 by Jeanne St. James.jpg)
Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Shane Fletcher loves his job as a state trooper. Even more so when he gets to work undercover.
When the DEA creates a task force to stop the trafficking of meth into Pennsylvania by the Deadly Demons, an outlaw MC, Fletch jumps on the chance to be involved.
The Tri-State Federal Drug Task Force is not only made up of some of his own Blue Avengers MC brotherhood, but with law enforcement from other agencies.
Including Nova Wilder, a special agent with the FBI. A kick-ass, no-nonsense woman whose specialty is fighting organized crime.
When Fletch and Nova go undercover with the Dirty Angels MC, they’re forced to work as partners, share an apartment and pretend they’re a couple.
Only, living in close proximity and acting like a biker and his ol’ lady ends up being the easy part. What proves to be the most difficult is trying to resist each other for the sake of not screwing up the assignment.
As it turns out, the Demons aren’t the only problem they have to deal with. Unbeknownst to them, a much more powerful threat is lurking and ready to strike.
Note: It’s highly recommended to read this six-book action/adventure MC series in order due to the continuing story arcs (subplots). However, each book focuses on a different couple who gets their HEA. It has no cheating and no relationship cliffhanger.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
“This is all we can get after doing all those damn fundraisers?” Shane Fletcher, vice president of the Blue Avengers MC, squinted up at the three-story red brick building.
From the looks of it, the windows on every floor had been boarded up years ago. Graffiti decorated the rotting plywood, the brick, the front entrance, and even the sidewalk out front. Weeds sprouted out of every crack in the concrete walkway, too.
The place was a depressing dump. The industrial area surrounding the building didn’t look much better.
“What the hell did you expect? A damn castle?” Axel Jamison asked sharply.
“Not this. It’s a pile of fucking dog shit!” Fletch bitched, because what they stood in front of was worth complaining about. It looked like more of a headache than a potential new home for their law enforcement MC.
“Dog shit that will polish up into a shiny piece of dog shit,” Rez grumbled.
“Look, assholes. What’s important is it has good bones.” Jamison opened up his hands, extended them out in front of him and swept them across the building’s façade in an imagine this motion. “Think of it as a blank canvas. We can create whatever we want out of this. We can make it our own.”
Fletch shook his head. “Jesus Christ. We could do the town a service and burn it to the fucking ground.”
Beside him, Crew barked out a sharp laugh. “Agreed. Then when the firefighters show up we can play a prank on those fuckers. At least that would make this place worthwhile.”
“Yeah, just like they like to screw with us,” Nox grumbled. “Payback’s a fucking bitch.”
“When I arrived on scene at a brush fire the other day, they had a donut dangling from a hook on a fishing rod.” Aiden Cross shook his head.
“Did you bite?” Fletch asked him.
The ongoing, good-natured “rivalry” between his brothers in blue and the hose jockeys had existed as long as he could remember. And he’d been a state trooper ever since turning twenty-one fourteen years ago.
The old joke was, men who couldn’t become cops became firefighters.
Cross answered with a shrug, “Of course I did. It was a glazed cruller. Even better, it was fresh.”
“Bet it wasn’t as good as those filled cupcakes Jamison’s ol’ lady makes,” said Mike Miller, the club treasurer and a sergeant with the Pittsburgh PD.
“Fuck yeah. Did you bring any of those, Jamison?”
Ignoring Finn’s question, the current president of the BAMC sighed. “Can we get back to business and not talk about my wife’s cupcakes?”
Owen Decker leaned into Fletch. “He likes to lick her filling.”
With a twisted grin, Jamison said, “I won’t argue that.”
Decker clapped his hands together. “All right. Rule number one if we buy this shit-hole… We need a constant supply of baked goods from Sophie’s Sweet Treats. Make it happen, Jamison.”
“I’ll try.”
“There is no try, only do,” Decker announced.
“If you’re going to quote Yoda, at least get it right,” Miller complained.
“He doesn’t give a fuck about Yoda, only filled cupcakes,” Antonio Alvarez, Rez for short, told Miller.
Decker shrugged with a grin.
“We might have to put that in the bylaws,” Cross suggested. “Because I agree, their shit can’t be beat.”
“I’ll bring it up at our next meeting for a vote,” Decker said next.
“No, you won’t. And we’re not here to talk about stuffing your fucking faces. We’re here to see if this place will work for our club’s church.” Jamison tried to get the group back on track.