodded. “So not a long-standing secret affair you’ve kept from
the club all this time?”

He smirked. “You mean like you and Janet? Nah. At least not yet. I
haven’t told her about Riptide.”

I sighed. Everyone except Janet seemed to be aware of our status.

A ruckus over at the far side of the room caught my attention. Two burly guys
were half leading, half dragging a woman toward the back exit, and she was not
going willingly. Squirming and letting out muffled screams through the hand
one of them had over her mouth.

“Fuck. Looks like she needs a hand. I’ll be back in a
minute.”

“Need me for backup?”

The two were nearly at the door, one swearing loudly as the woman stomped on
his foot. “Two against one? I think I can handle it. Keep Janet amused
for me.”

Joker laughed. “No problem. I’ll tell her about the time you
thought the monkey crying in the jungle was a kid and just about got yourself
killed going to rescue it.”

“Asshole.” I stood and shouldered my way across the floor to the
trio. By the time I reached them, they’d manhandled the girl outside and
the door was closing behind them.

“Not so fast, guys.” I pushed the door open and stepped outside,
ready for a little exercise. I hadn’t been in a decent fight in weeks.

As the door snapped shut behind me, I saw the girl standing alone on the far
side of the alley. In the second that it took for my brain to register that, a
fist slammed into the side of my head.

Ambush!

Fuck!

Not my first one though, and I ducked low, twisting to the left as a second
blow glanced off my shoulder. I brought my fists up to protect my head, and
aimed a roundhouse kick at my assailant, connecting with a satisfyingly meaty
thud that drove him backward.

The second guy was quick, and he had a knife. Holding it low, he slashed
upward.

I jumped back, and the blade traced a shallow path across my abs.

He bared his teeth and came at me again.

I kicked low, hitting his knee and causing him to stumble. Out of the corner
of my eye, I saw the girl turn and run, waving to my attackers as she headed
out of the alley.

Fucking slut wasn’t waiting around to see the outcome.

The first guy came in from the side, pummeling me with his fists. I ducked to
the side, getting my back against the wall so they couldn’t come at me
from behind.

Still, two against one, with one of the two brandishing a knife.

Didn’t look good, but I wasn’t going out without a fight. Fuck
that. Vikings had coined the term berserker, and they didn’t call me
Thor for nothing.

Letting out a furious battle cry, I threw myself at the knife-wielding thug. I
got in a few good shots with my fists before a searing pain lanced through me.
A quick glance down showed a crimson gash open up on my side.

Ignoring the pain, I grasped his wrist, the one holding the deadly blade, and
twisted. The knife arched back, and wussy let out a scream of agony as it bit
into his flesh. He dropped to his knees, and I turned to protect myself from
his buddy.

The next few minutes stretched out like a slow-motion movie. At this point in
my life, hand to hand combat was second nature.

Attack.

Defend.

Kick.

Twist out of reach.

Punch.

Duck under the next blow.

I could do this on autopilot, like a choreographed dance. If not for the wound
at my side, I would have made mincemeat out of this clown in minutes.

I was holding my own, but I could feel my strength waning as a crimson trail
of blood dripped from the knife wound. Not as shallow as I’d first
thought.

My breathing was labored. My hits had less strength behind them. The pain was
getting harder to ignore. I wasn’t going to last much longer but damned
if I wasn’t going to take this asshole down with me.

Just as the thug came at me yet again, baring his teeth behind a split and
swollen lip, the door slammed open, and Joker entered the fray. He might be a
medic, dedicated to healing but that didn’t mean he couldn’t
fight. Faced with a fresh opponent, and his sidekick lying motionless on the
concrete, the coward turned tail and ran.

“What the hell, man?” Joker took a few steps after the asshole to
make sure he was gone, then turned back to me. He grabbed my arm, gently
lowering me to the ground. “Where’s the girl?”

“Ambush.” I grasped my injured side, wincing. “She bailed
somewhere between the first punch and the knife.”

Joker eyed up the assailant lying motionless on the ground. “You had a
knife on you?”

I shook my head. “Nah. He brought it. I just turned it back on
him.”

 

 

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.

