Sunday, May 22, 2016

Excerpt Reveal for Haunt By JC Emery


Kings rule men. Queens rule kings.
Wyatt Strand is a hard man. He has hard features, speaks with harsh words, and has a hardened heart. Having served the Forsaken Motorcycle Club as Vice President, Wyatt is used to taking responsibility for his brothers, but when he’s handed the gavel everything changes. His brothers are now his men and the threat from the Italian mafia still looms in the distance. A president needs focus, but that’s nearly impossible when his old lady blows back into town and drops two very large bombshells on him.
Amber Wallace is a tough woman, but an even fiercer mother. She once told a lie to protect her unborn child that tore her away from the man she loves. And now, years later, she’s coming home to make amends. Wyatt’s changed, but the club hasn’t. Women are to be obedient. Unfortunately for Forsaken, Amber’s not about to let a few rules stop her from living the life she always imagined.
The Forsaken Motorcycle Club started a war with the Italian mafia and they’ve paid dearly for that choice. With a new president at the helm, the wheels are finally in motion to take down Mancuso once and for all. Even if it means taking the fight back to where it began.
Love is never more beautiful than when it consumes you.

“Ran out on me,” he says. His voice makes it sound like he’s thirsty, so gravely and rough. “Last time you ran out on me you were eight months pregnant with our fuckin’ son. Don’t like seeing you leave me.”
“We need to talk,” I say quickly before he can reach me.
“You need to quit fucking leaving me.”
“Quit giving me reason to!” That’s not totally fair. It’s not exactly his fault that the Italian guys showed up when they did. It’s not one hundred percent his fault that Rig targeted Zander. But it doesn’t exactly matter, either. Ever since Rig, I’ve been on edge and my moods are fluctuating like crazy. I don’t like these feelings. Adding Wyatt to the mix turns my crazy into straight-up insanity.
Wyatt storms toward me, grabs me around the waist and pulls me against him. He tips my face up towards his. And all his gentle turns into something else entirely in the blink of an eye.
“Knock it the fuck off!” He screams in my face, so loud, but I barely hear the words.
The ball in my throat hardens and I’m forced to swallow it. My hands shake with an anger that I don’t expect. I don’t know why I’m so mad right now, but I am. Nervous, sure. Anxious, yeah. But mad? That one confuses me. I don’t dwell on it though, because the frustration becomes too much to swallow. I push him off me, angry and annoyed. I suck in an unsteady breath as we stare each other down. He huffs. My eyes fall to his lips and they stay there. It’s magnetic—the pull his lips have over me. Every time I look at them, I’m either desperate to touch them or I remember every vile word that he’s ever said to me. If I’m being honest with myself, even then, in those moments of remembrance, I still want them on me. Nothing ever changes that. I hate admitting that, even to myself, though.
I pull my gaze from his lips to find his eyes are on my mouth now. His tongue pokes out, drags over his rough lips. I could fall into this. I could let this happen so easily, but then we’ll end up right back where we started.
“You can’t kiss me. You’re going to hate me soon, so please don’t kiss me.”
You told our son that we’re sleeping in the same bed,” I say accusingly.
“We are.” His voice is low, his breath heating my skin. I breathe him in only to wish I hadn’t. He smells like burgers and root beer—because that’s what he had with dinner, a freaking root beer—but underneath all of that is his spicy scent that can’t be from a soap or shampoo. It’s just Wyatt. I’ve missed it so much that at times it felt like I was suffocating without it. Like, if I couldn’t remember how he smells I’d just waste away to nothing right then and there. It never happened. God was never that generous, but it felt real enough that it could be a serious possibility at the time.
Wyatt slides his hand down from my jaw to my chest, laying his palm flat against my heart. His eyes fall closed and I swear, I think I’m watching him listen to my heartbeat. It’s crazy fast now with the way he’s touching me. His calloused fingers press so gently but determinedly against my bare skin. The scoop neck I’m wearing used to have a higher neckline before my kid make it her personal mission to work out by yanking on my clothes all the time. Now though, I’m grateful for Piper’s annoying yanking on clothes because I can’t imagine having his hand over a thin layer of cotton.
“I love you, you stupid woman,” Wyatt says softly. His eyes are still closed, prompting mine to shutter closed as well. I breathe him in and keep quiet. I shouldn’t give in to this, but I’m a selfish creature. I want my man back if even for a night. Wyatt presses his lips softly against mine. I move into him, but still he doesn’t remove his hand from my heart. Our kiss is soft and full of promise and hope and it absolutely slays me.
Hope is the death of all things.
“If you were done with me, with us, I’d know. Your heart wouldn’t be beating this hard. But it is. I’m a part of you, even if you don’t want me to be. So yeah, we sleep in the same bed.”
About the author:
As a child, JC was fascinated by things that went bump in the night. As they say, some things never change. Now, as an adult, she divides her time between the sexy law men, mythical creatures, and kick-ass heroines that live inside her head and pursuing her bachelor's degree in English. JC is a San Francisco Bay Area native, but has also called both Texas and Louisiana home. These days she rocks her flip flops year round in Northern California and can't imagine a climate more beautiful.

JC writes adult, new adult, and young adult fiction. She dabbles in many different genres including science fiction, horror, chick lit, and murder mysteries, yet she is most enthralled by supernatural stories-- and everything has at least a splash of romance.
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