In the highly anticipated continuation of Harley and Deklan’s story comes an equally gripping novel.

Blurp:

What happens when you wake up from the nightmare that you’ve been living? Do you start living a happy normal life, one that you’ve always dreamed of, or do you start a new nightmare?
Harley did it. She survived, thanks to Deklan, but now…she is left with hard truths and different emotions; what she thought was the end, was only the beginning. Harley has to navigate through these changes while deciding on who she is and where she fits in Deklan’s life because she is coming to learn that when someone saves you, even from yourself, you hero worship them. You hero worship them so much they become your everything. Their wants turn into your needs, their needs into your obsessions, their obsessions into your life. Finally you come to a point where this worshiping, this obsession, will either heal you or hurt you.
Will Harley be healed from her past or hurt by it?

Excerpt:

Excerpt:( Mature audience)

“Don’t do that shit.” I warned. “Don’t twist this. My brother’s on the couch and I don’t want him to hear you scream my name when I lick you here.” I cupped her sex, massaging her still wet opening making her grind her ass on my erection. “Or when I fuck you here.” I rubbed the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip, pulling it down slightly.  I doubt she knew how insane she was making me, how her not knowing how sexy she was made her even sexier. I was well aware of her aversion to letting me fuck her mouth, I asked once and she shut that shit down quick, don’t mean I wasn’t gonna try every time I got.

“No one gets to hear that shit but me.” Yup, I was very fucking aware of how I was sounding like a possessive dick but I didn’t give a shit. I wanted to ruin her for everyone else, so that she would only ever be able to fit here, with me.

“Matt?” She asked wide eyed, either from the promise of my words, or from shock.

“Do I have another brother?” I cupped the back of her neck bringing her to me and nipped her lower lip unable to not fucking touch her and still aware I was being a dickhead, but I was hyped up and it wasn’t helping the matter that she was still grinding her ass on me moaning slightly and shit. It was like me being an asshole got her wetter. Fuck.

“Har…” I started, placing my hand on her hip to still her movements.

“Deklan, please.” She moaned, placing her hand on the one I had between her legs, pushing it down hard on her clit. I couldn’t fuck her, not like I really wanted to, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t give her what I knew she needed.

I removed my hand, gripped her panties and quickly ripped them off, grabbed her hips and pushed her down slightly so that the lips of her pussy sandwiched my dick over my boxers and began moving her over it. She bucked against my hand as I massaged her clit with my thumb, teasing her as my dick swelled with the friction. She was so fucking soaked it plastered my boxers to my dick, the friction causing the head to slip through the slit. She moaned louder at the small contact her pussy had with my dick, moving faster. My dick jumped when it hit her hot opening, and I fought like hell to not slip all the way in.

“Babe.” I warned. I was true as shit, no one got to hear her come apart but me but her trying to be quite almost made me say fuck it. I loved the fact that she couldn’t be quite, like she had to scream how good it was. How good we were together. That was a fucking ego buster if there ever was one.

“I can’t help it.” She said on a breath as I rubbed her clit harder. Her on top of me, jacking off my dick with her pussy was the best fucking sight I ever saw. She arched her back, placing her hands on my chest, rubbing faster and faster, wiggling when our sexes met, trying to get more of me inside her. I was so hard it was painful, my balls drew up tight and I knew I was close to exploding. Her face contorted in bliss and her body suddenly went still, “oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” She whisper chanted, her come soaking me and I took that opportunity to dip the head of my dick in her heat and pushed her further over the edge, and I was right fucking behind her. I pulled out with minutes to spare and watched with her as I blasted on my stomach. Shiiiiiiiit, I wanted more of her, I wanted to own her and if I didn’t get my shit together soon so that I could, I was going to go fucking crazy.

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About the Author:

Jeri Williams lives a super fabulous lifestyle (by fabulous, she mean’s kinda lame) in the hot Florida sun and loves reading of any kind (except instruction manuals and cereal boxes). She has always written stories and made her family listen to them since she was young, although this is her first book she has ever published. She is a mom of an up-and-coming Jerry Seinfeld (in girl form) and also enjoys being right and knowing everything, although she is hardly ever right and really doesn’t know anything and is obsessed with inventing miniature zoo animals you can carry around in your pocket (although not really).

Genre: Romance

Goodreads 

Synopsis 

Blurb

Maverick “the Avenger” Cage wants to rise to the top and become a legend in the ring. Though he keeps his identity well guarded, he’s known on the fighting circuit as the new kid with a chip on his shoulder and a tattoo on his back that marks him as trouble. He’s got a personal score to settle with the Underground’s one and only Remington “Riptide” Tate.

As Mav trains, he meets a young girl—the only other new person in the town–and sparks fly. When things get heated between them, he finds out she’s none other than Reese Dumas, the cousin of Remington Tate’s wife. A girl who’s supposed to root against him and a girl he’s supposed to stay away from.

