"In this slow burn romantic suspense, she has pieced together one hell of a ride that kept my interest right through from beginning to end. The plot slotted together like an intricate jigsaw that gave away snippets of information until a larger picture was formed and even then, not all was revealed." Marnie, Goodreads
I'd heard about Jimmy the Fist.
I'd heard he was a single dad, a bar owner, and that he was tied to a dangerous motorcycle gang.
He's someone I'd stay away from in another life.
In this life, I was desperate for a job—preferably as a tax accountant—but scraping the bottom of my savings had stripped my preferences bare. I was desperate for something, anything that would help my mom.
Turns out he was desperate for something too—freedom—and when our worlds collide I realize too late that his demons didn't care how or with whom they collected their debt.
**This is a standalone romance/ suspense novel.**
“My dad's actions are his own, and we haven't kept in touch since he left. It's not the same thing, but I do need some space to get sorted. I need time. I'm asking for a sabbatical from club business, from meetings, from all of it. Just for a while,” I lied through my fucking teeth.
Niles chose that moment to bring more beers for everyone.
Davis took a long swig of the cold beer before setting it down across from my empty bottle. Then he drew in a silent, deep breath and relaxed his shoulders into the chair.
After he waited for what felt like forever, he finally gritted out, “You burn me, and I’ll kill you.”
He sat forward and pointed his finger at me. “I won't hesitate, and if your dad ever sets foot in my city again, I’ll kill him as well. For the time being, I will let you have your sabbatical.
Take some time, figure out your shit.”
I nodded my head in acknowledgment. “Understood.”
Relief rushed through me. I stood from the table, not wanting to risk him changing his mind. It wouldn’t do me any good to say thank you to Davis, since he considered gratitude a form of weakness. Before I made it to the door, Davis yelled over his shoulder at me.
“But, Jimmy Boy, remember that we ain’t done. Not by a long shot.”
I gave him a quick nod and left the bar. I knew I wasn’t done, but for the time being, I was free.
About the author:
Ashley lives in Oregon with her four children and Mr. Fix-It husband.
If she's not helping her husband with DIY projects around the house, she's writing or sneaking off to a corner to read. She loves hearing from her fans. You can find her in her reader group or on Instagram, where she practically lives.
a Rafflecopter giveaway