 

Author Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter (X)

Goodreads

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

 

 

 

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Beast Teaser Tuesday

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(Riptide MC)

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: June 13, 2025

 

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Her ex wants her dead. I’ll make him wish he’d never been born.

Piper — Discovering my ex was heir to the Las Vegas mafia totally freaked me
out, but we parted as friends. Or so I thought. Now he wants me dead. I barely
made it out of my house alive. I knew I couldn’t go back, so I called my
father in Georgia for help. His solution? He sent a biker to bring me home.
Imagine my surprise when the biker turned out to be my one-night stand from a
few months back.

Beast — A one-night stand with a sassy stripper in Las Vegas left me wanting
more. I couldn’t get her out of my mind, so a few months later I went
back to find her. That didn’t go so well. She’d disappeared, with
no forwarding address. Fate’s way of telling me to forget her?

I was getting ready to head home to Georgia when Ace called and asked me to do
a favor for Riptide’s FBI contact. His daughter was in San Diego, and
some thugs were gunning for her. She needed protection and transportation. I
was close enough to offer both in a hurry. Turns out Fate has a sense of
humor. I’m not sure how happy my little stripper was when I showed up to
rescue her.


Warning: This book contains violence, adult situations, bad language, and a
very protective alpha male hero. It is part of the Riptide MC series but can
be read as a standalone. There is no cheating, no cliffhangers, and a
guaranteed happily ever after.

 

Beast paperback

 

EXCERPT

 

Having a stripper in Vegas as your mom, you grow up fast. And cynical. All the
time I was growing up, my mom swore she had no idea who my father was, and I
believed her. I’d seen the endlessly changing parade of bed partners
while I was growing up. The list of possibilities for my father was probably
longer than the line up for free booze at a frat house party. When I turned
legal age, I did one of those DNA ancestry things, though, and I’d found
him.

An FBI agent. How ironic is that?

Turns out he was a pretty good guy though. He didn’t bat an eye when I
confronted him, just asked why he’d never heard of me before. I have a
feeling he already knew the answer to that one.

I wasn’t a “Daddy’s little princess” kind of girl —
too late to go down that road. He wasn’t the doting father type either,
so we got along okay. It helped that I lived in the West, and he lived in
Georgia. We’d only met in person once, but we kept in touch, and just
knowing I had one stable parent kind of made me feel almost normal. Almost.

Now it was time to find out just how much he cared. I tapped on his number in
my contact list and waited for him to answer.

“Hello, Piper. What’s up?” He sounded relaxed. Given the
time zone difference between coasts, he was probably settled in for the night
and watching whatever sport was currently being broadcast.

“Hey, Dad. Funny thing happened when I got off work tonight. Got a
minute to talk?”

“Sure.”

“Remember me telling you I’d been dating a guy named Drake, and it
didn’t work out so well?”

“Yeah. You’re not pregnant, are you?”

I rolled my eyes. “No. That would be really bad. See, what I
didn’t mention was the reason I bailed was because I found out Drake had
mob connections.”

“Mafia? Are you serious?” He didn’t sound relaxed anymore.
“Exactly what kind of connection are we talking about?”

I gulped. “He’s being groomed to take over his father’s
operations. As in he’ll be the next don. They run most of the illegal
activity in Vegas.”

Dead silence greeted my statement.

“Dad?”

“I’m here. Just trying to digest this. Ignoring the part where you
were dating a mafia kingpin, you split with that guy months ago, so what
happened tonight?”

“Someone tried to kill me. They said Drake ordered it.”

“That doesn’t make sense. He let you go and ignored you for
months. Why would he suddenly want you dead? No offence, but my experience
with those kinds of guys is they’re pretty casual about their affairs.
Once they’re done, they’re done and they move on, especially if
you were never involved in family activities.”

“Exactly what I thought we’d done. We said goodbye and both moved
on. I even took a gig in San Diego and left the area so I’m nowhere near
him. Haven’t seen him since the break-up. I have no idea what the hell
is going on, or why he suddenly wants me dead.”

“Did he ever discuss his business dealings with you, or did you ever
overhear anything you shouldn’t have?”

