Down & Dirty: Hawk
Dirty Angels MC, Book 3
By Jeanne St. James
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Blurb:
Welcome to Shadow Valley
where the Dirty Angels MC rules. Get ready to get Down & Dirty because this
is Hawk’s story...
When
strong statements must be made, Hawk, as the MC’s VP, must be the one to make
them. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences, like him landing in
jail. Though the club keeps an attorney on retainer, the one who shows up isn’t
quite who he’s expecting. Not even close.
Feisty,
classy, and curvy, this attorney pushes his buttons in all the right ways. And Hawk
can’t ignore a challenge. However, she’s so out of his league, he can’t hope
for anything more than a few chances to scratch all her itches.
When
Kiki’s boss hands over the club’s account, she doesn’t know what to expect and her
meeting with the overbearing, bad boy biker goes anything but smoothly. Like
Hawk, Kiki loves a challenge, too. But getting involved in the club and its VP
may not be what she bargained for. Especially when it comes to several run-ins
with a rival MC, including one which may very well affect the rest of her life.
Kiki
needs to decide if becoming involved with Hawk is worth not only the judgment
from her peers but, even worse, the violent mayhem the club becomes entangled
in.
Trigger warning: This story includes a
violent situation that includes kidnapping, physical and sexual assault. Note:
This book can be read as a standalone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, biker
slang, cursing, some violence and, of course, an HEA. If you like alpha males
who take charge, this book is for you.
Excerpt:
Kiki
sat behind the table about to not only face an unhappy judge but she was being
seared by the heat of the large biker sitting next to her, who just stared at
her.
Well,
she did tell him not to stare at the judge. So, it was all her fault.
She
really should rethink her career. She should switch to real estate law like her
ex. Elder law, family law. Something, anything
other than defending a badass biker and his “brothers.”
She
bit back a groan. If she knew this was where she would end up, she certainly
wouldn’t have joined Pannebaker’s firm. Even though it was one of the best
criminal defense firms in the area.
She
should be wondering how a motorcycle club consisting of a bunch of derelicts
could afford Pannebaker’s hourly rate. Though, they had no problem paying for
the damage done to that pub in South Side. The club’s treasurer, Ace, simply
scribbled out a check for six figures.
He didn’t even tell the owners to hold it before cashing. No. He said it
was good and could be deposited right away.
Imagine
that. But all that money could come from illegal activities. Though, Pannebaker
assured her she wouldn’t be representing an outlaw club, that they were on the
up and up.
Kiki
let out a snort. Right.
“You
okay?” came the deep voice next to her.
She
refused to turn her head toward him when he was this close. His heavy
denim-clad thigh brushed against her stockings. No suit for this guy’s
courtroom appearance. No. He insisted on wearing his whole biker get-up sans
the vest with filthy patches she insisted he not wear.
She
cleared her throat. “Perfect. Remember to keep your mouth shut and at least
appear sorry for your actions,” she whispered.
“Not
sorry.”
She
ground her molars and then unlocked her jaw. “Act like it.”
Fingers
brushed along her knee and then the skin at the edge of her skirt. She sucked
in a sharp breath.
“Get
outta here today an’ then we’ll have our appointment later.”
Oh
good lord. He actually took her serious when she made that so-called
appointment. She had to clear that misconception up and do it quickly.
“I
was only kidding about the appointment,” she whispered fiercely. She gritted
her teeth against the shiver that wanted to run through her as his fingers
climbed her thigh.
She
should be very afraid of this man and not for the obvious reasons.
“I
wasn’t,” he said way too softly.
Apparently.
Before
she could smack his hand away, the District Justice entered the room and they
all stood, including the hunk of tattooed muscle next to her, who was suddenly
stuck to her side. Like Gorilla glue.
Kiki
swallowed hard and her nipples pebbled under her blouse. Great. That wouldn’t
be too obvious.
“Ms.
Clark,” Judge Powers greeted her.
She
shifted an inch to the right to give herself some breathing room. “Your Honor.”
He
sat and so did everyone else. Well, everyone except for Hawk.
“Sit
down,” she demanded under her breath, tugging at his faded Myrtle Beach Biker
Week T-shirt.
With
a smile, he sat, his body visibly shaking in silent laughter.
“So,
what do we have here, Ms. Clark? A,” the judge glanced down at his papers,
“member of a motorcycle gang who decided to come into my district and make a
mess.”
“Club,
Your Honor.”
Judge
Powers looked up. “What was that, Ms. Clark?”
“It’s
a club, Your Honor, not a gang. They’re not engaged in any illegal activities.”
Holy crap, she hoped that was true.
“A club,” he repeated like he was
taste-testing the word. “You mean a club like the Boy Scouts?”
“Very
similar, sir.”
The
judge let out a bark of a laugh then his eyes swung to her client, then back to
Hawk’s father, Ace, and his brother, Diesel, who sat in the seats directly
behind them.
“What
badge do they get for beating up a member of another club?”
“Your Honor, Mr. Dougherty has seen the error of—”
Powers
raised his hand, palm out toward her. “Save it, Ms. Clark. I wasn’t born
yesterday.”
“But—”
Powers
interrupted her again. “Here’s the deal, Ms. Clark. You want to defend such
upstanding gentleman? That’s fine. But maybe you should be responsible for
them. Or at least,” he wagged a finger at Hawk, “this one.”
Oh
shit. “Your Honor...”
“No,
Ms. Clark. You can be his babysitter for the next three months.”
Oh
shit. “Your Honor, please!”
“Want
me to make it six?”
Oh
shit. Kiki sucked in a breath. “No, Your Honor.”
And
not just no. Hell no! She did not want to get stuck being responsible for a
damn biker. Pannebaker couldn’t pay her enough.
For
crissakes, she’d quit.
Walk
right out.
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. 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
To keep up with her busy release schedule check her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup
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