Devils
Marker
Sons of Sanctuary MC, Austin, Texas
Book 4
By Victoria Danann
Genre: MC Contemporary Romance (hot heat
level)
- The Waco, Texas Marauders MC is
on the verge of war.
- New arrivals, Stars and Bars
MC, are engaged in activities too nefarious for even the notorious
Marauders.
- New SSMC member, Win Garrett, is planted inside to get information and fill a marker owed by the club.
New
York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Victoria Danann, adds a bit of
grit and reality to the runaway hit series Sons of Sanctuary. Devils Marker is
a tale of romance and suspense loosely based on actual events.
CAN
BE READ AS A STAND ALONE.
A
biker who walked away from a SoCal outlaw club came to the SSMC seeking a quiet
life that might become a long life. Little did he know he was jumping out of
the frying pan into the fire when the club president asked him to fill a marker
owed to a Texas Ranger.
Win
Garrett chose the fast track option to respect and a full patch with the club,
but things changed when the daughter of the Marauders' prez caught his eye. Now
all he wants is to get out alive with the little blonde bombshell who has his
heart clenched in a vice grip with passion pink fingernails.
"Suspense,
loyalty, brotherhood, compassion, humor and romance...Sons of Sanctuary has
something for everyone."
“I could be marked.
Clubs have a way of figurin’ things out.”
“That’s why it’s gotta
be up to you. Full patch comes with full backing. Of course.” Win looked out
the window, seemingly working through all the pros and cons. “You left your old
club in good standing. Right?”
“Yeah.”
“So they’d speak for
you if asked.”
“I suppose. The leadership
had become kind of… unpredictable.”
“That happens. If you
were asked, just explain it like that.”
“You sound like you
think I’m sayin’ yes.”
“Got a feelin’ you’re
leanin’ that way. Am I wrong?”
Win shook his head.
“No. You’re not wrong. Kinda wish you were. I was just gettin’ the accounts set
up and…”
“When you get back
you’ll have that plus a lot more. You do this for us, you got our trust with
our backs and our money.” Brant took a sip of coffee and then said, “But not
our women.”
Realizing that his
anxiety and indecision was creating tension in the room, Win consciously
decided to lighten the mood. He grinned. “Your wife is…”
Brant said, “Stop
right there, prospect. You got no call to say a word about the mother of my
sons. No matter how beautiful and smart and polished and rich she is.” Brant
grinned, but in a way that was more menacing than teasing. “You need some time
to think about it?”
Win shook his head.
“Thinkin’ about it’s not gonna change a thing. So no point. I guess I’m in. But
for the record, I’d like to have it known that I’m not into reckless or
suicidal. Got your word that my loyalty won’t be questioned? I mean if I
survive?”
“I got a strong
feelin’ you’re gonna be back as a full patch member. If I didn’t believe that,
I wouldn’t have even brought this up. But I’ve been doin’ this long enough to
say that when my gut speaks, I listen up.”
Win gave a nod that was
both slight and unconvincing, more an acknowledgement than an agreement. “And I
have your word that my loyalty won’t be questioned again. Ever.”
Brant stilled and
looked the younger man squarely in the face so that he could absorb the
seriousness and sincerity of the answer. “Yes. You do. I’m gonna call the
Ranger right now, with you sittin’ there. So stay put.” Brant punctuated that
order by pointing to the chair underneath Win’s firmly muscled behind.
“Call me back,” Brant
said into the phone. “While we’re waitin’, why don’t you tell me if there’s
somethin’ I need to look after regardin’ the accounts you’ve been messin’
with.”
Win took exception to
the term ‘messin’ with’, but chose not to challenge the club president about
his word choice. He opened his mouth to reply, but Brant’s phone rang. Brant
looked at the face of the phone and accepted the call.
“He’ll do it. But if
anythin’ goes wrong, you’re gonna answer to me personally.” Win could hear the
muted sound of a vocal response, but couldn’t make out the words. “Stipulation.
He’ll have full immunity. No. Matter. What. And he will not testify to anything
later. He’ll give you a one on one confidential debriefing. In secret. Just the
two of you. This is a deal breaker. Take it or leave it.” Brant paused to let
the other man respond. “Just to reiterate. We’re talkin’ about a month maximum.
And, if anything, I mean anything, goes south before that, I don’t care if it’s
an hour after arrival, he’s outta there.”
