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Preacher Man (Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga #2)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

V. Theia

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B071G49VVL
Book Information:

Preacher could be called many things;
Son, brother, friend, road captain, veteran, and
charming Manwhore.

He owned his title until he wanted a particular feisty woman
to take him seriously,
and then all bets were off, he’d play dirty to win her.

Having seen the Lothario outlaw in action,
Ruby wasn’t encouraged to act
on the attraction to his alpha-good looks.
With selfish family draining her financially,
Ruby’s life was tumultuous at best,
with no room for the kind of pleasure
she knew she’d get from Preacher.
But asking God for help,
did it really come from the dirty-mouthed biker?

No bad men, no troublemakers,
and absolutely no bikers.
This was Ruby’s rule.
But one perfect night, no strings attached, with Preacher?

He fought for his country and lost his heart.
Preacher came back from war a changed man,
recognizing the same loneliness in Ruby.
Drawn to her, to her dark fantasies, he wants it all, at any cost.

Sometimes all it takes is love to begin to heal because Fate has a way of intervening where headstrong soulmates are concerned.

Disclaimer: Intended for 18+ due to the extreme sexy times between two consenting crazy in lust adults.

Books in Series:

Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga Series by V. Theia

Books by Author:

V. Theia Books

Some chapters missing due to memory limits.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“So, what? … no making friendship bracelets for each other?” – Preacher

Six Months Ago

It wasn’t as though Preacher presumed to be welcomed with open arms from Red Light on arrival into Nebraska late that night. The nomad was stationed in Kansas but was headed to Lincoln the same as Preacher to sort out some of their financial woes. So, a welcome wasn’t exactly expected, maybe a tough-guy head nod, a chin jut. But the death glare was damn well unjustified.

He hadn’t stepped off his bike nor turned the engine off after pulling into the garage port when he was hit in the face with the blue eyed stare of…well, he supposed enemy, not that Preacher held any bad feelings, in fact, he understood precisely why Red Light hated his guts once upon a time, but now? Years later? And still this? For fuck’s sake.

He fortified his chest with fresh air stained with the scent of motor oil. His back was killing him having ridden most of the three hundred eighty-five miles, only stopping once for a four-hour nap in a grimy roadside motel, so he really was on a short fuse for it to be Red Light as his welcoming committee.

It was one of those typical November cold winter nights, the kind that froze balls and his eyelashes crusted over with frost, he wanted a bourbon and a warm bed more than he wanted anything. Good idea to ride, dickhead. Planes exist, you know. But a drink and a bed were not in his immediate future. Instead, he was about to have himself a confrontation earlier than anticipated.

Stabilizing his lungs, Preacher got a lay of the situation real damn fast. Far as he was aware Red Light hadn’t meant to be arriving in Nebraska until later that week. The later the better for Preacher as he’d hoped once he’d known the fellow RS member was coming to town, too, he couldn’t foresee anything changing between them and he was here to do a job and get the hell out of dodge. He’d told Rider he was down for any out of town trip, fresh pussy was always fun, but damn if his body wasn’t already tired and not up for a bar hunt. Maybe tomorrow.


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