“No. I was clueless, until he suddenly decided to fess up. I had a
feeling he wanted out. He knew I wouldn’t hang around once I found
out.”

“Okay. We can figure that out later. Right now, we need to get you safe.
Where are you?”

I looked around. “Hiding under a willow tree a couple of blocks from my
house. Empty lot on the corner.”

“Right. I’m going to send someone to pick you up and bring you
here. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll call you back with details.”

“Thanks.” I let out a sigh of relief. Glancing down at my phone, I
realized it had been less than an hour since I’d left work. Amazing how
quickly life could change.

Ten minutes later, my phone buzzed. Dad. I hit accept.

“Good news. One of the groups we use for security happens to have an
agent in your area. He should be there to pick you up in twenty minutes or so,
depending on traffic. Just a heads up, he’s on a bike. You okay with
that?”

“A bike, as in a motorcycle?”

“Yeah. He’s a big guy, lots of leather and tattoos. He looks a
little rough, but he’s decent and I told him to get you a helmet.
Luckily, he was out there on personal business and was just getting ready to
head back here to his home base. There’s a hamburger joint two blocks
east of your position. He’ll meet you there. I sent him a picture so
he’d recognize you. He’ll ask if you like the ocean. You answer
yes, but the riptides are dangerous. Got that?”

I knew the place he was talking about. I stopped in there occasionally for
takeout. Despite the shabby exterior they made damn good hamburgers. This was
starting to sound like a B-rated movie, though, with code phrases and
clandestine meetings. “Are you serious? About the ocean question?”

“You need some way to recognize each other. Code phrases work just fine
for that.”

“Okay. I got it. Yes, I like the ocean, but the riptides are
dangerous.” I paused. “Dad?”

“Yeah, Piper?”

“I appreciate this. I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m glad I can help.” He made a sound
halfway between a chuckle and cough. “Not like I have a ton of kids
running around, and we’re just getting to know each other.”

“Thanks anyway.” I stood up and brushed the dried grass and dirt
off my backside.

“Call me when you’re safe with Beast.”

“Beast?” That didn’t sound comforting.

“Just what the guys call him. He looks like someone you’d cross
the street to avoid. Might look scary if you don’t know him, so Beast.
He’s an ex-SEAL and they tend to come with muscles.”

“Okay. A beast on a bike.” I tried to sound cheerful. “Talk
to you soon.” Disconnecting the call, I slung my purse across my
shoulder. I tucked the phone into my hip pocket so I’d feel it if it
vibrated. It occurred to me that Drake had this number. Once I was safely out
of California, I’d have to do something about that.

The burger joint was packed, but I managed to squeeze into a booth toward the
back. I had a good view of the parking lot out the window, and anyone looking
for me would have a hard time seeing me through the crowd at the front.

I ordered fries and a coke. Having someone take shots at me had killed my
appetite but I needed to order something to justify taking up a table. I was
pushing the food around on the plate when the sound of a motorcycle penetrated
the chatter of the dinner time crowd.

The biker pulled his machine up to the front of the building and dismounted.
Dad was right. That guy was huge. Tossing his helmet onto the seat, he raked
his hands through his hair and grabbed a duffel bag from under a cargo net on
the back seat before heading inside. The door hadn’t closed behind him
before his gaze rested on me, pinning me in place.

Picking up a toothpick from the counter, he stuck it in his mouth like a
cigar. A grumpy frown marred his rugged features as he strode between the
tables to where I was sitting.

Shit. I knew that face. And that body as well, although there were a lot fewer
clothes on it the last time I saw it.

And the last time I’d seen him, his name was Johnny, not Beast.

He slid into the seat across from me, his gaze pinning me in place. “So,
how do you like the ocean, Piper?” he asked.

 

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.

 

Author Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter (X)

Goodreads

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

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Ride ‘Em Cowboy Blitz

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BDSM Romance, Contemporary

Date Published: June 6, 2025

 

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When Fiona sees a gorgeous cowboy ride up on his Harley, she figures it’s
her lucky day. Bikers don’t do forever, right? Her perfect match!

