Hook
No Prisoners MC Novella
By
Lilly Atlas
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: April 11, 2017
After ten years
away, Marcie is finally venturing back to where she grew up. She isn’t in town
for twenty-four hours, when she crosses paths with Hook and Striker, the two
boys who kept her safe and happy as a young girl. Only they aren’t boys
anymore. They are fully grown, muscular, and alpha men. Members of the No
Prisoners’ motorcycle Club. All through her teenage years, Marcie’s heart
belonged to Hook. Not that he ever seemed to notice. And it appears that as an
adult, not much has changed with regards to her feelings toward the sexy biker.
But a bossy, alpha man is not what independent Marcie is looking for.
The moment Hook
lays eyes on Marcie, it’s as though the last ten years apart never existed. He
wanted her back when she was off limits, and it doesn’t take long before he
realizes he still wants her. Marcie’s changed, though. She’s no longer a
frightened teenager in need of a safe haven. Now she’s a beautiful, confident,
and a bit too independent woman. Will Hook be able to convince Marcie a life
with him wouldn’t stifle her independence? Their relationship is tested when
Marcie clings to her hard-won life and when an aspect of that life threatens
not only their future together but their safety as well.
“It's got twists
and turns, it’s steamy and sweet. It's a fast read and can standalone.” - OMG
Reads
Chapter
1
Marcie
lifted the long-necked bottle to her lips and drank a sip of the warm, stale
beer she’d been nursing for the past forty-five minutes. As the tepid liquid
filled her mouth, she cringed and forced herself to swallow. The desire to
finish the beverage had long fled, but she needed something to keep her hands
and mind occupied. With a small grunt of disgust, she set it down on the table
and let her gaze wander around the smoke-filled bar.
She couldn’t imagine any place she would rather be less than she
wanted to be in this bar, back in her hometown of Crystal Rock, Arizona,
sitting next to the boyfriend she desired about as much as the lukewarm beer.
It wasn’t his fault. Timing sucked. They’d only been dating for two weeks when
her mother passed. Really, she hadn’t been all that interested in him, but it
was nice to have something to do a few nights a week. Ugh, that sure sounded
shallow. Poor Tanner had tried to coax her onto his lap, but that would have
made her look dependent on him for comfort. And she wasn’t. She barely knew the
guy.
For the
first time in ten years, Marcie had made the trip back to Arizona. She’d
returned to bury her mother, a miserable woman who spent the majority of
Marcie’s childhood stoned and in bed with one random man or another. They
hadn’t spoken in almost five years, and while she wasn’t surprised to learn of
her mother’s passing, Marcie was truly shocked to discover what little the
woman possessed was left to her only child.
A
second shock came when her new boyfriend—if she could even give him the strong
label—Tanner, offered to accompany her from Seattle to the unassuming town of
Crystal Rock, claiming he wanted to assist in settling her mother’s affairs.
The show of support touched her, and in a weak moment she caved to his request.
Had she been in her right mind, she’d have turned him down. His help wasn’t
necessary. She could handle the trip and her mother’s meager affairs on her
own, as she handled everything else life threw at her. Independently. Alone.
Lonely.
But Tanner insisted, and for the first time in years, she
relented and allowed someone the possibility to take care of her. And she’d
been secretly relieved by the knowledge that she wouldn’t have to make the
journey alone. That was until he invited two of his friends, and turned the
trip into a bro’s trip complete with a two-night stop in Vegas.
From the moment Tanner hit the gas and left Seattle in the dust,
aspects of his personality she hadn’t yet been introduced to began to emerge.
Unfortunately, he transformed into an overgrown frat boy would couldn’t see
past his next drink. Even his buddies Cameron and Billy seemed surprised by his
slide back to his college days. What did she expect? This is what she got for
giving a man she just met some control over her life.
His party mentality wasn’t impressive and she wasn’t they type
to overlook poor behavior on the off chance it would improve with time. Nope,
she was done with him.
The
kind thing would probably be to just inform him tonight that they were through,
but her brain was fried and she’d much rather do it back in Seattle, and not in
a town where more bad than good memories lurked around every corner.
