When a barely-legal blonde with a lithe, young body shows up at the Devil’s Outlaw MC strip joint to audition as a dancer, Ian “Bowie” Davies wants nothing more than to burrow between her long legs and claim her. She’s too young for his dominant side though, too innocent for the sharp edges of his darker desires. And way too hot to let another man touch her — a thought that has his hands itching to use his signature knives against any bastard who messes with his angel.
Hannah Harris ran away from home at age eighteen, desperate to escape the prison of her strict parents. Determined to delight in the sins her father preaches against, she puts her ballet talents to work, using a stripper pole to make a living. Dancing for Bowie and his blade has her panting to explore some of the “firsts” she planned to save for her future husband.
But when Bowie and his brothers attempt extortion beyond her parent’s ten thousand dollar reward for Hannah’s safe return, she’s left with a difficult choice. Offer up the evidence to put the notorious biker gang behind bars, or protect Bowie and chalk the shitshow up as a lesson learned and begin her independent life anew — without the lying bastard who owns her heart.
Can Bowie cut through the blindfold of lies on Hannah’s eyes and surrender the truth in his heart to win her back?
Praise for Bowie’s Angel (Devil’s Outlaws MC 1)
“This is the first book in a great new MC series. The characters are well developed and have great chemistry. The storyline is a good one and flows well.”
— 5 Stars from Heather W., Amazon Review
“Oh my God. This was one hooooottt book. It was my first read from this author but I will definitely read more if this will continue.”
— 5 Stars from Maja, Amazon Review
“This book hooked me from the get go I just couldn’t put it down I fell in love with these characters and omg what a story just a perfect read.”
— 5 Stars from Jeanne, Amazon Review
EXCERPT
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2019 Lynn Burke
I sauntered through the doors of the Devil’s Strip Club like I owned the place even though my knees shook. Barely eighteen in a twenty-one and up only biker’s lounge, I had a mission and I wouldn’t be turned away.
Owned by the notorious Devil’s Outlaws, the “no-colors” club had been packed night after night from what I could tell from my tiny, third-floor apartment two blocks down the street. My new roommate, Cadence, danced in a nicer place closer to D.C., and had said the money was great when I told her I needed a job. Without a car, though, Devil’s convenience couldn’t be beat.
Muffled music thumped in the enclosed entryway, slipping through the tightly closed double doors ahead of me. The bearded, tattooed man on a stool beside them took his time checking me out from the tips of my black stiletto boots, up over bare thighs to the tiny leather skirt that hid the goods. A peek of my belly button and toned skin of my midriff gave way to a red halter top that showed off what little cleavage I had, my long, blonde hair waving over the small swells. The man’s focus snagged on my plump lips that shimmered with pale gloss, but eventually, he shifted his attention to my eyes, made up with makeup to make me appear older than the innocent soul I was.
“Hey,” I said, popping one hip out and smacking my lips together, while noting his shoulders, easily three times the width of mine, packed a mass of muscle beneath his black, button-down shirt. “I’m here to see Bowie.”
The man’s blue-eyed gaze slid back down over me. “He call you in?”
A broke-as-hell runaway desperate to make it on my own, I wasn’t above lying to get what I wanted, but the man stared at me as though he could read right through me. Partial lie, then.
“No.” I fought to keep my jitters contained. “But I heard he’s looking for some new skin onstage.” I slowly turned around to give him another look, arms held out at my sides, hoping like hell Cadence’s borrowed outfit would do the trick. I had to get caught up with rent, help with groceries, and I had a mile-long bucket list to tackle. Skydiving and learning to fly a plane didn’t come cheap.
Ever since I was a toddler, I’d always loved having eyes on me while dancing ballet. Now that I’d found independence, I wanted that feeling of owning the world rushing through me. What better way than to dance for much needed cash?
“Think I’ll do?” I lowered my voice, adding a breathless tone like the girls in some of the porno I’d finally gotten to fill my brain with — thanks to Cadence.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of hot romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
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