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About the author:
Shyla Colt is a quirky genre hopping rule breaker looking to diversify romance and take readers on countless adventures. You never know where you’ll end up or who you’ll meet in one her books If you’d like to learn more or just drop a line, please check her out at www.shylacolt.com.
What inspired you to write your book?
I wanted to explore the harsher side of life with an alpha male. I loved the challenge of blending the ugliness of the world with the beauty of love, and the domination with love and respect.
Here is a short sample from the book:
Demon paused on the edge of the bed, glancing back to take in Ardy’s form in the early morning sunlight. Her creamy, brown curves were a temptation he almost couldn’t resist. Any other morning, he’d be slipping his dick into her moist folds and waking her up properly. He ran his fingertips over her warm flesh. She looks so damn young right now. Supple and soft, her skin was the opposite of his calloused, blood-stained hands. A better man would’ve let her go. Mine…Everything in him balked at the thought of letting her go. He’d staked his claim last night, put her under the list of people you didn’t fuck with, unless you wanted your heart ripped out.
I guess I never claimed to be a good man.
Moaning softly, she rolled onto her back and exhaled. Her eyelids fluttered. She spotted him seated on the side of the bed and her eyes went wide. Pushing her sleep tousled curls from her round face, she studied him with slightly unfocused gaze. “What’s going on?” she asked in a husky voice.
The vibration of her voice filled his mind with erotic images of their bodies entwined. She licked her lips and he cleared his throat. Time to get my mind on the business at hand. “Going to church.”
She gasped and sat up, suddenly, fully awake. “Is this about last night?”
Demon paused. “You know we don’t talk about business to women. But you’re not stupid either, so I’ll say yes and leave it at that.”
“Are they going to come back?”
The fear that crept into her eyes hit him like a fist to the gut. His heart raced and he fisted the covers, willing himself calm. She’d had enough drama over the past twenty-four hours. The last thing she needed to add on top of it was seeing him lose his temper. He didn’t earn the name Demon by chance. If he unleashed his rage here, he’d destroy this room and set Harley and Rocket off. “Fuck no. They’re not that stupid or suicidal. They caught us with our pants down. It won’t happen again. I have men doing drive bys and two Prospects sleeping in the front room with enough firepower to take down a small army.” He leaned down and palmed the side of her face, rubbing the petal soft skin of her cheek with his thumb. “I’ll keep your safe. That’s a promise you can count on.”
She blinked and the moisture in her eyes receded. “I know that, really I do. I’m just—scared as fuck.”
“And that’s okay. I don’t expect you to be anything else. “
She bit her bottom lip. “I wish you could stay.”
“You know I need to handle this. The boys will keep you safe. I need you to be there for the kids.”
“I know.” A feeling of pride rose in his chest. She’d protected his children with the fierceness of cunning of a lioness guarding her cubs. He would never forget that. “Now, I need to leave. I’ll probably be gone all day. If you need anything let Rambler or Mumble know.”
“Okay.” She nodded.
“Get some more rest. It was a long night and the kids won’t be up anytime soon.”
He wanted to linger and reassure, but duty called. The M.C. came first always. Technically, that included his family, but as with soldiers, family members often were placed on the back burner when duty called. He stood from the bed and moved to the dresser. He grabbed a pair of clean boxers, jeans and headed to the bathroom without looking back. He could feel her eyes burning a hole in his back. This was the reality of life with him. She’d have to get used to it sooner or later. He’d never been coddled and he wouldn’t do it for her. It only made reality more painful when the time of pretense came to an end. I’m many things, but a liar ain’t one of them.
Beneath the steamy spray of the shower, he mentally plotted his revenge. Louis fucked up, coming after him. They’d seen their cuts. Even from a distance, it was unmistakable. No one else wore that particular dusty sand color on their cuts. The Sidewinders were about to get their head lopped off. Louis fucked with the wrong man. The beady-eyed bastard was a lot like the snake his crew was named for. With his greasy black hair, nervous countenance and questionable reputation, the man inspired no trust. Demon hadn’t wanted to cut a deal with him in the first place, but after Natasha, he’d been a fucking mess. That was no time to go to war.
He clenched his jaw and the muscles there ticked. I’m all better now and I’ll sure as fuck have my revenge. Nothing short of watching the light go out behind Louis’s eyes would soothe the burning going on inside his chest. Finishing his shower swiftly, he dressed and headed out into the living room.
Rambler sat up straighter on the couch. “Prez?”
“Guard them with your life. They so much as get a paper cut and I’m taking that shit out of your hide, you understand me?” He stared at Rambler.
“Yes, Pres.” Rambler swallowed. Fear colored his eyes. A heightened sense of awareness would help him stay sharp.
“Good, you two handle this shit properly and there might be a cut in it for you.” Demon turned away and walked out the newly installed door, locking the two dead bolts behind him. Everything had been stepped up. Mounting his bike gave him no pleasure. Instead, he felt like a warrior on his steed, moving into battle. This shit was going to get ugly before it got better. The Sidewinders had no code of honor and if they felt brave enough to go for blood, they must be packing. Their crew wasn’t very big, so they did have help, caught a case of idiocy, or had this planned down to the letter. Either way, the shit needed to be squashed before the bodies started to pile up.