Escaping near-death just to fall for a motorcycle riding bad boy?
Is this really my life?
When I stepped foot back in my hometown
I never imagined that in less than 24 hours I’d be running for my life.
I’ve got a boatload of money headed my way,
and a seriously gigantic target on my back.
Running was all I could think to do.
The only problem is that I just ran right into the arms
of an absolutely soul-shakingly gorgeous man who
is most likely an even bigger nightmare than the one I left behind.
Leader of a motorcycle gang.
One giant brooding a**hole.
And so cocky and infuriating I just want to scream.
Why is it that my problems always seem to go from bad to worse?
I didn’t run this far just to get tangled up in another version of the dangerous world I escaped from.
And I certainly didn’t expect to uncover answers to the question I’ve carried with me for a lifetime.
But in the process of escaping my present,
I may have just stumbled into my future.
There’s no going back now.
Targeted Age Group:: 18+
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I wrote this book because I was excited to share the love story about an unlikely pairing (a motorcycle club bad boy who has never even considered being in a serious relationship and wealthy good girl from out of state). Riding My Hero is Book 1 in a 4 book series and each book will explore the journey to love for the bad boys of Savage Souls MC.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
I think the men in my life have always inspired the male lead characters that I create. Every girl loves the idea of a bad boy, but bad boys can often be impossible to lock down. The male lead in Riding My Hero has a soft spot for one girl and one girl only, and creating that girl was so fun. She had to have depth, she had to be different than any other woman he had every experienced, she had to be able to unlock his heart.
“You okay?” He asks. “I mean, the cut?”
I totter a little with the bandage wrapped around my foot. “You’re a very good medic.”
“Yeah, I’ve got plenty of practice. This,” he points to a jagged scar on his upper left arm. “This was my first stitch-up job. Hurt like fucking hell.”
“Wait,” I freeze in shock. “You stitched yourself up?”
He shrugs. “I wasn’t in a position to get professional help at the moment.”
“Oh, right,” I nod like I deal with people tough enough to sew up their own skin all the time.
He laughs. “Try not to look so shocked all the time, Princess.”
I chuckle. “I guess I’m pretty obviously out of my element here, right? What I need is some camouflage, like a Harley and a few tattoos or scars. Wait, I do have this scar!”
I point to a small scar under my chin.
“Tommy Hooper pushed me off the monkey bars in 2nd grade and I needed three stitches. My mother actually wanted me to get plastic surgery to have it removed. Isn’t that ridiculous? But now it’s useful,” I lift up my chin. “Better to blend in. Do I seem tougher now?”
He cups my chin in his hand and leans in to examine the almost imperceptible scar.
“Yeah, you seem like a total badass with this thing,” he says. His hand lingers on my chin and our eyes lock as he slowly traces the line of the scar. Then he lets his hand trail to my cheek. His touch sends shivers of warmth down to my thighs.
“I don’t think you could ever blend in around here, Princess,” he says, his voice low and sexy as hell.
I am suddenly lost, and I really don’t know what overtakes me except that this man is like pure fire. I lift myself up on my tiptoes and kiss him. The kiss is gentle, shy even, and I immediately regret it, mostly because he doesn’t seem to react at all.
I pull back just a little, lowering down from my tip-toed stance, but he reaches his arms around me and lifts me up. This time his mouth meets mine in urgency and desire. His tongue easily parts my lips and his kiss grows deeper and more forceful by the second.
For a moment I regret what I’ve started. I feel so overwhelmed with the amount of desire I feel in response to his kiss. He seems almost angry that he’s giving in to me, that his mouth is crushing mine, that like me he can’t seem to stop.
I groan into his mouth as he roughly moves his hands through my hair and only then does he force himself to pull away from me.
“Enough,” he says. He looks me over and for a moment I think he actually looks almost gentle. My jaw nearly drops when he says, “you should be more careful, Harper.”
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