TWO PRINCES: The Biker and The Billionaire
Sons of Sanctuary MC, Book 1
Name of Editor Julie Roberts
Name of cover designer Victoria Danann
Official genre of book Contemporary Romance
Content warning 17+
Two brothers, one a player, one a playboy, are on a collision course with destiny and a woman who thought she’d scored a coup when she was allowed a look inside the Sons of Sanctuary Motorcycle Club.
Brigid was a graduate student at the University of Texas. It wasn’t hard getting her thesis approved, but finding a Hill Country motorcycle club willing to give her access to their lifestyle was starting to look impossible. Then she got a lead. A friend of a friend had a cousin with family ties to The Sons of Sanctuary. Perfect. Or so she thought.
What she wanted was information to prove a scholarly proposition. The last thing she had in mind was falling for one of the members of the club. Especially since she was a feminist academic out to prove that motorcycle clubs are organized according to the same structure as primitive tribal society.
Brash was standing in line at the H.E.B. Market when his world tipped on its axis. While waiting his turn to check out, his gaze had wandered to the magazine display and settled on the new issue of “NOW”. The image on the cover, although GQ’d up in an insanely urbane way, was… him.
After reading the article, he threw some stuff in a duffle and left his only home, a room at The Sons of Sanctuary clubhouse, with a vague explanation about needing a couple of days away. He left his truck at the Austin airport and caught a plane for New York, on a mission to find a mysterious guy walking around with his face.
“Sir?” Brash Fornight gradually became aware that someone behind him in the grocery checkout line was trying to get his attention. “Sir?” He refocused and glanced behind him. The woman leaning on a cart overflowing with chip bags and cookie boxes nodded toward the cashier indicating that it was his turn to move forward. Brash looked her in the eye and had to give her props. Most people wouldn’t have the balls to try to herd a guy wearing Sons of Sanctuary MC leather.
The club employed a woman who cooked and did grocery shopping several times a week as part of her job description, but Brash didn’t like to explain his relentless craving for peanuts and he liked being teased about it even less. He didn’t know whether it was the Vitamin B or the fat or just because he liked the taste, but he couldn’t imagine going a day without them.
That’s how he came to be standing statue still In the grocery checkout line, being prompted by some woman with more nerve than sense. While he was waiting, his eyes drifted over the magazine display and settled on the cover of “NOW”, on the Most Eligible Bachelor edition no less. The debonair figure staring back was wearing Brash’s own face and body. He looked different with short hair and a four thousand dollar suit with the shirt fashionably open at the neckline, but the similarity was inescapable.
On impulse he grabbed the magazine and tossed it onto the conveyor belt with his week’s stash of peanuts.
He stuffed the bags into the saddlebags of his bike and roared toward home, nervously tapping his fingers on handlebars at red lights, riding on shoulders to keep from slowing down. He was anxious to get to the privacy of his own room and read about Branach St. Germaine.
Two beers, one jar of peanuts, and one “NOW” article later, Brash was sitting on the edge of his bed looking at the wall, seeing nothing but his own heavy thoughts. He pulled out his phone, looked up a website, and waited on hold for ten minutes to hear the time of the next flight from Austin to New York.
There was a flight to Newark in a little over three hours. He looked at his watch and calculated the time it would take to drive from Dripping Springs at that time of day. As he booked the flight, he stood up, walked to the small closet, grabbed a duffel bag, and began shoving stuff into it. Ten minutes later, he closed his door and locked it, threw the duffel over his shoulder, and headed straight for the office downstairs. He dropped the duffel on the hallway floor beside the closed door and knocked.
“Yeah?” Brash looked inside, glad that his dad was by himself, and stepped in. “What’s up?”
“I’m takin’ personal time, Pop. Gonna be gone for a couple of days.”
“What the hell is ‘personal time’?”
The gruffness made Brash smile. “It means I’m not gonna be here if you call and I’m not tellin’ you why.”
The Sons of Sanctuary President looked up at Brash, over the top of his readers, and narrowed his eyes. “You got a secret?”
“Everybody’s got secrets.”
Brandon Fornight studied his son for a minute. “True enough. Is it the kind of secret that could affect this club?”
Brash shook his head. “Don’t see how.”
“Well, then. See you… When did you say you’d be back?”
“I didn’t.”
“Bein’ purposefully vague, are you?”
Brash grinned. “That’s why they call it personal time. But I expect to be back Friday.”
“You gonna have your phone with you?” When Brash nodded, Bran looked back down at his ledger in a deliberately dismissive gesture. “Well, get outta here then.”
Brash parked his bike in the airplane hangar. The structure had already been on the property when the club had bought it and turned it into a compound twenty years earlier. They used part of it for vehicle maintenance and repair and part for parking.