As Win sat and
listened to the one sided conversation his respect for Brant blossomed. The
prez negotiated like a lawyer and seemed to really give a damn about Win’s
future.
Brant hung up and
looked at Win. “Gotta protect our golden goose.” Brant opened a drawer and
pulled out a new burner phone.
Two brothers
unknown to each other on a crash course with fate and two broken hearts.
Brigid was a
graduate student at the University of Texas. It wasn't hard getting her thesis
approved, but finding a Hill Country motorcycle club willing to give her access
to their lifestyle was starting to look impossible. Then she got a lead. A
friend of a friend had a cousin with family ties to The Sons of Sanctuary.
Perfect. Or so she thought.
Brash was
standing in line at the H.E.B. Market when his world tipped on its axis. While
waiting his turn to check out, his gaze had wandered to the magazine display
and settled on the new issue of "NOW". The image on the cover,
although GQ'd up in an insanely urbane way, was... him.
After reading
the article, he threw some stuff in a duffle and caught a plane to New York, on
a mission to find a mysterious asshole walking around with his face.
Brandon St.
Germaine was at the top of the billionaire playboy heap when he learned about a
side of the family that had been kept secret. He left New York, moved to
Austin, and took most of the corporate empire with him.
His dad,
president of the club his grandfather founded, spent three decades converting
the club's income sources to legitimate business dealings. One of the biggest
earners was the security service. When a ridiculously wealthy, but justifiably
frightened father hires the SSMC to protect his daughter from the psycho she's
divorcing, Brand gets the job.
EXCERPT...
Cannon
Johns was a man who'd once had the world in his hands and lost everything. When
he rode his Harley underneath the motel office overhang just after midnight, he
was soaking wet and looking for the only comfort life still had to offer. The
escape of sleep.
After
being told there was no food available at that time of night, he pulled his
ride into the room he'd just rented and went looking for dinner in the vending
machines. When he was eight feet away, he saw movement by the Mountain Dew
column. In addition to being bone weary, world weary, and out of options, he
was out of sorts with no patience for shenanigans.
"Come
on out of there and state your business." He had to raise his voice to a
near-shout to be heard over the pounding rain.
After
a slight hesitation, a small figure emerged in a yellow plastic poncho, the
kind you can get at the grocery store for a couple of bucks. As soon as she
reached up to pull the hood back from her head he knew it was a woman by the
delicate size of her hands and the way she moved.
The
light was dim, but he saw her clearly as if it was noon on a bright sunny day.
His late wife had once told him that he had to change out the light fixture in
the kitchen because "nobody looks good in fluorescent light". The
girl standing in front of him was proof it just ain't so.
Her
eyes were violet blue. And wide. He wasn't sure if that was because of fear or
misery. Like him, she soaking wet. Unlike him, she was shivering. Whether that
was from fear or cold he couldn't guess.
"What
the hell you doing out here, girl?" He looked around. "Something got
you spooked?"
She
licked her bottom lip. "No, ah, I'm just a little down on luck is all. I
don't want any trouble."
"Don't
want no trouble, huh?"
It
wasn't a question. He said it as if it was a provable fact. She shook her head
to both punctuate his assessment and agree with it.
"Yeah.
Me, neither. At least not tonight."
New York Times
bestselling author of eighteen romances including paranormal, scifi, fantasy,
contemporary, and teen. Victoria's Knights of Black Swan series won BEST
PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES and PARANORMAL ROMANCE NOVEL OF THE YEAR the past
FOUR YEARS IN A ROW. This past year two of her series took the top two places
and two of her books took first and second place Paranormal Romance of the Year
category. - Reviewers Choice Awards, The Paranormal Romance Guild.
Her paranormal
romances come with uniquely fresh perspectives on "imaginary"
creatures, characters, and themes. She adds a dash of scifi, a flourish of
fantasy, enough humor to make you laugh out loud, and, occasionally, enough
steam to make you squirm in your chair. Her heroines are independent femmes
with flaws and minds of their own whether they are aliens, witches,
demonologists, werewolves, hybrids, psychics, or past life therapists. Her
heroes are hot and hunky, but they also have brains, character, and good
manners... usually.
The rich
characterizations come from being a lifelong student of behavior, casually, and
a serious student of behavior academically. She also studied comparative
religion, myths, and Dark Ages history.
Victoria lives
in The Woodlands, Texas with her husband and a very smart, mostly black German
Shepherd dog.
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