AVENGING ANGELS MC SEASON ONE BOX SET

 


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AVENGING ANGELS MC SEASON ONE: Keeper—The Avenging Angels MC Introduction, Find Her, Keeper, Loser, Reaper by Nia Farrell. Updated length: 200,362 words. Release date November 29, 2019. Follow me at Amazon and BookBub for release alerts.

Amazon e-book   Amazon US

Goodreads TBR     BookBub reviews

 

What happens when MC meets erotic romance? Find out when you enter the world created by award-winning author Nia Farrell. The Season One box set includes the updated introductory short story and books 1-4. Written for ages 18+. Includes:

 

 

KEEPER—THE AVENGING ANGELS MC INTRODUCTION.

Expanded length: 2,834 words. Originally published June 1, 2017.

Teasers and Excerpt: http://bit.ly/AAMCintroWP

 

Luke “Mad Dog” McLanahan and Isabella Castellari have a history. Kind of. He’s a member of the Avenging Angels MC and one of four brothers whom she thinks slept with her sister. Or did they? Nothing is as it seems. Isabella’s world is turned upside down when lies are exposed, truths revealed, and the man she’s been fantasizing about for three long years makes her an offer that she should refuse but can’t.

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FIND HER: AVENGING ANGELS MC BOOK 1

Length 40,669 words. Originally published date June 8, 2017.

~A 2018 Golden Flogger Finalist for Best BDSM Book of the Year~

Teasers & Excerpt http://bit.ly/AAMC1WP

 

Rose McLanahan is the princess of the Avenging Angels MC, daughter of its president and sister to four of its members, including Vice President Luke “Mad Dog” McLanahan. But Rose has a secret. She wants out of the clubhouse—and getting her CPA is her chance to have the normal life that she dreams about.

Michael O’Flaherty is a computer whiz, security systems expert, and an associate of the Avenging Angels MC. He’s Mad Dog’s best friend, as well as his brother in arms. Their days in Marine RECON are put to use when Michael is called in to find the niece of the local mob boss. Krissy Castellari has been kidnapped by a rival club, the Blackwater Demons MC. Michael discovers where she’s being held, but she’s not alone. The Demons have Rose McLanahan, too.

Mad Dog and Michael join forces to extract the girls, but Rose is still in danger, having been promised to the son of the Demon’s president Reaper. Mad Dog is tasked with returning Krissy to her family, and Michael agrees to take Rose away until it’s safe for her to return. War has been declared. Blood will be spilled. Alone in the Angels’ safehouse, the Dominant Michael and submissive Rose will finally discover each other.

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KEEPER: AVENGING ANGELS MC BOOK 2

Updated length 42,626 words. Originally published September 8, 2017.

Teasers and Excerpt http://bit.ly/AAMC2WP

When Avenging Angels MC Vice-President Luke “Mad Dog” McLanahan Mad Dog recognizes Isabella Castellari stranded on a rural country road, remembering her toxic sister, he almost doesn’t stop. Seeing her as an end to a means, he brings her back to the Avenging Angels MC clubhouse and quickly learns that she’s different—very different—than what he expected. She’s a curious innocent, and willing to submit to his domination. But there are complications. A mob boss uncle, protective parents, a traitorous friend, and secrets that have been kept for far too long. Secrets that will either bind them together or tear them apart.

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LOSER: AVENGING ANGELS MC BOOK 3

Updated length 44,898 words. Originally published May 8, 2018.

Teasers and Excerpts http://bit.ly/AAMC3WP

 

They’ve both lost something…

For kindergarten teacher and kidnapping victim Sara Davies, it was a baby. For tattoo artist and Avenging Angels MC member Flynn McGee, it was his chance at a happily ever after. Bullied as a dyslexic teen, the product of a broken home, he struggles daily with self-worth. Sara battles PTSD, anxiety, insomnia, and night terrors that require medication if she has any hope of getting some sleep.

Flynn believes that BDSM would help Sara in her healing process but she’s only done vanilla. She thinks that Flynn needs to share his original artwork with the world. Each of them pushes the other, but the conflict that comes from being outside their comfort zones only fuels their passion.

Their fledgling relationship is put to the test when Sara becomes the target of a dangerous stalker. Can Flynn and the Avenging Angels keep her safe, or will Sara become Reaper’s next victim?

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REAPER: AVENGING ANGELS MC BOOK 4

Updated length 69,335 words. Originally published January 18, 2019.

Teasers and excerpts http://bit.ly/AAMC4WP

 

This dark, gripping Season One finale is loaded with triggers. Consider yourself warned.