Some of the guys who were working looked over and shot curious glances his way when Brash threw his duffel into his pickup and started it up, but it wasn’t their way to ask questions. The Sons figured that if somebody wanted you to know something, they’d tell you.
Brash took a cab to a midtown hotel, wondering all the way why human beings would choose to live in such a place. As he slid his credit card across the hotel counter to the agent on duty, he glanced at the name, Brandon Fornight. It seemed unlikely that it was a coincidence that that the mysterious look-alike’s first name began with the same four letters. He ordered room service and pulled out his laptop.
Getting intel on the guy didn’t take advanced ops. Within an hour Brash knew where Brannach St. Germaine worked, what kind of car he drove, what kind of women he dated, who his tailor was, and where he liked to dine. There was no shortage of photos online, but the one that grabbed his attention wasn’t one of the many with starlets or debutantes on his arm. It was the one taken with his arm around his mother as they were arriving together for some red carpet fundraiser. Brash had an almost irresistible compulsion to reach up and touch her face on the screen in front of him.
The knock on the door signaled that room service had arrived. It cost a fortune, but looked and tasted like shit. So he closed the computer and went out for a walk to clear his head and find something edible.
USA TODAY Bestselling Author, Victoria Danann, is making her debut into Contemporary Romance with releases in May and June 2015, after taking the world of PNR by storm.
Her Knights of Black Swan series won BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES TWO YEARS IN A ROW (2013, 2014). Reviewers Choice Awards, The Paranormal Romance Guild.
Victoria's paranormal romances come with uniquely fresh perspectives on "imaginary" creatures, characters, and themes. She adds a dash of scifi, a flourish of fantasy, enough humor to make you laugh out loud, and enough steam to make you squirm in your chair. Her heroines are independent femmes with flaws and minds of their own whether they are aliens, witches, demonologists, psychics, past life therapists, or financial analysts from Dallas. Her heroes are hot and hunky, but they also have brains, character, and good manners - usually - whether they be elves, demons, berserkers, werewolves, or vampires.
The first book of the Knights of Black Swan Paranormal Romance Series, My Familiar Stranger, was nominated for Best Paranormal Romance of 2012 by both Reviewers' Choice and Readers' Choice Awards. All of her books have opened on the Amazon Best Sellers list and earned Night Owl Reviews TOP PICK awards. Many have appeared on Listopia BOOK OF THE MONTH as #1 across all genres.
For books published in 2013, Black Swan won three awards. 1. Best Paranormal Romance Series 2. Best Paranormal Romance Novel - A SUMMONER'S TALE 3. Best Vampire~Shifter Novel - MOONLIGHT. In 2014, Solomon's Sieve won Best Vampire Novel.
If you're interested in Victoria personally, she is also a classically trained musician who defected to Classic Rock music. Until 2013 she was the utility player for Houston's Roadhouse band, which means she played rhythm guitar, keyboards, sang back ups and female leads. Her band covered everything (note for note) from Styx to Led Zepellin to Rush.
She lives in The Woodlands, Texas with her husband and a very smart, mostly black German Shepherd dog.
Kindle or Nook gift copy of Sexoirs of a Gigolo - Ash Armand ebook.
(Ash Armand is the star of Showtime’s Gigolos and is featured on the cover of TWO PRINCES)
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~ Book Blitz~ Summer Fire by 21 New York Times, USA Today, and National Bestselling Authors~5/21/2015 Summer Fire Anthology Publication date: May 26th 2015 Genres: Contemporary, Romance Synopsis: 21 ALL NEW Contemporary Romance stories by New York Times, USA Today, and National Bestselling authors. Love when it’s hot? So do romance writers. Especially when we’re writing about gritty alphas, angsty bad boys, sizzling attraction, and unrequited passion. So loosen your buttons, turn the fan to oscillate and join us for this steamy, groundbreaking bundle of summer tales that are hot hot hot. PREORDER LINKS: Amazon: http://amzn.to/1Dv2jy3 Apple: http://bit.ly/1CVOgih B&N: http://bit.ly/18d9QY0 KOBO: http://bit.ly/19QsJAD ALL THE AMAZING AUTHORS: Gennita Low Stacey Mosteller R.J. Lewis L. Wilder Victoria Danann Kym Grosso Cat Miller Mimi Barbour Clarissa Wild Teresa Gabelman Linda Barlow Helen Scott Taylor Victoria James Mona Risk Patrice Wilton Joan Reeves Danielle Jamie Terri Marie Lorhainne Eckhart Brandy L. Rivers Nicole Blanchard Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25026469-summer-fire?ac=1 Purchase: Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00U1DZH7C/ref=x_gr_w_bb?ie=UTF8&tag=x_gr_w_bb_ca-20&linkCode=as2&camp=15121&creative=330641 Excerpt from Irish Kisses by Helen Scott Taylor Aaron closed his eyes and absorbed the warmth of Fiona’s arms around his neck. Her silky hair tickled his skin and filled the air with the fragrance of cherries from her shampoo. Just her touch pushed back the darkness that had threatened to overwhelm him. Much of the time he could keep his terrible memories locked away, but occasionally something would rise from the mire and