Devil’s Marker by Victoria Danann
Sons of Sanctuary MC, Austin, Texas Book 4
by Victoria Danann
Genre: MC Contemporary Romance (hot heat level)
- The Waco, Texas Marauders MC is on the verge of war.
- New arrivals, Stars and Bars MC, are engaged in activities too nefarious for even the notorious Marauders.
- New SSMC member, Win Garrett, is planted inside to get information and fill a marker owed by the club.
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Victoria Danann, adds a bit of grit and reality to the runaway hit series Sons of Sanctuary. Devils Marker is a tale of romance and suspense loosely based on actual events.
CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE.
A biker who walked away from a SoCal outlaw club came to the SSMC seeking a quiet life that might become a long life. Little did he know he was jumping out of the frying pan into the fire when the club president asked him to fill a marker owed to a Texas Ranger.
Win Garrett chose the fast track option to respect and a full patch with the club, but things changed when the daughter of the Marauders’ prez caught his eye. Now all he wants is to get out alive with the little blonde bombshell who has his heart clenched in a vice grip with passion pink fingernails.
“Suspense, loyalty, brotherhood, compassion, humor and romance…Sons of Sanctuary has something for everyone.”
“I could be marked. Clubs have a way of figurin’ things out.”
“That’s why it’s gotta be up to you. Full patch comes with full backing. Of course.” Win looked out the window, seemingly working through all the pros and cons. “You left your old club in good standing. Right?”
“So they’d speak for you if asked.”
“I suppose. The leadership had become kind of… unpredictable.”
“That happens. If you were asked, just explain it like that.”
“You sound like you think I’m sayin’ yes.”
“Got a feelin’ you’re leanin’ that way. Am I wrong?”
Win shook his head. “No. You’re not wrong. Kinda wish you were. I was just gettin’ the accounts set up and…”
“When you get back you’ll have that plus a lot more. You do this for us, you got our trust with our backs and our money.” Brant took a sip of coffee and then said, “But not our women.”
Realizing that his anxiety and indecision was creating tension in the room, Win consciously decided to lighten the mood. He grinned. “Your wife is…”
Brant said, “Stop right there, prospect. You got no call to say a word about the mother of my sons. No matter how beautiful and smart and polished and rich she is.” Brant grinned, but in a way that was more menacing than teasing. “You need some time to think about it?”
Win shook his head. “Thinkin’ about it’s not gonna change a thing. So no point. I guess I’m in. But for the record, I’d like to have it known that I’m not into reckless or suicidal. Got your word that my loyalty won’t be questioned? I mean if I survive?”
“I got a strong feelin’ you’re gonna be back as a full patch member. If I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t have even brought this up. But I’ve been doin’ this long enough to say that when my gut speaks, I listen up.”
Win gave a nod that was both slight and unconvincing, more an acknowledgement than an agreement. “And I have your word that my loyalty won’t be questioned again. Ever.”
Brant stilled and looked the younger man squarely in the face so that he could absorb the seriousness and sincerity of the answer. “Yes. You do. I’m gonna call the Ranger right now, with you sittin’ there. So stay put.” Brant punctuated that order by pointing to the chair underneath Win’s firmly muscled behind.
“Call me back,” Brant said into the phone. “While we’re waitin’, why don’t you tell me if there’s somethin’ I need to look after regardin’ the accounts you’ve been messin’ with.”
Win took exception to the term ‘messin’ with’, but chose not to challenge the club president about his word choice. He opened his mouth to reply, but Brant’s phone rang. Brant looked at the face of the phone and accepted the call.
“He’ll do it. But if anythin’ goes wrong, you’re gonna answer to me personally.” Win could hear the muted sound of a vocal response, but couldn’t make out the words. “Stipulation. He’ll have full immunity. No. Matter. What. And he will not testify to anything later. He’ll give you a one on one confidential debriefing. In secret. Just the two of you. This is a deal breaker. Take it or leave it.” Brant paused to let the other man respond. “Just to reiterate. We’re talkin’ about a month maximum. And, if anything, I mean anything, goes south before that, I don’t care if it’s an hour after arrival, he’s outta there.”
As Win sat and listened to the one sided conversation his respect for Brant blossomed. The prez negotiated like a lawyer and seemed to really give a damn about Win’s future.
Brant hung up and looked at Win. “Gotta protect our golden goose.” Brant opened a drawer and pulled out a new burner phone.
Two brothers unknown to each other on a crash course with fate and two broken hearts.
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.
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 caught a plane to New York, on a mission to find a mysterious asshole walking around with his face.
Brandon St. Germaine was at the top of the billionaire playboy heap when he learned about a side of the family that had been kept secret. He left New York, moved to Austin, and took most of the corporate empire with him.
His dad, president of the club his grandfather founded, spent three decades converting the club’s income sources to legitimate business dealings. One of the biggest earners was the security service. When a ridiculously wealthy, but justifiably frightened father hires the SSMC to protect his daughter from the psycho she’s divorcing, Brand gets the job.
Cannon Johns was a man who’d once had the world in his hands and lost everything. When he rode his Harley underneath the motel office overhang just after midnight, he was soaking wet and looking for the only comfort life still had to offer. The escape of sleep.
After being told there was no food available at that time of night, he pulled his ride into the room he’d just rented and went looking for dinner in the vending machines. When he was eight feet away, he saw movement by the Mountain Dew column. In addition to being bone weary, world weary, and out of options, he was out of sorts with no patience for shenanigans.
“Come on out of there and state your business.” He had to raise his voice to a near-shout to be heard over the pounding rain.
After a slight hesitation, a small figure emerged in a yellow plastic poncho, the kind you can get at the grocery store for a couple of bucks. As soon as she reached up to pull the hood back from her head he knew it was a woman by the delicate size of her hands and the way she moved.
The light was dim, but he saw her clearly as if it was noon on a bright sunny day. His late wife had once told him that he had to change out the light fixture in the kitchen because “nobody looks good in fluorescent light”. The girl standing in front of him was proof it just ain’t so.
Her eyes were violet blue. And wide. He wasn’t sure if that was because of fear or misery. Like him, she soaking wet. Unlike him, she was shivering. Whether that was from fear or cold he couldn’t guess.
“What the hell you doing out here, girl?” He looked around. “Something got you spooked?”
She licked her bottom lip. “No, ah, I’m just a little down on luck is all. I don’t want any trouble.”
“Don’t want no trouble, huh?”
It wasn’t a question. He said it as if it was a provable fact. She shook her head to both punctuate his assessment and agree with it.
“Yeah. Me, neither. At least not tonight.”
New York Times bestselling author of eighteen romances including paranormal, scifi, fantasy, contemporary, and teen. Victoria’s Knights of Black Swan series won BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES and PARANORMAL ROMANCE NOVEL OF THE YEAR the past FOUR YEARS IN A ROW. This past year two of her series took the top two places and two of her books took first and second place Paranormal Romance of the Year category. – Reviewers Choice Awards, The Paranormal Romance Guild.
Her 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, occasionally, 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, werewolves, hybrids, psychics, or past life therapists. Her heroes are hot and hunky, but they also have brains, character, and good manners… usually.
The rich characterizations come from being a lifelong student of behavior, casually, and a serious student of behavior academically. She also studied comparative religion, myths, and Dark Ages history.
Victoria lives in The Woodlands, Texas with her husband and a very smart, mostly black German Shepherd dog.