Slow Burn
(Lost Kings MC Book
#1)
Coming October 14, 2014
Synopsis
Forced to represent
an outlaw biker, a married attorney must come to terms with her feelings for
her client while avoiding the danger he brings into her sedate life.
President of the Lost Kings MC, Rochlan "Rock" North, hasn't managed
to find a woman capable of making him want to curb his wild ways—until he meets
sweet, innocent, married lawyer Hope Kendall.
Forced to represent the outlaw biker, Hope is rattled by her immediate
attraction to Rock. Hope is a good girl in a good marriage. Rock thrills her,
but she's not going to throw away everything she's built on a fling with her
criminal client.
Rock respects Hope enough to leave her alone, even as he realizes he's become a
little obsessed with her. When their connection endangers her life, he'll have to
destroy her in order to save her.
After tragedy strikes, Rock is determined to earn Hope's forgiveness and
convince her that even with their staggering differences, they're meant to be
together.
Approx Word Count:
68,000
Genre: MC Romance
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Links
Excerpt
First Meet
"Attorney
Kendall, could you stay and do an arraignment, please?" the judge
asked off the record.
Her jaw dropped, and
the color drained from her face. "Uh, I'm not a criminal attorney,
your honor," she stammered.
"It's pretty
simple. Mr. North's attorney got delayed. Don't make me appoint you,"
he teased.
"Well, um, just
for the limited purpose of this arraignment?" she asked with a
hopeful lilt to her voice.
"That's
fine."
The judge waved me
over next to her. Her big eyes widened in shock as I lumbered over. I was
mildly insulted. Had she really not noticed me the entire time I'd been
sitting there?
"I can pay
you," I whispered down to her.
She looked startled.
"It's okay. What are we dealing with?"
I liked the way she
said "we."
"Weed."
She gave me a blank
stare.
"Marijuana. Got
caught with a couple blunts." Acting on a bad tip from one of the
club’s many enemies, the cops had been hoping to pin a whole hell of a lot
more on me. This was why, instead of ignoring the weed like most cops did
these days, I was standing here in shackles and the orange jumpsuit.
"Oh geez."
She rolled her eyes. At me or the charge, I wasn't sure.
"Do you have a
record?"
"About a mile
long."
That stopped her.
She stared up at me, searching my face for the truth. Apparently deciding
no one would joke about that, she nodded her head.
"Can you post
bail? Do you work? Have a family?"
"Yes, yes, and
yes."
She didn't ask what
kind of work. Or what kind of family for that matter.
"Your honor,
I've had a chance to confer with my client."
"Very well.
Let’s call it."
His clerk stood and
read out, "The People of the State of New York versus
Rochlan North." Look at that—the old gal even pronounced my first
name right.
My girl looked up at
me again. My manners were shit. I’d never bothered to introduce myself, I
guess.
The judge
slammed his gavel down. First time I’d heard him do it all morning. The
sharp thwack broke the staring contest my pretty lawyer and I were engaged
in.
"Do you wish to
hear the reading of the charges, counselor?"
She hesitated for a
minute, and the judge covered the microphone with his hand. "Usually
the attorney waives the reading, Miss Kendall."
"I know, your
honor. Thank you. Yes, I'll waive the reading. May I have a copy of the
charges for my file, though?"
"Yes, of course.
Do you wish to be heard on bail?"
"Yes, your
honor. My client assures me he can pay a reasonable sum. He's a
hard-working family man, so it would be in society's best interest
to allow him to continue to work and provide for his family while he waits
to address these false charges."
I'm proud to say I
kept a straight face during all of that. She impressed me with her quick
thinking, though. Criminal attorney or not, she was clever. I had a
fondness for clever. Clever kept you alive.
Cute and smart.
I should get arrested more often.
"Very well.
Bail is set in the amount of five hundred dollars cash. If your client is
able to post it now, he can be processed downstairs instead of going back
to county."
She looked up at me
and arched an eyebrow. I nodded and motioned my crew forward.
"That's
acceptable. Thank you, your honor."
"Off the
record," the judge said to the court reporter. He looked back up at
my attorney. "See, that wasn't so hard, Miss Kendall." The
judge's face lit up in a wolfish smile I didn't take kindly to. Already in my
head, I'd laid claim to this woman whose first name I didn't even know.
The sheriff came
over and gripped my elbow.
"Can't you
remove the restraints, now?" she asked the sheriff with wide,
pleading eyes.
To say her request
stunned me would be an understatement. No one had ever given a crap about
my discomfort.
The sheriff did not
look surprised. He answered her gently. "No counselor, not till he's
posted the bail money. You can meet us downstairs." He nodded toward the
guys standing behind the banister. "His posse can show you the
way."
She hesitated, and I
read the expression on her face loud and clear. She didn't want to follow
my crew anywhere. In fact, she looked like she wanted to run away.
"Go ahead,
I'll be fine." I appreciated that she'd given it a try. Sheriffs
wouldn’t break protocol no matter how owl-eyed innocent she acted. It sure
turned me on, though.
Meet Autumn Jones Lake
In addition to
writing, Autumn runs her own business from home. A big fan of horror
movies and spooky books, it wasn’t until recently she realized all the
tales she writes need to include a hunky hero and a happily ever after. When
she’s not writing, she spends time listening to music, going to concerts,
reading, acting, and collecting nail polish. While those things are fun,
Autumn is happiest sitting in front of her computer into the wee hours of
the night, weaving stories the characters in her head whisper to her. She
lives in Upstate New York with her husband and their three rescue dogs.
She is actively involved with several dog rescue groups and her local RWA
chapter.
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