She’s the only thing good about his former life, and he’s been asked to end hers.
Serenity Jones never expected her homecoming to be heralded with a double-murder, or that she’d be the lone witness. Yet when she points the finger at the president of the Lucifer’s Legion Motorcycle Club, she finds herself the target of more than just an investigation—she’s a liability, one Lucifer’s Legion is determined to erase.
Dash Denyar owes everything to Lucifer’s Legion. A decade prior, he set himself on a path of self-destruction, and would have crashed and burned were it not for the motorcycle club. His loyalty was bought and paid for—he just never expected the price of loyalty to include ending the life of Serenity Jones, the only woman he ever loved.
Serenity has dreamed of her reunion with Dash ever since she left her hometown behind. Never did she imagine it would be on the other side of a blindfold, or with her life in the balance. As she tries to work out what happened to her childhood friend, she finds herself battling more than just survivor’s instinct. Ten years of unspoken feelings, regrets, and what-ifs threaten to break her, if Dash doesn’t do it first.
Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of kidnap, murder, references to drug use and suicide.
Publisher's Note: This story has been previously released as part of the Wild Angels anthology by Totally Bound Publishing.
General Release Date: 9th January 2015
She’d been here before.
The vein-chilling, hard-pounding, sweat-inducing edge to which only pure panic could drive a person—oh yes, Serenity Jones knew this place well. She’d visited numerous times over her short and rather unremarkable life, most often for reasons or problems fabricated by an overactive imagination. The first true anxiety attack had come at age nine, when she’d been certain her father was right, and she would spend an eternity in Hell. The most recent had been nearly seven years earlier, when she’d come face-to-face with the reality that she didn’t believe in Hell, or God, for that matter, and the world wasn’t as terrible as she’d been told.
Sessions with her therapist had taught her that panic—the sort that was produced in the mind—was the brain’s way of reacting to disorder-induced fears as though she were in actual danger. Serenity had always assumed finding herself in an actually dangerous situation would bring about a different sort of biological reaction. She’d been wrong.
Her arms hurt, stretched above her head, joined by a cuff at the wrists. At least, she assumed it was a cuff. The blindfold prevented her from doing much outside of guessing.
Blindfolded. Cuffed. Holy fuck, what happened?
There was the panic again—pulsing through her body like an old friend. She kicked her legs out, the flaps of her dress—or skirt, she couldn’t remember—sliding across her skin. Her feet, bare, rubbed against what felt like a concrete floor, catching on jagged particles. Pebbles? Whispers of dirt met with her skin. A thick, pungent but familiar smell tickled her nostrils. Motor oil?
Tears burned her eyes, and something else burned too. Her shoulder. Her right shoulder was torturing her. God, what had she done to her shoulder?
Serenity whipped her head, trying to dislodge the blindfold. No use. It didn’t budge.
Slowly—oh so slowly—the panic began to ebb. Not due to lack of reason or fear, but rather because it had nowhere to go but down. Her hammering heart sought a more reasonable tempo, her body—cold, clammy and drenched with sweat—began to rein in the tremors. Wisps of clarity penetrated the hard fog surrounding her brain, and she forced herself to think.
All right, Serenity. Focus. What’s the last thing you remember?
Serenity panted for air, shoving back the urge to vomit. Her last memory was Ellison. Ellison seeing her to car, favoring her with one of his swarmy lawyer smiles, and vanishing in her rear-view mirror.
Then—nothing.
No, not nothing. Squealing brakes. Stomach falling. The twisted scream of metal. A flare of pain. The car caving in.
Okay, so she’d been in an accident.
Her heart began racing once more as her panic cycle shoved her into another round. Serenity bit her lip and kicked her legs out again. Again, her skin took the brunt of dirt and scattered bits of debris. Again, she inhaled in the increasingly familiar scent of oil and exhaust fumes.
A car accident didn’t explain why she was blindfolded and cuffed.
Then it hit her. The missing pieces. Ellison had smiled his swarmy lawyer smile because they’d just concluded dinner—the same dinner he’d talked her into taking with him after the last meeting to rehash her testimony.
The testimony she was supposed to give tomorrow. Or today, more likely.
The testimony that would put Gunner Pierce permanently behind bars.
When the panic started climbing this time, Serenity didn’t fight it. She couldn’t if she’d wanted to. The tears that had assaulted her eyes began to fall, and everything in her went with them.
Gunner Pierce had every reason to keep her away from the witness stand, and endless resources to make that happen.
She was here because he wanted her to be here. Because he wanted her silent.
The only question was, why on earth was she still alive?
Serenity twisted, her tightening stomach alerting her that she was about to be very sick. She didn’t know where she was, but she did know she didn’t want to vomit all over herself. Instinct commanded her to turn just before the wave hit, and she emptied her stomach onto the floor beside her.
Rosalie Stanton is an award winning erotic romance author in the paranormal and contemporary genres. A lifelong enthusiast of larger than life characters, Rosalie enjoys building worlds filled with strong heroes and heroines of all backgrounds.
Rosalie lives in Missouri with her husband. At an early age, she discovered a talent for creating worlds, which evolved into a love of words and storytelling. Rosalie graduated with a degree in English. As the granddaughter of an evangelical minister, Rosalie applied herself equally in school in the creative writing and religious studies departments, which had an interesting impact on her writing. When her attention is not engaged by writing or editing, she enjoys spending time with close friends and family.
Reviewed by Multitasking Mommas
To the very end, Rosalie Stanton keeps the reader at the edge while Rennie and Dash fight against their baser instincts and the will to survive. It just keeps you guessing how the story will finally unfold....
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Rosalie Stanton - Blog tour stop with Carly's Book Reviews
If you had told me six months ago I would have a novella in a motorcycle club anthology, I likely would have laughed in your face. While I love a good contemporary romance, my focus this year has been on other projects. Also? I would have been quick to assure you that I couldn’t pen a motorcycle club novella because I had never read a motorcycle club romance. It simply wasn’t on my radar.
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Rosalie Stanton - Wild Angels Exclusive
Did you have to do a lot of research for this story?
Yes, because I had never read a motorcycle club book before! I was asked to participate in the anthology by my fabulous editor, whose belief in me made me believe I could do it. I didn’t want to be influenced too heavily by existing works, though, so I ended up stalking the Sons of Anarchy Wikipedia page—since I haven’t watched the show, either—to get an idea of the culture. I also researched some true-to-life outlaw motorcycle clubs. The region where I decided to set the story is actually in my neck of the woods, and the ingrained crime culture here made a good backdrop.
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