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Driftwood Disciple Series

The Driftwood Disciples

Being a Disciple means being part of a brotherhood. Having an unbreakable bond with the men you ride with, the men you do business with, and the men you would kill for—or die for. Nothing comes before the Club, and they have a code to follow. Just one thing will shake the loyalty they show one another—the women who will become their Old Lady. A woman worth protecting, keeping, and fighting—or killing for.  

These wild men are reined in once they meet their match in this gritty, dirty, raw series!   

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No one gets to the top without stepping on some necks. I did my share of stepping to get where I am—and I am going nowhere anytime soon. I am cold, calculating, and I love hurting people. I am not the VP of the Driftwood Disciples because I like to bake cakes. Funny enough, I do like to bake cakes. And my sweet tooth gets me in trouble.  

Penni is the sweetest thing I have ever seen—and I will have her, no matter who tries to get in my way.  


Being the Sheriff’s sister means my Friday nights are a bore. No one wants to piss off my brother and when I try to stir up a good time on my own, he shows up. Not the Sheriff—the cocky, mean, smart-mouthed prez of the Driftwood Disciples. If my brother knew he kept hounding me, he would throw him in jail and lose the key.  

Good thing for Mr. President I happen to like his attention—even if I know it could lead to trouble.  

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No one has ever called me a good man. I never claimed to be one, either. All I ever claimed to be was honest, even if the truth hurts. And it often does. The truth is once I laid eyes on Cherri Folks, I decided she was mine. I don’t care if she is too young, and I am too dark. That woman is mine and no one, not even the Prez will tell me different.



I know someone is following me. I see him in the shadows and sometimes I hear him outside my window at night. Any other woman would be scared. They might ask for help. And I should do that. I know I should. But I don’t. Because when I feel him in the shadows or sense his footsteps, I feel safe. It is a feeling I never knew before and I now that I know it, I don’t want to go without it again.  

All that’s left to do is find out who he is—even if that means following him right back.  

When I wind up at the Driftwood Dogs clubhouse, I realize just how dangerous the situation is. Doesn’t stop me from going up to their Prez and asking who my stalker is—so I can thank him.  

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I am not the strong, silent type. I am no dark knight on a white horse. I am just a man on a bike who saw someone who needed help. Once I come to her rescue, I am the one in trouble. Because her loud laugh and crinkly smile along with those thick curves pierce my shields. I am at her mercy, and she knows it.  


Being the youngers of four boys ought to mean I know how to pick men. How to avoid the losers. But if you look at the trail of broken relationships behind me, you’d know that’s a falsehood. I do not know how to pick men—which is why I am not surprised when a stranger has to save me after the last one threw me out on the street.  

He says he is a bad guy playing the good guy part. I know better. He might be the sweetest man I have ever met—but I won’t tell his bad boy biker buddies that.  

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These men are all I know. The Disciples are the only family I have. Running right from a foster home to the military meant I never knew love before. At least not love without tangles and ties. Both of which I want nothing to do with. Nothing scares me but the idea of being locked up or locked down.  

That is, until I see the beautiful Bless—and all I want is to lock her down.  


They call me a free spirit but there is little about my life that has come free. I owed a debt just for being alive. Owed my father, my mother, my brothers, anyone who wanted to take a pound of flesh from me. I decided as a young girl I would never owe anything to anyone again. I ran and never looked back and the last place I want to be is in debt to a burly biker man.  

Bruiser is the first person I run to when I need help—which he gives without asking a thing in return. I might not mind being in debt to this biker man.  

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Hawk Palermo

I am a tough bastard who never falls for anything. At least, until I save a pretty little bird from getting her ticket punched. Now she owes me and owning a member of Dirty Sinners is never good--unless you're looking to be owned forever.  

Harlow Jayne

I grew up on the streets, so not much scares me. Well, unless it’s the soft way Hawk looks at me once I am owe him something.  Because he does not want me to repay him by using my skills as a thief. No, he wants to be paid back by my body and my heart.  

 Neither of which I have ever given before. 

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