But Maverick fights for the woman in his heart, and the monsters in his blood. The world’s eyes are on them and the victor will go down in history as the ultimate fighting champion; the ultimate LEGEND.

* LEGEND is the 6th and final installment of the REAL series, but it can also be read as standalone or after the three Remington and Brooke books (Real/Mine/Remy.)

Excerpt

SEATTLE

Maverick

‘Not in a million years, kid.’

‘No.’

‘NOT INTERESTED.’

‘Get the fuck out of my face!’

Four cities in two days, and more doors slammed in my face than I can count. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and scratch another name from my list.

Hopping on to a bus and hopping off thirty minutes later, I scan the mix of both commercial and apartment numbers down the block, then knock on my last door.

“Coach Hennesy?”

He’s a tall man, his hair like pepper, clad in sweats, with a yellow timer hanging from his neck. He gives me a questioning look.

“I’m your next champion.”

He laughs, but then he must see something on my face. In my stance. Thirst, resoluteness, guts. Maybe I’m wearing my balls in my eyes. He falls sober and swings the door wide-open. “Come on in.”

He doesn’t ask for my name.

I guess with one look, he knows he’ll find my name in the dictionary, right next to “determined.”

He leads me to his garage. “Where’d you train before?” he asks.

“Self-taught. I watch videos.”

He scoffs, then shrugs. “Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.”

I eye the equipment across the room. The heavy bag hangs from the ceiling, the leather worn from other fighters before me. There’s a boxing dummy at the corner. Speed bag. Weights. A whole private gym set up here. I drop both my bags, then zip open my backpack and start to put on the gloves without bothering to remove my hoodie.

“Take that off; I need to know what you’ve got. Need to see your form,” Hennesy says.

I clench my jaw. Slowly unzip my hoodie. Take it off and glance past my shoulder, shifting to keep my back from the coach’s view. The guy is clearing the fighting area. Good. We can get down to business. He walks to me when I face him.

“Give it over.” I hand him my hoodie and he tosses it aside, then crosses his arms and looks at me. “Speedball first.”

I inhale, position myself before the speedball, and hit. Wham.

I keep on hitting, lightning fast, my fists making the bag fly.

I would have warmed up first, but I’ve been doing this for days, and I won’t stop until I’ve got myself a coach—and not even then.

I’ve got momentum now, and I pick up speed, my arms moving back and forth, working the speed bag until it’s moving so fast you can’t even see it.

I’m starting to sweat; it’s stuffy in here, but I can’t stop. I need him to take me on. I need one yes to get me in the ring. Just one yes and I’ll do the rest.

“Time.” Hennesy stops me. He signals to the boxing dummy and the heavy bag. “Let’s see you pound the bag.”

I swing out and slam my knuckles on the bag, putting everything into my fists. Thack, thump, thud.

Hennesy’s composure starts to crumble with excitement. “Holy shit, boy!”

I’m getting in to it. I’m in the zone—where it’s just me, the leather brown bag, my fists, and nothing else but slamming the spot I’m looking at.

“I’ve seen enough.” He stops the bag from swinging. His eyes glassy. “Fill this out.”

I pull off my right glove and grab a pen as he slaps a paper onto a desk at the corner. I bend down to fill out my name and contact information and realize, too late, that I exposed the tattoo on my back.

“You’re his boy.”

I freeze midsignature.

A second ticks by. Then two.

I slowly set the pen down and take one last look at the paper. I might not get to fill it out after all. I turn.

His face has paled.

I wait it out for a few beats. Maybe he’s different. Maybe he can deal with it.

He tosses my jacket at me. “Get out. Nobody wants to see you fight.”

I frown fiercely as I catch my jacket in my fist and edge forward, equally mad now. “That’s too damn bad. ’Cause I’m fighting anyway.”

I keep my eyes on him as I pull off my left glove, shove my arms into my hoodie, and zip up.

I walk out and the door slams behind me. I clench my jaw, and I shove my gloves into my bag and spot the old, black gloves inside too. I push them down into the bottom of the duffel bag and zip it up.

The season starts in a week and a half. No coach? No fight. I can’t even get into a gym.

But I won’t let anyone or anything keep me from the ring.

I pick up a penny from the ground.

And I spot a girl in workout clothes across the street, tying her shoelaces. She’s a step away from the gym door. I straighten, pull my hoodie over my head, and cross the street, following after her like I belong.

Releasing February 9th!

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Real (Book One) The Real Series

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About the Author:

Hey! I’m Katy Evans and I love family, books, life, and love. I’m married with two children and three dogs and spend my time baking, walking, writing, reading, and taking care of my family. Thank you for spending your time with me and picking up my story. I hope you had an amazing time with it, like I did. If you’d like to know more about books in progress, look me up on the Internet, I’d love to hear from you!

Website: www.katyevans.net

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Email: authorkatyevans@gmail.com