Maureen “Mama Mare” McLanahan is the mother of five grown children and married to Patrick “Papa Bear” McLanahan, President of the Avenging Angels MC. For twenty-eight years, she has kept secrets that could shatter her marriage and ruin their lives. When their daughter Rose is kidnapped by their rival Blackwater Demons MC, Mare’s history with the Demons’ President Reaper returns to haunt her.

Rose emerges unscathed, but Mare is taken and brutally used before she’s rescued. Between the Visconti crime family and the Avenging Angels MC, the Blackwater Demons are destroyed—all save one. Reaper escapes. Mare spends the next three years fearing for her daughter and struggling with PTSD from her ordeal.

Reaper eventually resurfaces with a vengeance, taking and using two more women before he’s through. His heinous acts demand justice, but whose hand will wield the sword?

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EXCERPT: 

Isabella bit her lip, wondering what God was thinking when her car broke down miles from nowhere and she’d prayed for help. Surely He wouldn’t send Luke McLanahan. But there was no one else in sight. The next man who stopped might just pull her from her car or force his way inside.

The devil she knew seemed the better of the two.

“Can you give me a ride home?” she asked, cringing when she saw his grin flatten.

“You think that’s wise?” He put his arm on the roof and hooked a thumb into his belt loop, drawing her gaze downward to the front of his jeans.

No wonder her sister had crushed on him.

“What?”

He sighed heavily. “I said, that didn’t work out so well last time.”

Yes, but Krissy had come back half-naked in someone else’s clothes, clinging to Mad Dog’s back, while his three brothers rode shotgun to make sure nothing happened with her dad. They’d heard the rumors. She’d lived with them all her life.

“My folks are gone. If you don’t want the neighbors to see, then drop me off at the gas station by the highway,” she said. “I’ll call my friend Anna to come get me.”

Mad Dog gave her an odd look, then nodded his head. “Get your stuff, close your windows, and lock up. I’ll get you somewhere safe.”

It wasn’t the gas station. He buzzed right by the turn-off and kept going, not stopping until he’d pulled into the Avenging Angels’ gated parking lot, lined with bikes and flanked with vehicles. “Get off and stay close,” he ordered, not bothering to see if she did.

Left with no choice, she shouldered her bag and followed him into the clubhouse.

The air was heavy with more than tobacco smoke and rife with the smell of sex. In what seemed to be the club’s communal room, every piece of furniture was occupied by bikers getting blow jobs, eating pussy, or banging one of the club sluts. In a far corner, she saw Luke’s brother Richie sprawled in a chair, thighs spread wide, while a familiar head bobbed up and down between them.

Isabella’s stomach dropped, and she turned away.

There’d be no help from Anna tonight.

Mad Dog grabbed her wrist and pulled her after him. She went, helpless to do anything else. In here, she needed his protection… even if it came at a price.

He opened a door and dragged her inside what looked to be his bedroom. A small flat-screen TV sat on a scarred maple chest of drawers. The desk beside it held a printer and a laptop computer, its screen as black as Mad Dog’s soul.

Two interior doors led to what was likely a closet and what she hoped was a bathroom. “Is there somewhere I can wash up?”

They both knew she was stalling for time. He humored her anyway. “On the left,” he said, smirking. “Don’t get lost.”

As if she could. It was the tiniest bathroom that she’d ever seen. The stool and sink were opposite each other, so close, she could nearly use them both. The shower was better, spanning the other wall, roomy enough for a man Mad Dog’s size and likely big enough to share.

She used two squares of tissue to lower the seat so she could go, then did a surgical scrub on her hands. Pulling up her knit top, she covered her fingers and twisted the doorknob.

Mad Dog was looking at her e-reader.

Shit.

He grinned like the very devil. “Seems little sister has a thing for MC’s. Who’d have guessed?”

“They’re just books,” she snapped, plucking the reader from his hand and sticking it back in her bag. “Fiction. Just because I read it doesn’t mean I want it in real life.”

“Krissy did,” he drawled. “She wanted gang banged. Trouble is, she hooked up with the wrong club. She’s lucky we came along when we did. You might not have seen her again.”

Isabella felt her legs start to buckle. Mad Dog caught her and pulled her to sit beside him on the bed.

She stared up at him, remembering, wondering how she could have gotten it so wrong.

Krissy. Prissy Krissy. Too proud to admit where she’d been, she’d said nothing, just let them think she’d spent the night with Mad Dog and his brothers.

And now her best friend was banging one of them.

Isabella hoped it was only one.

“What about Anna?”

He tsked. “Don’t give me that look. I’m not my brother’s keeper. Richie’s been seeing her for two months or so now. They seem… fond of each other.”

“Fond?” She barked a laugh. “Is that what you call it?”

He angled his head. “You don’t have to be fond of someone to give them a blow job. You don’t even have to like them.” He fastened his gaze on her mouth. “You just have to be willing… and understand the rules. Only one of us gets to bite, and it’s not you, Isabella.”

