(Black Reign MC 11)
A Bones MC Romance
Motorcycle Club Romance
Date Published: February 21, 2025
Publisher: Changeling Press
Archangel is always perfect. In complete control. Which makes him a
challenge I can’t resist…
Sonya: Just because I put a blow-up doll in the neighbor’s holiday
yard ornament, or send various embarrassing items up the flagpole
occasionally, doesn’t mean I’m a bad person. But my father
doesn’t see things that way. So he sends me to a man he thinks can
help me “find my inner self.” Otherwise known as get some kind
of job. Just my luck, the man he sends me to is the man I’ve had a
crush on forever. Archangel is strong, soft-spoken, always in control, and
the most perfectly made man I’d ever seen. He’s unflappable. I
can’t resist, even knowing the price I’ll pay. I just hope I can
slink the walk of shame back home before he knows I’m gone. That might
be the only chance I have of protecting my heart.
Archangel: I don’t know what Thorn was thinking when he sent his
daughter to me. Sonya has plagued my every filthy fantasy since the first
time she came home from college to visit friends at my club. I’d known
then I needed to stay away from her. Not only am I way too old for her, but
her daddy is the president of their club. Which puts me and Black Reign MC
in a delicate position. What I could never have predicted was Sonya taking
matters into her own hands. Sonya running isn’t a surprising. Kinda
expected that. What wasn’t on my Bingo card was my forgotten past
catching up with me.
Excerpt
Copyright ©2025 Marteeka Karland
Two blocks down, I saw a big, black Harley heading our way. Even from this
distance the roar of the pipes was distinctive. And I knew the sound well. A
dense trail of smoke had covered the four lanes from where one of the
residences was burning a small pile of brush. Just like in the movies, the
big Harley I’d known was attached to that rumble parted the haze with
smoke circling behind him like a jet trail. The man sitting on the bike was
just as intimidating as the machine. All the scene needed was a slow-motion
sequence and it would be perfect.
Archangel. He was the most unflappable man I’d ever met. There was an
eerie calm surrounding him most of the time. Sure, he laughed and had a good
time like anyone else, but he was the peacemaker. The person everyone called
when they didn’t want El Diablo or El Segador to take up the cause.
More than once, I’d heard Archangel make the statement you knew when
you had a successful negotiation because neither party was completely
satisfied. He didn’t play favorites, and he was always fair, but the
man had a giant stick up his ass the size of a telephone pole.
He crossed across two lanes of traffic at the corner to pull into the
parking lot of the courthouse, not even hesitating at the light as he did.
Brazen, considering where he was, and that three deputies and two city cops
were sitting close by. He parked the bike in front of Lawdawg’s truck
before turning it off and putting down the kickstand. A long, thickly
muscled leg was lifted over the seat as Archangel dismounted and walked
toward the truck and Lawdawg.
I knew there was drool dripping from the corner of my mouth, but I
didn’t fucking care. Archangel was the most perfectly built man
I’d ever had the pleasure of viewing. No matter how many times I saw
him, he was still awe-inspiring. If anyone saw me, all I had to do was point
at the man and any red-blooded woman on the planet who looked would
understand. He wore snug, black jeans. The material clung to his hips and
thighs in all the right places. He didn’t have on a shirt, but his
plain, leather vest covered most of his rippled torso. Which left his arms
bare, and a sliver of chest and abdomen showing when he walked. Muscles and
thick veins roped his arms. Tattoos peeked from his vest and crept up his
arms. His salt-and-pepper hair was over his collar but artfully shaggy, and
his beard was full and neatly trimmed. Mirrored aviator sunglasses rounded
out his outfit. The man rocked it like the ultimate bad boy.
“Hoooooly shit. Are you seeing this?” Linnie sounded in awe and
I glanced at her sharply.
“What the shit, Linnie, you whore!” I wasn’t really mad.
This was how we communicated.
“What?” She didn’t take her gaze from Archangel and the
question was more of a demand. “Tell me you weren’t eye fucking
him too and I’ll be ashamed. Or something. OK. No, I won’t be
ashamed, but look me in the eyes and tell me you weren’t eye fucking
him. Besides, we always eye fuck him together.”
“I’d love to. But I’m too busy eye fucking him to look
you in the eyes and tell you I’m not eye fucking him. Because
I’m eye fucking him like crazy. Also, I’ve changed my mind. We
can’t eye fuck him together anymore.”
“You sure know how to pick ‘em, Sonya. If you change your mind
and decide he’s too much work, let me know. I’ll give it a
shot.”
“Like hell.” I turned and hissed at my friend.
“Mine.”
“You know he’s so much older than you as to not be believed,
right? The man is practically ancient!”
“Red and Rosana have more of an age gap than me and
Archangel.”
“Right. Use their successful age gap relationship to justify your
own. I’m sure it will go over with your dad as well as it would with
my own father.” She had a point.
“Why’s he here, I wonder?”
“Don’t know, Sonya, but if the look on his face is any
indication, the reason can’t be good.”
Whatever was being said between Archangel and Lawdawg seemed to have gotten
under Archangel’s skin. He snatched his glasses from his face and
leaned into Lawdawg’s space. His lips moved, but I couldn’t tell
what he was saying. Mainly because Archangel had his teeth clenched. Lawdawg
shrugged and jerked his head toward the truck where we sat and watched them
from the back seat.
Archangel turned his head to look at the truck and us. Lawdawg spoke,
gesturing with his hands a couple of times while Archangel continued to
stare.
Finally, he nodded, and stepped away from Lawdawg, moving toward the truck.
Archangel came to my side and opened the door. “Come on. Out with
ya.” When I hesitated, he added. “Or I’ll haul you out
over my shoulder. Choice is yours.” Though his eyes looked like he was
furious, his face was relaxed and his voice was calm.
“What crawled up your ass?” The only person in the world I
loved pushing more than Lawdawg was Archangel. Probably because both men
were so naturally uptight yet unflappable. Anyone who followed the rules so
close to the edge should feel anxious at least some of the time. Neither of
these men were. Both of them stayed true to their consciences, but when the
shit hit the fan, they were the calm, driving force behind fixing the fan
and cleaning up the shit.
“When I’m called an hour and a half away to take a young woman
in hand who’s acting like a spoiled teenager, it tends to eat away at
my social niceties.”
“Look, you don’t want my company, I’ll happily catch a
ride back with Linnie and Talia. I’m not sure why anyone called you to
begin with. I don’t belong to your club.”
“No. You don’t, thank God, but your daddy thinks you need a
come-to-Jesus meeting about what you’re gonna do with your life. I owe
him one, so I got drafted.”
I blinked. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Afraid not, Sonya. Now, come with me. We’ve got a long ride
ahead. You can rest tonight, but tomorrow we’re going to sit down and
figure out your next steps in life.”
“Oh really.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “What if I
don’t want to talk with you about my future? I happen to like my life
the way it is.”
“And that’d be great. Except for stunts like this.” When
I would have continued to argue with him, Archangel snagged my upper arm and
pulled me with him to his bike. His hold wasn’t painful, but it was
clear he wouldn’t tolerate me trying to get away from him.
About the Author
Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double
life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated
housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes
pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited,
vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a
blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her
writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning
delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying
conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.
Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband
with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for
preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts
(which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with
Marteeka's latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her
website. Don't forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you
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Contact Links
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@changelingpress
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