HAWK by Lynn Burke @evernightpub @AuthorLynnBurke

Hawk
Fallen Gliders #2
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
Artwork: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art
Projected Release Date: July 26, 2018
Keywords: MC Romance, Contemporary, Erotic, May/December
 

*Be warned: Spanking, anal sex

 

As a member of the Fallen Gliders, bad boy biker Hawk Richards tends to use his fists first and has fucked his way through the club whores. Life has been a never ending supply of bikes, women, and beer. When his brother hands in his colors, Hawk is sworn in as the new Sergeant at Arms and struggles to find meaning in the club and his existence. Until her.

Janie is curvy as fuck and the sweetest thing Hawk has ever seen. The young woman with the joy of life in her eyes is everything he’s been missing, everything he’s ever wanted. When the little butterfly falls into his arms, he wonders if someone might finally look beyond his ink and reputation to see the man hiding underneath.

Janie’s life has always been a roller coaster, and even though she’s flying high with Hawk, she knows a crash is inevitable. The last thing she wants is for him to be burdened with picking up the pieces. But how can she resist him? His touch makes her burn, and every minute in his bed intensifies her craving for more.

Can Hawk convince Janie he wants her for the long haul, or will the secret she keeps tear him from her side forever?

 
 
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EXCERPT:
 
We’d been in Sturgis for almost a week, and I hadn’t fucked a single woman. My outlook on life sucked the previous couple of months, to the point the thought of having my cock shoved down a willing throat or burying myself balls-deep in some random cunt didn’t even twitch my dick. I felt like a wind-blown leaf with no sense of purpose, no desire for sex or companionship. I’d taken to drinking harder stuff than my usual beer but knew the slump I floundered in wouldn’t end well unless I decided to pick my ass up and figure out my life.
Perhaps today’s the day, I told myself, picking up the shot of whiskey our waitress sat in front of me.
A flash of red-brown hair drew my gaze to the far left before I could pop out the toothpick and down my drink. A little butterfly with gray-green eyes flashing along with her wide smile. Dimple, full lips, high cheekbones—a fucking model in a tight tank and Daisy Dukes.
My cock thickened inside my leather pants, and my head turned as she slowly passed by the picture window, her face animated and lips moving as she chatted with her friends, the joyful gleam in her eyes snaring me tight. She radiated life, an exuberant, light step while I wallowed in my shit life.
Jealousy and yearning for what she experienced clenched my chest, and I found myself rubbing a hand over tattooed pecs I spent hours sculpting on a daily basis.
The little butterfly passed beyond the window, and I sat back, not realizing I’d leaned forward to keep her in sight.
“Finally see something worth fucking?” Jonny asked with an elbow to my ribs.
“Fuck, yeah. Reddish hair—not the dyed kind—and tits out to here,” I said around my toothpick, holding my hand out a few inches away from my chest. “Young and full of life.”
One of Jonny’s eyebrows rose. “What the fuck you sitting here for?”
I hesitated to glance around the group of men—fellow Fallen Gliders from across the States, discussing the lighter aspect of business. A large meeting had taken place the night before, the heads of the chapters sitting down to discuss the future of our club. Just more depressing shit to pile on life.
“Go on,” Jonny encouraged, elbowing me again.
 I hopped off my stool and pushed my way through the crowd for the front door. At six-foot-five, I had no trouble seeing over most of the heads bobbing to my right as I stepped out onto the sidewalk.
The roar of mufflers and cranking music from Christ knew where filled my ears as I breathed in the scents of exhaust, sweat, and cheap perfume in the night air. I took a half-dozen steps to the right, scanning the crowd of people on the sidewalk in front of me before pulling up short. No fucking way I was going to find her unless I acted like an asshole and shoved people out of my way while hurrying the way she’d gone.
Curses flew from my lips while I turned back toward the bar. A voice in my head sang a country hit, reminding me that if we were meant to be, it’d be.
“No fucking luck?” Jonny asked as I slumped back onto the stool.
My scowl sufficed for an answer.
Tipping back my head for the whiskey burn didn’t help my shit mood. Neither did the bloody burger and pile of fries fifteen minutes later. Thoughts of the little butterfly warred with depression in my mind, and I called it an early night, leaving my brothers behind. The quietness of the hotel didn’t offer anything but a hot shower where I could blow the load that had been building in my balls for weeks.
At least I had a semi-purpose … find the vivacious little butterfly and steal some of her joy in life for myself.
© Lynn Burke 2018
 
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ABOUT LYNN BURKE:
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
 
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NICKY by Lynn Burke @evernightpub @AuthorLynnBurke


Nicky
Fallen Gliders #1

 

 

 

Art Work: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art

 

Keywords: MC, Erotic, Contemporary, May/December

 

 

*Be warned: Spanking, anal sex

 

Dominic “Nicky” Landon has been a Sargent at Arms for the Fallen Gliders for thirty years. When he finds out his only sister overdoses on drugs dealt by his brothers, he hands in his colors and severs ties to the club and vicious lifestyle forever.