he’d be right back there, reliving a shooting he’d witnessed, or worse. He gathered Fiona’s hands in his and lifted them to his lips. He’d been such a fool. When he first went undercover, he’d imagined coming to tell her about it afterwards like some movie star playing at being a detective. The reality had shocked him. In the last six years, hardly a day had passed when he wasn’t terrified he’d be found out and killed. And the deeper he got, the more he had to play the role. He’d felt like he was digging his own grave and burying himself. “Talk to me if it’ll help,” she whispered. “I’m not allowed to until it’s come to trial and the cases are over.” Even then he wouldn’t want to tell her, wouldn’t want to disgust her and shock her. He kissed her hands again. “You’re sweet and good and everything that’s right with this world. I need to keep you separate from the darkness.” Excerpt from His Promise
There wasn’t a day that Kim hadn’t loved Bruce. Never in a million years had she doubted that they would be together. At seventeen, they were inseparable. She couldn’t imagine, as she stared up at the thousands of stars in the dark Montana sky not kissing Bruce or feeling his touch on every other day like this one, when she would gaze up at the light of the moon or the bright blue sky. But then, you never forget the taste of your first love. He touched her the way no other man could. It was imprinted on her soul—the way she molded against him, skin to skin, with each breath. Each moment with him, kissing, touching, or just talking, the sound of his voice melted her soul and had her yearning to see him again before he even left. She didn’t believe her lips would ever forget the taste of his love. His touch, his smile, the light in his hazel eyes when he held her face in his hands the very first time he’d kissed her—it was all burned forever in her memory. Like yesterday. “Hey, baby.” He came up behind her, sliding his hand over the flat of her stomach. He lifted her hair and pressed a kiss to her cheek before sliding his lips down the soft skin on her neck. He was pulling her back with him into the shadows. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, then giggled. She couldn’t help it, as he had his hand under her shirt. He’d pulled the long cotton fabric free from the waistband of her jeans and was running his hand over her skin. His belt buckle was pressing into her. She craved the feel of him all the time and mourned his touch when he was gone. “Where your daddy can’t find us,” he said. He had his hand on the rail of the wooden ladder that led up to the loft. “Go on.” She didn’t hesitate as she climbed the rail. She could hear the tractor purring in the field. The sound carried, so she knew as long as she could hear it in the distance, they had time alone. “You weren’t supposed to be here today,” she said. “You said you couldn’t come, that you had to pack.” He pulled her to their space in the loft where the hay bales were stacked against the dark planks. She climbed over the two bales and into their hidden spot, a bed of hay with an old blanket thrown overtop. It was where they always met, where they hid out together. It was where they’d met last night, when she’d snuck out of the house after her parents were asleep. It was where they’d last been together—touching, tasting, exploring each other. “I couldn’t leave without seeing you again.” He pulled her down with him so they were lying side by side. Her body had a mind of its own and responded to Bruce, moving closer to him, her legs tangled with his, her hands pulling at his shirt, kissing him as she threaded her fingers through his short brown hair. She loved his hair, how it too seemed to do whatever it wanted. The natural waves always had that messy bad-boy look, and every time he cut it, it made the smile that lit up his face and his eyes stand out on his cheeks. And his lips…full and so kissable. Oh, and could Bruce kiss. She loved his long, lean body, his legs, how much taller he was than her—how much stronger. She truly believed he was forever hers, and he wouldn’t let anything come between them. But she was wrong. Oh so wrong. “Just one more kiss,” he said as he leaned over her. “I need to know you’ll wait for me.” “You know I will. I wish you didn’t have to go.” She wanted to cry. It would be ninety-three days of hell until she could feel his touch again, feel his lips on her again, feel his love again. Life was so unfair. “Kim! Kim!” It was her mother calling out. “I have to go, but I don’t want to,” she said, rolling onto her back, her hands above her head. He kissed her one more time and pulled a strand of hay from her hair. “I’ll call you. I promise I will. Baby, remember I fall in love with you over and over every single day. Nothing will come between us. Remember this, feel this.” He took her hand and pressed it to his beating heart. “It’s for you, only for you, that my heart beats. This moment, the way you look now, the blueness in your eyes and how they smile only for me and beg me into your loving arms, the way your long hair teases me and has that curly, messy look even when you try to brush it straight…” Not a day had gone by without her remembering those last moments together—almost twenty years ago, now. She’d promised to be his forever…that was, until she married someone else. |
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