He reached for her breast, then, and she let him. Three years of forbidden fantasies were suddenly within her grasp. His was hard enough to bruise.

“My rules. My way,” he growled, pinching her nipple and making her moan. “I like it rough, little girl. You have no idea. I doubt that you can handle me, but if you want to try….”

Did she?

Isabella’s mouth went dry, and she wet her lips. “How rough?”

Mad Dog caught her chin and pushed his thumb into her mouth. “Rough,” he rumbled, his blue eyes darkening when she started sucking and teasing it with her tongue. “Spanking. Bondage. My belt, if you beg me for it. I like oral, and I like anal. Say the word, and I’ll take you home. If you stay, you’re gonna get ridden hard and put away wet.”

He pulled his thumb from her mouth and fisted her hair. “Go or stay?” Tugging downward and lifting her chin, he forced her face up to meet his heated gaze.

“Stay….”

 

REAPER: AVENGING ANGELS MC BOOK 4

REAPER: AVENGING ANGELS MC BOOK 4

by Nia Farrell

Length 69,262 words.  Release date January 18, 2019.

Amazon Universal ebook     Amazon US ebook     Goodreads reviews

 

The dark, gripping Season One finale is loaded with triggers.  Consider yourself warned.

Maureen “Mama Mare” McLanahan is the mother of five grown children and married to Patrick “Papa Bear” McLanahan, President of the Avenging Angels MC.  For twenty-eight years, she has kept secrets that could shatter her marriage and ruin their lives.  No one knows that her oldest son might belong to Reaper Rhodes, President of the rival Blackwater Demons MC.

Reaper has been obsessed with Mare since high school.  When his collection crew brings back her daughter Rose as a party favor, he decides to save her for his son.  The next girl kidnapped has a mob boss uncle.  The Visconti crime family joins forces with the Angels to rescue both girls.

Reaper’s son is killed in a retaliatory strike by the Viscontis.  Wrongfully blaming the Angels, Reaper kidnaps Mama Mare to use as bait, with plans to kill her daughter.  Mare is rescued before that happens but Reaper escapes. She spends the next three years fearing for her daughter and struggling with PTSD from her ordeal.

Reaper eventually resurfaces with a vengeance, taking and using two more women before he’s through. His heinous acts demand justice, but whose hand will wield the sword?

This book had adult situations and triggers. Written for Ages 18+.

 

Excerpt 1:

“Remember that Fourth of July at the lake?” he rumbled.  “You couldn’t keep your hands off me, even when I warned you what would happen.”

“You were g-going away,” she stuttered, gasping at the feel of his hand.  “I wanted to give you a reason to come back.”

“You shouldn’t have.  You were too goddamn young and my best friend’s little sister.  I knew Jack would kill me if he learned that we were fooling around.”

“I was fifteen,” she reminded him.  “Old enough to know what I wanted.”

What she’d wanted was Patrick McLanahan, the boy she’d loved since she was twelve.  Let skeptics laugh, but it was God’s truth.

“You were a goddamn tease,” he rumbled.  “You’d worn your swimsuit under your clothes.  You peeled them off right in front of me.  Fuck if every guy there didn’t want you.”

“Except you,” she said, remembering his resistance.

“Oh, I wanted you, too, babygirl, but I had enough sense to wait until you were older.  You didn’t let me, though, did you?”

“No, Sir.”  She supposed that she should be sorry, but she wasn’t the least bit contrite.  She had wanted Patrick to be her first.  If she’d waited—

He added a third finger, stretching her out, preparing her for his possession.  “I remember you standing by yourself chest-deep in the water.  The sky was clear enough, you could see the Milky Way stretched out like a stairway to heaven.  There was only half a moon but it was enough to see your breasts when I came over and you took off your top for me.”

Despite her blatant invitation, he hadn’t reached for her.  Her whole body had ached for his touch.  Desperate, she had taken matters into her own hands.

“You came over to me,” Papa Bear rumbled, pumping his arm and hitting her hot spot.  “You wrapped your fingers around my cock and jacked me until I came in my briefs.”

She hadn’t known what else to do.  She’d been trying to get him to notice her, but he was so goddamn stubborn.  He’d kept his distance all night, talking to her brother and their friends and drinking beer that they’d snuck in.  When the first of them followed the girls into the water, Patrick had kicked off his shoes, peeled off his clothes, and waded out to her, wearing nothing but his white cotton underwear.

She had tried to get him out of his drawers, too.

“I wanted you to screw me.  You told me you wouldn’t.”

He had tried to shut her down with a tersely murmured string of swear words and a list of mumbled reasons why they couldn’t sleep together.  She’d given him a handjob, hoping that he’d change his mind and take what she was offering.