So,
she’d end it as soon as they returned, and she’d be on her own once again. And
wasn’t that just how she liked it? It wasn’t the eighteen hundreds. She could
and would take care of herself. Too much of her childhood was spent afraid and
cowering behind the protection and care of two very special friends. Now, she
lived how she wanted without depending on anyone for anything.
Fatigue weighed heavy on Marcie’s shoulders. She’d spent eight
hours, today, sifting through a run-down trailer full of tragic childhood
memories, and that was after a very simple and unattended burial service.
Spending another night with three men who were happiest when in whichever bar
was closest was about as appealing as a trip to the gynecologist.
Glancing
down at her lap, she smoothed the front of the simple, yet elegant, black skirt
she’d worn with a black blouse to the lonely burial. Marcie had been the only
person in attendance, unable to wake a hung-over Tanner before she had to
leave. Her prostitute mother hadn’t had true friends, and alienated her family,
so Marcie was it.
Tanner downed his own drink then grabbed her abandoned beer to
polish that off as well. He clanked her beer bottle on the table and she
jolted, lost in her own melancholy thoughts. “Damnit, Marcie, this is piss
warm. Go grab me a new one from the bar.” As he spoke he gave an unaffectionate
tug on her short blonde hair. “I gotta take a piss. Where the hell’s the john?”
He glanced around the crowded bar. “Jesus, there’s so many people here it’s
gonna take me a year to get to the damn can.”
Marcie
shot him a death look, but refused to allow him the satisfaction of seeing her
rub the sore spot on her head. Tanner had been in a rotten mood all day, complaining
about being stuck in Crystal Rock with nothing to do while Marie dealt with her
mother’s personal effects. God forbid he offered to help. Not that she need it.
She handled it without him. If she had enough energy to deal with the fallout,
she’d just walk away tonight, but she couldn’t handle a confrontation right
now.
Relief
was almost immediate as she left the three men at the table. The one and only
reason she followed his command to grab a beer was to get away from them a few
minutes. Tanner was right about one thing. The bar was jam packed. It took
quite a bit of fancy maneuvering to work her way to the bar without rubbing up
on every body in the place.
With a
heavy sigh, she took a seat at the bar in no rush to grab the attention of the
cute bartender.
A
commotion from the opposite side of the dimly lit bar caught her attention, and
she turned in time to see a group of large, gruff bikers enter the
establishment. Growing up in Crystal Rock, there was no way to escape knowledge
of the No Prisoners motorcycle club. They ran the town, and had always
patronized Black’s as their bar of choice.
No surprise, the tattooed men in leather were accompanied by a
gaggle of women with tiny skirts and even smaller tops, leaving less than
nothing to the imagination.
“What’ll
it be, darlin’?” the young, thin man slinging bar asked with a flirty smile,
most likely hoping to garner a larger tip. A bull ring ran through his septum
and his hands resting on the surface of the bar had the words game over
tattooed across the knuckles.
“Another
please,” she said, indicating the bottle she’d returned to the bar.
“Sure
thing, sweetness. Be right back.” He winked as he turned to grab her beer.
Shaggy dark hair stuck out from under a backwards baseball cap and his tan was
nicely on display around his dark grey wife beater. Obviously, this was a
casual establishment.
She
smiled, charmed by his friendly nature. Crystal Rock boasted an eclectic mix of
people from all walks of life. A few seconds later, he returned with the
uncapped beer and another flirty wink. Marcie paid and swiveled on the stool.
Looks like she’d stalled long enough. Time to rejoin the bromance at her table.
“Holy
shit! Marcie? Marcie Barringer?” The voice was familiar, but she couldn’t quite
place it.
Her
head snapped around, and she came face-to-face, well face to chest—the man was
tall as a building—with Dylan Parker.
“Dylan?”
she asked, unable to keep the delight from her voice. Without thinking, she
launched herself off the stool, landed against his hard chest with a grunt, and
wrapped her arms tight around the body that was no longer that of a young boy,
but a full-grown man. And a hot one at that.