She really isn’t in the market for a lover, or a partner, or some guy to
give her a sappy-sweet happily ever after. Been there, done that, got the
scars to prove it. They can tell each other a few lies, scratch each other’s
itches, then go their separate ways.

The last thing she needs is to hook up with some guy she’ll smack headlong
into at church tomorrow. She just wants a nice one-night stand. She plans to
be long gone come breakfast time.

Simple, right? So how did it all go so very wrong?

Ride 'Em Cowboy paperback

EXCERPT

Fiona wasn’t really in the market for a lover or a partner or some
guy to give her a sappy, sweet, happily ever after. Been there, done that,
got the scars to prove it. She didn’t believe in any of that romance
novel type crap. All she needed was a nice quick fuck to take the edge
off.

Okay, maybe not so quick. She was wound pretty tight. It could take a
while. She’d be happy spending a few hours trying out different
positions and options. According to the Kama Sutra there were over
sixty-four sexual positions, and she’d only tried about a dozen of
them, tops. Lots of fun still waiting in those pages.

She didn’t want any strings attached, though. She hated it when the
guy felt he had to pretend to care about her just to get into her panties.
She planned to be long gone before it was time to discuss breakfast
options.

She wasn’t some weak-kneed virgin with stars in her eyes. She knew
the score. She’d been married at the tender age of seventeen and the
term “hell on Earth” didn’t begin to describe it. Sure he
said he cared, but his brand of caring had left her so gun-shy she refused
to attend any and all weddings, let alone participate in one in any way. At
twenty-two, she was done trusting anyone else with her happiness or
well-being.

She still bore the scars from her last tiff with the hubby, and the bill
from a month spent in the hospital recuperating. The doctor said he could
maybe do something about the scars, make them less visible, but she figured,
why bother? She’d earned them, and at the current interest rate on the
loan she’d had to take out to pay the hospital bill, she’d still
be paying for them a decade from now.

She picked a bar four towns over for her evening’s activities. No
chance she might run into the guy at church the next day. She attended
church every single Sunday, rain or shine. Not sure why. Not sure if she
still believe in God and heaven, but she sure as shit didn’t want to
go back to hell.

Again, been there, done that.

The flashing neon sign over the door claimed the beer was cold and the band
was hot. She felt the corner of her lips curl up in a smile. Now that
sounded like exactly the kind of place where she’d find what she was
looking for.

She pulled her old Chevy truck into the parking lot and undid the top four
buttons on her blue-checked shirt. She had decent boobs, and the frilly
black bra she’d bought last week showed the cleavage off nicely. She
was wearing jeans and cowboy boots, and she’d spent a goodly amount of
time on her makeup.

She knew she looked good. Not office-type good, but I-want-to-get-laid
good. The blue shirt showed off her eyes, and the jeans showed off her ass.
She had to suppress a giggle at the thought of her co-workers. Her day job
was as a receptionist at a church and her boss, Reverend Mac, would have a
heart attack if he saw her in this outfit.

If she didn’t get laid tonight it wouldn’t be for lack of
trying.

The sound of a motorcycle approaching at Mach One had her turning her head.
Sure enough, a Harley the size of a small tugboat roared into the lot and
the rider did some fancy maneuvering to bring it to a stop without standing
it on the handlebars. The guy was either showing off for someone she
couldn’t quite see, or he needed a cold beer worse than she needed to
get laid.

That piqued her curiosity. She needed to get laid pretty bad.

She’d made the mistake of thinking she could get along without a man
but it turned out that adult toys only went so far toward satisfying her
carnal cravings. Nothing felt quite as good as a hot, hard cock ramming into
her pussy, and it needed to have a man attached to it for optimum sensual
sensation.

Yup, she needed a man, and a mouthwatering specimen was currently
disentangling himself from the Harley. He shrugged out of the well-worn
leather jacket, draping it across the handlebars, and she restrained the
urge to drool. His tight shirt outlined a muscular chest before it tucked
into a nice pair of jeans covered by leather chaps. No, wait. As she watched
the rider unbuckled the chaps and stuffed them into the saddlebags. That
maneuver required him to turn his back on her and bend over ever so
slightly.

