From New York Times and Top 100 bestseller Marata Eros, comes a #1 Heist & Organized Crime Thriller and Top 100 Bestselling series.
Vince, aka Viper, is president of Road Kill MC and will wipe out whatever threatens the brotherhood of the men he leads. Candice Arlington is a deep undercover FBI agent closing in on the worst brand of sexual predators: flesh trafficking.
They say oil and water don't mix.
They were wrong.
When Road Kill MC mistakes her role for one of a liaison for the very ones they want to extinguish, Candice finds herself in a position of torture and eventual death, and the final sting to apprehend the man behind it all is unraveling fast.
Viper won't ask his men to do anything he wouldn't do. However, when Candice is at his mercy—Viper breaks his vow—taking what she offers. He doesn't realize their chance encounter wipes away the numbness he's been living beneath.
Candice is unable to forget Viper, and the life he symbolizes she gave up for the Bureau, but he's partially healed the wounds of the past.
When the nightmare of before reappears—can Viper protect Candice from a menace more dangerous than any other?
Viper is a full-length, standalone romantic suspense novel with hot sex, no cheating, strong language, an HEA ending and NO CLIFFHANGERS. Contains disturbing themes that might be uncomfortable for some. Perfect for fans of Joanna Wylde, and who also like the dark fare of Pepper Winters.
Full length standalone novel/446 paperback pages.
Genre: FICTION / Romance / SuspenseAn Amazon #1 Thriller and Top 100 bestselling series. Showcasing the biker president.
“I say kill the bitch,” Storm announces, reclining his big frame in the chair, balancing on the back legs.
Looking out over the brothers, I see everyone is in attendance, except Trainer. His old lady's poppinʼ out a kid, so he gets a pass.
A frustrated sigh slips out of me before I can rein it in.
Sometimes, a man is just a glorified babysitter, and this is one of those times. At the end of the day, I feel like I'm wrangling a posse of cats.
“Can't kill a chick—that's just wrong,” Wring states, and I watch Storm figuring he's got the balls to stare him down.
Interesting. Storm patched in recently, and he’s still gauging his weight within the hierarchy of the club. But Wring is an ex-Navy SEAL. He's quiet with his menace—like all of us ex-soldiers are. I was special forces too. Never revealed my ex-Navy SEAL status.
Didn't want to.
Kept shit to myself. Better that way. Gives the guys less to think about if they don’t know. If there's information about me from before I was the president of Road Kill MC, that only makes my job harder.
I dragged myself through the knothole of the Gulf War. Spent two tours there. The brothers of the Road Kill know those deets. Only Noose knows the shit I won't talk about.
Sometimes I catch the big bastard eyeing me up. Coming up with mental checks and balances. Or coming up with diddly squat.
Who the fuck knows? He's not exactly a transparent guy. I stifle a snort. That's a no-shitter.
But now we got a situation. First, it was the fucking gangs, then it was mafia bullshit. Now we got a sex-trafficking ring jonesing in on our region.
Not gonna happen on my watch. We don't like scum infiltrating our pond. Pissing where we live.
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Portuguese
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Unavailable for translation.
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