(Dixie Reapers MC)
Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense
Date Published: March 21, 2025
In the heart of the South lies the Dixie Reapers MC -- an unbreakable brotherhood bound by loyalty and secrets. But when a fierce storm brews both outside and within the club, all bets are off.
Kasen -- I’ve spent my life hiding in the shadow of my father, Tank, the previous Sergeant-at-Arms for the Dixie Reapers. He’ll never understand my crush on Tempest, the current SAA, so I’ve kept it to myself. But until recently, I thought Tempest only saw me as a child. Now that I know he wants me the way a man wants a woman, I have to decide if I have what it takes to be his woman. Belonging to the Dixie Reapers’ Sergeant-at-Arms isn’t for the faint of heart.
Tempest -- I may be the Sergeant-at-Arms, but one pint-sized half-Hispanic woman has me tied in knots. I shouldn’t want Kasen. She’s off-limits -- one of Tank’s little princesses. Yet I can’t get her off my mind. When she’s kidnapped, I feel the rage taking over. They’ve dared to touch what’s mine, and now I’m going to make them pay. Once I have Kasen back by my side, I’ll make sure she’s never out of my sight again. I’m done hiding how I feel.
Get ready for a tumultuous ride of love, loyalty, and fierce retribution.
WARNING: Tempest is part of the Dixie Reapers MC series, but can be read as a stand-alone. It’s intended for readers 18+ due to adult situations, violence, and bad language. There’s no cliffhanger, no cheating, and a guaranteed HEA!
EXCERPT
The sight of Kasen sitting with an unknown man at the café across the street made my blood boil. I gripped the handlebars of my Harley Davidson Road King, knuckles turning white as I fought the urge to storm over there.
Who the fuck was this guy? I watched them laughing and talking like old friends. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to intervene, to protect what was mine.
But Kasen wasn’t mine. Not really.
I inhaled sharply, trying to regain control. My fingers flexed, itching to throttle something. Someone. The tension coiled in my muscles, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice.
My eyes narrowed as the stranger leaned in closer to Kasen. Too close.
“Easy,” I muttered to myself, though the growl in my voice betrayed my inner turmoil.
I had no claim on Tank’s daughter, no matter how much I wanted her. How much I’d always wanted her, even when I shouldn’t have. But seeing her with another man awakened a primal possessiveness I could barely contain.
The roar of my bike’s engine would be so satisfying right now. A warning. A challenge.
I resisted. Barely.
My gaze remained locked on Kasen, drinking in the sight of her. The curve of her smile. The toss of her hair. Memorizing every detail as if it might be the last time I saw her.
Because if I gave in to this rage, it just might be.
Kasen’s laughter rang out again, a melodic sound twisting something deep in my gut. She leaned forward, gesturing animatedly as she spoke to the stranger. Her eyes sparkled with mirth, her whole face lighting up in a way I’d rarely seen.
“Damn it,” I muttered, my teeth grinding together. The sight of her so carefree, so open with this unknown man, felt like a knife to the ribs.
Who the hell was he? Some clean-cut pretty boy, by the looks of it. No patches, no ink visible. Nothing like the MC life Kasen had grown up around.
My mind raced, possibilities flashing through like gunfire. A boyfriend? A date? Just a friend?
Each option stoked the fire of jealousy burning in my chest. I shouldn’t care. Kasen wasn’t mine to claim. But logic had no place in the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
“You’re off-limits,” I growled under my breath, though whether I was talking to Kasen or myself, I couldn’t say. “Tank’s daughter. A club princess. Untouchable.”
But God, how I wanted to touch her. To stake my claim. To show this interloper and the whole damn world that Kasen belonged with me.
The rational part of my brain, buried deep beneath layers of possessive fury, knew I needed to take a step back. She wasn’t mine. But watching her laugh with another man felt like a betrayal of something I’d never even had.
As Sergeant-at-Arms, it was my job to protect the club and its family. Kasen was both. The urge to march over there, to drag her away from potential danger, burned through my veins like wildfire.
I let out a soft growl, trying to reason with myself. This little prick wasn’t a threat. Too damn soft. I could probably break the fucker with one hand. I needed to keep my ass right where I was -- watching from a distance.
The consequences of overstepping would be severe. Tank would have my head if I made a scene over his little girl. And the club… well, they’d start asking questions I wasn’t ready to answer.
I tore my gaze away from Kasen, trying to focus on anything else. The café’s outdoor seating area bustled with life. Servers weaved between tables, trays balanced precariously. Laughter and chatter filled the air, a stark contrast to the tension coiled within me.
The street was no better. Cars crawled by in the mid-afternoon traffic. Pedestrians hurried along the sidewalks, wrapped up in their own little worlds.
All of it -- the noise, the movement, the life -- felt distant. Unreal. My entire universe had narrowed to a single point: Kasen, seated just yards away, completely oblivious to my presence.
My heart slammed against my ribs. I felt like a caged animal fighting for release. I gritted my teeth so tight I thought my teeth might shatter. This wasn’t me. I didn’t lose control, didn’t let emotions rule my actions. But something about Kasen…
“Fuck,” I growled, low and guttural.
I shouldn’t care. She wasn’t mine, had never been mine. Just a kid with a crush, off-limits in every way that mattered. But watching her now, all grown up and laughing with some stranger, it felt like a sucker punch to the gut.
My fingers twitched, aching to reach for a cigarette, anything to occupy my hands and calm the storm raging inside me. But I couldn’t risk losing sight of her, not even for a second.
Then it happened. Kasen leaned forward, her delicate hand brushing against the man’s arm. It was casual, probably meaningless, but it sent a jolt of electricity through my body. My vision tunneled, narrowing to that single point of contact.
“Jesus Christ,” I hissed, my heart thundering so loud I was sure the whole damn street could hear it.
The bike beneath me vibrated, responding to the tension in my body. I forced myself to breathe, to loosen my death grip on the handlebars. But I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Kasen, from the easy way she touched that man.
It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter. But try telling that to the green-eyed monster clawing its way up my throat.
My mind raced, weighing options. I could storm over there and show this nobody who he was dealing with. But the consequences…
“Fuck,” I muttered.
Tank would rip me apart if he thought I was sniffing around Kasen. No one dared touch his triplets. Hell, I hadn’t even been aware any of them had been on date before. Did he know where his precious daughter was right now? Who she was with? Would he approve of her being with someone like this kid?
But the sight of her, laughing and carefree, made my blood boil. What if this guy wasn’t what he seemed? What if Kasen was in danger? He didn’t look like he had enough muscle to do much harm, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t the brains behind some sinister operation.
I flexed my fingers, fighting the urge to reach for the knife at my belt. “Get it together,” I muttered to myself. “You’re the Sergeant-at-Arms, not some lovestruck teenager.”
The title sat heavily on my shoulders. I had responsibilities, a duty to the club that came before everything else. Even my own wants. Even Kasen.
But as I watched her lean in closer once more to the stranger, something primal roared to life inside me.
About the Author
Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still managing to end on a satisfying note each time.
When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book. She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies. Visit Wylde's website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and don't forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts and other exciting perks.
Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde
Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress
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