Down & Dirty: Zak
(Dirty Angels MC, Book 1)
By Jeanne St. James
Genre: Steamy Contemporary
Romance, MC Romance
Kindle: http://amzn.to/2uIGwVy
Available
for FREE on Kindle Unlimited
Paperback:
http://amzn.to/2fTe7IZ
Blurb:
Welcome to Shadow Valley where the
Dirty Angels MC rule. Get ready to get Down & Dirty because this
is Zak’s story…
After spending the
last ten years in prison, Zak, former DAMC president, has a few
priorities: to reconnect with his “brothers,” to get drunk, and
to get laid. Not necessarily in that order. When he spots a stunning
woman in the clubhouse and mistakes her for one of the club’s
strippers, those priorities get a bit skewed.
Sophie has no
idea what happened to her life. One minute she’s totally focused on
building her bakery business, and the next? She’s delivering a cake
to the Dirty Angels motorcycle club’s “homecoming” celebration
for a member who just got out of prison. Little does she know baking
that cake will change the rest of her life, not to mention, make her
a target for a rival MC. Normally, Sophie wouldn’t be caught dead
with a man like Zak, a tattooed, ex-con, badass biker.
When a decades old
territory war threatens to rip them apart, Zak will do anything to
keep Sophie, his club, and the town safe. But being from two
different worlds, the threat they’re under may not be worth the
risk.
Excerpt:
Sophie had no idea
what happened to her life. One minute she’s totally focused on
building her bakery business, and the next?
She closed her eyes
and groaned. Somehow the next, she’s being pulled through a crowd
of rowdy bikers and their “bitches” in the cold night air,
heading toward a roaring bonfire that appeared to be made up of a
mountain of wood pallets. The flames licked halfway to heaven.
As Zak strode
forward, Sophie leaned back trying to slow him down a bit. She was
wearing her very favorite suede knee-high boots. The brown ones that
had a really nice heel on them that made her legs look longer. And
slimmer. Because that was important, too. However, the heel didn’t
make it easy to walk in the dark over stones, dead grass and rough
patches of dirt.
She had a feeling
she would end up on her ass. She should have worn sneakers instead.
Especially since
she wasn’t trying to impress anyone here.
She didn’t even
want to be here in the first place.
How the hell did
she even end up here tonight?
The man currently
hauling her around left pissed off last night and she had no clue why
he even insisted on pursuing her... pursuing this. Whatever the hell
this was.
The worst part was
she had shut down the bakery early, locked the door, turned off all
the lights, and went upstairs to hide just in case he did show
up at eight. Like he had threatened.
And when
eight-oh-five came around and he hadn’t shown up, she had breathed
a sigh of relief. But then, she should have realized that bikers
probably weren’t prompt or watched the time. Life apparently
revolved around them, not the clock.
Nope, fuck everyone
else.
So, she left the
lights off in her apartment, too, and wearing a pair of yoga pants
and an old, soft sweatshirt, she sank onto her couch to catch up on
some TV.
Well, that was
until there was a man in black standing before her, hands on his
hips.
And if that didn’t
make her scream and her heart beat a million miles a minute, nothing
would.
She had no idea how
he got in or why she didn’t hear him. Maybe he was right about the
shop needing better security.
She needed it just
to keep him out.
But as he stood
over her, her stomach dropped—once it stopped spinning. Holy
Hannah, even in the glow of the TV he looked good with his badass
clothes, his badass tats, and his badass bod.
He jerked his
stubbled chin in her direction. “That what you’re wearing?”
“How did you get
in here?”
“Told you I’d
be here at eight.”
She raised her
eyebrows in disbelief. “I locked the door.”
“I know. Diesel
will be makin’ your place more secure.”
He knew someone
named after fuel. Okay, then.
“Question was:
That what you’re wearin’?”
She looked down at
her clothes, then back up at him. He was judging her
clothing choices? “Uh, no. I’m not going.”
He blinked slowly
as if trying to keep his patience. “Babe.”
Maybe he should be
more worried about her patience. “My name is Sophie.”
“Know what your
name is.”
“Babe is a pig in
a movie.”
She swore she heard
him snort. Though, it sounded much sexier than a pig.
About the Author:
JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today
bestselling erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or two).
She was only thirteen when she started writing and her first paid
published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine.
Her first erotic romance novel, Banged
Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French
bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages. Want to read a
sample of her work? Download a sampler book here: BookHip.com/MTQQKK
Author Links:
Website: http://www.jeannestjames.com
Instagram:
https://www.instagram.com/jeannestjames/
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/JeanneStJames
Newsletter:
http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup
Review & Book Crew:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/JeannesReviewCrew/
Thanks for sharing your story with us,
Tina