He
seemed just as elated to have run into her, and returned the embrace with
gusto. “I can’t believe it, Marce,” he said, gripping her arms and holding her
away from his body. He raked her up and down with his eyes. “Damn girl you grew
up into something gorgeous. I like that pixie haircut. Fits you.”
Marcie blushed, but couldn’t remove the giant grin from her
face. She’d known Dylan for as long as she could remember. Without him, she may
not have survived her childhood, at least not in one piece. Neither had any
siblings, and, being six years older, Dylan had appointed himself her surrogate
older brother and protector.
He was the one person from the childhood that she could remember
truly caring about her. It was a sibling kind of love, and she hadn’t seen him
since the day she left Crystal Rock almost ten years prior. The boy grew up in
to one hell of a sexy man, and apparently was now a member of the motorcycle
club, if the leather cut he wore was any indication.
She could barely believe he was here, in front of her. Time
melted away at being near her surrogate big brother and she felt like the past
ten years had never occurred. He was tall, muscular, and deadly looking, with
dark, almost black hair and chiseled features that made him look every bit the
dangerous man he probably was now. The thought made her laugh. She knew way too
much about him to ever consider him a danger, at least not to her.
Damn it was good to see him.
“I can’t believe I ran into you, Dylan,” she said, giving him
another quick squeeze.
“It’s
Striker now, babe.” An arrogant smirk played across his lips.
“Striker?”
“Handle given to me by the club, on account of my impressive
skills.” A teasing glint lit his eyes and he bounced on the balls of his feet,
fists up in a boxer’s stance. He was forever getting into fights as a kid. As
he grew into his teens, he put that energy to good use learning to box, and
becoming quite proficient in the sport.
“Striker it is then,” Marcie returned.
“What are you doing here, hon? How long are you in town?” he
asked, genuine concern filling his voice.
That concern was so familiar, a warmth she hadn’t experienced in
far too long bloomed in Marcie’s chest. As long as he’d known her, he’d been
concerned about her wellbeing, and at the time she’d been too young to
appreciate the rarity of a man who wanted nothing more from her than her
happiness. Marcie shrugged. “My mom passed. I’m here for a few days dealing
with the details.”
Striker grimaced. He’d had a front row seat to the shit show
that was Marcie’s childhood, and knew full well what a deadbeat her mother had
been. “Shit, Marce. I wish I’d known. I’d have offered to help you. Is there
anything I can do now?”
“No, Striker, there isn’t much left and I can handle it.”
He slung an arm around her shoulders and steered her back to the
bar. “Well then, we at least need to have a drink or ten, while you’re here.
Wait until Hook sees you here. He’s gonna flip his shit.”
She
raked her memory but came up with nothing. “Hook?”
Striker
laughed. “My bad, honey. Man, I forget how long you’ve been away. Remind me to
yell at you about that later.” He gave her a playful scowl. “TJ.”
Every
last drop of saliva dried up until her mouth could rival the arid desert. TJ
and Dylan, Striker, had been inseparable as teenagers and if she’d loved
Striker as a brother, her tender young heart and innocent body had loved TJ in
a very different way.
“Oh, there he is.” Striker gestured toward the end of the bar.
“Hey, Hook,” he hollered over the music and loud chatter, getting the other
man’s attention. “Get your ass over here. Bet you a lap dance you won’t’
believe who’s here!”
Marcie
was not in any way prepared for the punch to the gut she experienced when she
got her first look at Hook in ten years.
Holy
hotness. The man was the sexiest thing she’d ever laid eyes on. The boy had
been every teenage girl’s fantasy, but the man, the man was more than she’d
dared to fantasize about.
Every feeling she’d ever had for the bad boy she lusted after as
a teen came rushing back full force when that sinful mouth lifted in a wide,
genuine smile.
Lilly Atlas is a
contemporary romance author, proud Navy wife, and mother of two spunky girls.
By day she works as a physical therapist for a hospital in Virginia. Lilly is
an avid romance reader, and expects her Kindle to beg for mercy every time she
downloads a new eBook. Thankfully, it hasn’t happened yet, and she can often be
found absorbed in a good book.
No comments:
Post a Comment