Damn, those jeans looked good on him! She stared at that ass like a
dumbstruck teenager until the man straightened up and plucked a worn cowboy
hat from under the cargo netting on the back of the seat. Jamming the hat
onto his head, he sauntered over to the entrance. When he disappeared
through the door, she picked her jaw up off the floorboards and took a deep
breath. She could just imagine how gorgeous he’d look once she managed
to entice him out of the remainder of his clothing.

Taking a quick peek in the rearview mirror, she fluffed up her hair and
opened the truck door. Operation Get Some Action was officially a
go…

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.

 

Author Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter (X)

Goodreads

 

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

 

Pre-Order Today

 

 

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Deuce Teaser Tuesday

Deuce banner

Deuce cover

Riptide MC, Book 2

 

MC Romance

Date Published: March 7, 2025

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

 

First impressions and all that… Sophia tried to nail me with a tire
iron.

 

Sophia:

All I wanted was a decent guy who would treat me right and be a good dad to
the kids I’d like to have someday. My first two dates from the
“premier dating app” were total duds. Date number three gave me
the creeps in person. Turns out my instincts were spot on. He slipped
something in my coffee, threw me in the back of a van, and headed out to
sell me! Lucky for me, dad’s a doomsday prepper. Taught me mechanics,
hand to hand combat… all the things you teach your little girl if you
think the world is going to hell. So I pried the door open with a tire iron
and jumped out. And landed at the feet of a 6′ 6″ tatted up
biker.

 

Deuce:

When Rattler and I stopped behind a van at a railroad crossing. a woman
came hurtling out the back like an avenging angel. Blood dripping from road
rash on her arm, she still tried to nail me with a tire iron. Turns out a
trafficking ring abducted her, and she isn’t keen on the idea of being
sold to the highest bidder. She has guts, I’ll give her that. After my
old lady split, I thought I was done with couples shit, but Sophia makes me
rethink my life. Sophia’s mine, and if those assholes want her back,
they’re going to have to go through me.

 

WARNING: Deuce contains graphic violence and adult situations. There is no
cheating, no cliff-hangers and a guaranteed happily-ever-after. Enjoy!

 

Deuce tablet

Excerpt

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2025 Anne Kane

 

A fresh wave of dizziness assailed me, and my vision blurred.

“You don’t look so good.” George sounded concerned,
meeting my eyes for the first time since we’d met. “Some fresh
air might help. How about we step outside for a minute?”

“Good idea,” I mumbled. My tongue felt too big for my mouth.
What was happening?

I pushed myself to my feet, and George came around the table. Putting an
arm around my waist, he helped steady me as I stumbled toward the exit.
Thank goodness we’d picked a table near the door. The dizziness
worsened, and I was having trouble seeing.

“Can I help?” It was the girl from the counter. “Should I
call someone?”

By now, if George hadn’t been holding me up, I would have fallen flat
on my face.

“Can you get the door for us?” George sounded confident, like a
man who had things under control. “She just needs a little fresh
air.”

“No problem.”

She opened the door and I staggered outside, leaning heavily on George. The
fresh night air hit me in the face, but it didn’t make me feel any
better. My stomach started to churn. Add nausea to the list of
symptoms.

Someone wrapped an arm around me from the other side and helped George half
carry me across the parking lot. I turned my head, attempting to see who the
new person was but a fresh wave of dizziness assailed me.

“Parked the van over there away from the lights.”

That would be the new person. A guy. I didn’t recognize the voice.
Deep. Possibly sounding creepier than George. I tried to pull away but
whatever was happening left me too weak.

We stopped for a moment, and the creaking of metal hinges sounded loud in
the night.

“Up you go.” George grasped me by the waist. The touch of his
hands creeped me out, but I was too weak to protest.

“Careful. Don’t want to bruise her up. Hard to get full price
for damaged goods.” This comment came from the mystery man as I
concentrated on keeping the contents of my stomach where they
belonged.

“I know what I’m doing. Not like this is my first
time.”

I felt myself being lifted and placed down on a pile of material that
smelled like used motor oil. George’s presence disappeared, and I
heard the metallic echo of a door slamming shut.