Mel Hughson owns the only bar in hicksville, no-mans-land, New Hampshire. She’s content with her single life, but the cold, spring night Nicky Landon’s Harley rolls into town ignites her desire. The fact he’s got at least twenty years on her doesn’t mean jack to Mel. He’s hot, he’s dangerous, and whether he knows it or not, he belongs to her.

Can Mel tempt Nicky to ignore their age gap and surrender to her, or will the secrets from his perilous past rise up to destroy everything?

 Excerpt:
 
We knocked the liquor back, and our gazes met as we set the glasses on the bar.

“How old are you?” Nicky asked, his attention snagging on my lips.

“Twenty-eight.”

He scrubbed a hand over the beard lining his jaw while looking away. “So damn young.”

“Not too young.” Gauntlet thrown, I waited for his attention to return to my face. Eyes full of lust, a leashed animal that ought to scare the shit out of me but didn’t.

“I’m no good.”

I cocked my head and slid my gaze down over him, not missing the hard length straining against his leathers. “Look pretty damn good to me.”

His low groan rushed need through me again, and I knew I’d leave a wet spot on the stool once I got up.

“You’re messing with fire, little girl.”

Heat flushed through me. “I enjoy flames now and then.” My breath caught at the hunger on his face, parting my lips.

“Fuck it.” He grasped my chin in his warm palm. “I’ll give you what you want, little girl, but don’t go crying to your mommy in the morning because a big bad wolf left his mark on you.”

Oh, God. I swallowed and squeezed my thighs together. Older men were so the shit.

He captured my lips, but without the brute force I’d expected. Hunger, yes, but the full softness of his lips pressed against mine, taking and tasting, his tongue probing, whiskers brushing my skin. I parted my lips and moaned as he sank his tongue into my mouth, fucking every hidden corner, filling me with the taste of whiskey and pure male. My skin pebbled, pulse thrummed.

“Goddamn.” Nicky stood and yanked me off the stool. Virile, pure hardness and muscle beneath the leather hiding his skin from my grasping hands. His fingers fisted in my long hair, tangling and yanking my head to the side, the other grabbing my ass and hauling me against his huge cock.

He crouched down slightly and pulled me up. My legs wrapped around him as though having a mind of their own—even though I had been thinking about getting him between my legs all night long.

His beard brushed along my neck as he breathed me in and licked from my collarbone to my ear. “You smell like a fucking spring day. Innocent.”

“I’m h-hardly an innocent,” I gasped as he bit my earlobe and ground his cock against my sopping jeans.

“Thank God, because I want to be balls deep inside of you. Now.”

He thrust, and I moaned, my fingers grasping at his t-shirt.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered harshly in my ear.

“No way in hell.”

With a growl, he squeezed my ass to the point of pain. “I haven’t wanted a woman like this in a long fucking time.”

“So take what you want.”

“Goddamn.” He rested his forehead on mine. “Right here?”

I slithered a hand between us to grasp the hardness inside his leathers. “Right now.”

“Fuck.” Like my five-foot-six frame and thirty extra pounds meant nothing, he spun me around. “Hands on the bar.”

I did as told, bending at the waist and putting my ass on display with a little wiggle.

“Don’t move,” he said while peeling off his leather jacket.

My legs trembled, and I turned my head to watch as he moved to the front door and flicked off the lights.

The streetlight half a block away barely cut through the storm, but the flash of lightning lit Nicky up as he stalked back toward me, shedding his t-shirt.

Broad shoulders … another flash filled my eyes with tanned skin stretched tight over massive pecs and abs a twenty-year-old guy would kill for.

I licked my lips, hoping for another flash of light, but Nicky palmed my waist and leaned over my back, his cock pressed against my ass, the heat of his skin searing me through my shirt.

My eyelids fluttered shut as he wrapped his fingers around my hair again and tilted my head back.

“Last chance, Mel.” His rumbling voice and hot breath against my ear brought a moan past my lips.

“Take me,” I managed to whisper and licked my dry lips. “Please.”



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About Lynn Burke:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.