“And how long did that last?” he asked wryly.  “A month?”

“A month and three days.”  An eternity for a teenager teetering on the edge of spontaneous combustion.  “You were headed for boot camp in the morning.”

He was leaving, and she was desperate.  Dub Rhodes had been watching her… stalking her ever since his release.  She feared what would happen if he managed to catch her alone.  He was dangerous.  She knew that.  For whatever reason, he’d become fixated on her.  She had no doubt that he was capable of rape.  Given the chance, he’d steal her innocence and rob her of choice.

He would take what she had been saving for Patrick.

Patrick Seamus McLanahan was the boy of her dreams.  In her naughtiest fantasies, she had imagined him seducing her, deflowering her.  Despite her youth, despite her brother, despite his plans for a career in the military, she’d wanted Patrick to be her first.  On his last night home, she managed to make that happen.  There were things in the past that she wished she could change, but giving herself to Patrick wasn’t one of them.

“You were tight.  So fucking tight,” he rumbled, thrusting his hand and biting her neck in a claiming that betrayed his own tumult of emotions.  Outwardly today, he had stayed strong for her, for their family, for the club.  He needed to release his stress, to decompress, to reaffirm life and hope with sex, most basic of human needs.  “I thought I’d never work my way inside, even when I finally made it past your hymen.  Five kids and twenty-eight years later, and you still fit me like a glove.”

Excerpt 2:

“You have five minutes to get yourself off—and don’t think about faking it.  If that pussy’s not dripping wet, Mojo gets to ream your ass while I’m balls-deep in your cunt.”

Five minutes.  And she was filthy.

She ran to the door.  Swiped her face, wiped her hands, and cleaned her finger.  Instead of going back to the bed, she stayed where she was, facing the door.

Mare parted her folds with one hand and shoved her other hand between her legs.  Finding her clit, she teased it, circled it, rubbed it, fanning her flesh like a fire-starter, her fingers intent on sparking flames.  The heat built.  A familiar tension took hold of her core.  A desperate twist of her nipple and she came, gasping from the strength of her release.  Her body stiffened while her core convulsed.  Pussy walls spasmed, squeezing her juices like nectar from a cider press to trickle down her thighs.

She rested her forehead against the door, regaining her breath.

Reaper knocked it out of her again.

Coming up behind her, he kicked her feet apart, shoved his cock between her legs, found her opening, and impaled her with one, vicious thrust.  He slammed into her again, shoving her against the door, pinning her to it like a butterfly that he’d collected, spread, and mounted—except that she wasn’t dead. 

Not yet, anyway.

“Fuck, that was hot,” he grunted in her ear.  Sliding his teeth down her neck, he bit her shoulder so hard, she wondered if he’d drawn blood.  She whimpered from the pain and clamped down on her tongue to keep from begging.

“So fucking hot.”  He drilled into her, hips slamming into her with the force of a jackhammer and the ruthless rhythm of a heavy metal drum.  Reaching, he caught both breasts in a bruising grip and held her against him, her back to his front.

He tasted the tattoo on her shoulder, tracing the lines with his tongue.  “Ink’s good on you, little girl.  If we had more time, I’d commission another.  A tramp stamp with the Demons’ logo.  Every time you did it doggie, Papa Bear would know that I’ve owned this ass, too.”

With that, he pulled out, changed angles, and claimed her most private place, ignoring her squeals and pushing past the rings of muscle to seat himself inside.

“There it is,” he grated.  “As tight as I remember.  You were my first.  I’d never taken a girl’s ass.  I’d heard about it but had never done it.”

He jacked his hips and started pumping.  Her tender tissue screamed its objection.

“You were too drugged to fight me even if you’d been free.  I couldn’t turn you over bound to the bed, and I couldn’t lift your legs, so I untied you, flipped you over, and took your virgin ass.”

He was pounding into her now, reaming her raw, ruthless, merciless, a savage rut that ended with a sharp thrust and a guttural cry.

He poured himself into her depths.  When the last pulsing stream had subsided, he shook himself like the beast that he was and pulled out.  She tightened her sphincter, hoping to contain as much of the mess as she could.

Letting go of her breast, he took the washcloth off the doorknob and cleaned his junk with it.

He stuffed it in her crack when he was done.

“Turn around.”

She straightened from the door and pivoted on the balls of her feet to face him, feeling debased and ill-used and dirtier than she’d ever felt in her life.

“I hate you,” she whispered hoarsely.

He slid his dark brown gaze from her lips to her eyes, shook his head slowly, and tsked.  “You’re gonna hate me more before this is done.”

Leaning into her, he pushed her against the door.  His thickening cock surged between them, eager for another round.  Humping her with it, he whispered in her ear.  “Five minutes thirty-three seconds….”

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