I rolled over, and the sudden movement increased the nausea. I pushed
myself up on all fours, my head hanging down as I took deep breaths and
tried to steady myself. The smell from the questionable stuff under me did
not help with the nausea.

The floor shifted suddenly, and I lost my balance, falling to the floor. My
stomach heaved in protest, and I vomited up the bitter coffee along with the
lasagna I’d had for dinner before heading off to meet George.

Having emptied my stomach, I collapsed on my side, breathing heavily. The
nausea and dizziness retreated to a manageable level. I opened my eyes
cautiously.

I could see better now. It was dark, but as my eyes adjusted to the dim
lighting, I realized I was in some type of vehicle, and it was moving. I
recalled the words of the mysterious second man. A van – like a
delivery truck. There was a wall. I couldn’t get upfront to where the
guys were sitting. And I was damn sure I didn’t want to go where they
were taking me.

I pushed myself upright into a sitting position. Despite the lingering
dizziness in my head, one thing was abundantly clear. I needed to get out of
here.

I used a handful of whatever I was laying on to wipe my face, gagging at
the smell. Standing seemed like a bad idea, with the van lurching back and
forth. It needed a decent alignment. Or some new shocks. Whatever. Not my
problem.

I crawled to the back of the vehicle. I was still weak, but as my head
slowly cleared, I realized I must have been drugged.

The bitter tasting coffee. George must have slipped something in my coffee
when I went to get the rags to clean up his mess. Had the mess been
intentional to get me out of the way so he could spike my drink?

These guys knew what they were doing, and that spurred my need to escape.
There were two of them and one of me. Even if I managed to throw off the
effects of the drug, there was no way I could fight off two full grown men.
My imagination went into overdrive. I had to assume wherever they were
taking me was not public. They could do whatever they wanted and there would
be no one to hear me scream.

Fear-fueled adrenaline overpowered the remaining drug in my system. I
scrambled my way to the back of the van and clawed at the doors.

I screamed as loud as I could. Surely someone would hear me and go for
help. Or call the cops. People didn’t seem to want to get involved
these days, but surely a woman screaming from inside a van would get some
kind of response.

“Scream all you want. No one else can hear you,” George shared
with an repulsive chuckle.

Weren’t these delivery vans supposed to have a release on the inside
so people didn’t get trapped in them? I got unsteadily to my feet and
reached up as high as I could, sliding my hands down the doors. It had to be
here somewhere.

Two thirds of the way down, I found it. My heart sank. There was a latch
all right, but someone had broken it off. When I tried to push it, the latch
swung loosely around in a circle without any effect on the doors.

I screamed in frustration and banged on the doors until my hands felt raw.
Sinking down on my haunches, I let out a helpless sob.

I pulled myself together. I wasn’t going to just sit here and wait
for whatever sick plans these guys had for me. I crawled across the floor,
feeling frantically for something, anything, that I could use to pry the
doors open.

In the front corner, I found it. A tire iron. Gripping it tightly, I made
my way to the back of the van just as it lurched to a stop.

I could hear loud engines, other vehicles pulling up behind the van. I
screamed again. And again. Surely they could hear me, but I wasn’t
going to count on it.

Standing was a whole lot easier now that the van was still. I inserted the
sharp edge of the tire iron between the two doors and pried. Nothing
happened. I screamed in frustration and jerked harder on the tire iron.
Nothing.

I could feel time running out. Fear of what George and his buddies had in
store for me intensified with each passing moment. I had to get out of here.
No knight in shining armor was going to ride in on a white horse and save
me.

I moved the tire iron down so that it was in line with the broken release
and threw my entire body weight against it. For a second, it held fast. Then
the lock gave way with a loud screech of bending metal.

The doors burst open.

Off balance, and still gripping the tire iron with both hands, I fell out
of the van and landed on the pavement with a painful jolt. I rolled over and
staggered to my feet.

Less than a car length away, staring at me from the back of a shiny red and
chrome motorcycle, was the most dangerous looking man I’d ever
seen.

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.

 

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

 

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

 

 

Pre-Order Today

 

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

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