Friday, March 10, 2017



















































Once a Disciple, forever a Disciple.

Ace has been keeping secrets, and not just from his club brothers.
Secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.
All of his are about to be revealed,
whether he’s ready to face them or not.

A Disciple will fight like a savage—even against his past.

When Quinn waltzes into the Disciples' clubhouse,
she's only after one thing—and it isn't Ace.
She wants closure, an end to what they started so long ago.
But with the heat exploding, Ace and Quinn are far from over.

When this biker is forced to confront his past, everything will ignite.













An hour or two after the library opened, I was going over an interlibrary loan order when I looked up to see a face less than two feet from mine.
“Jesus!” I cried on a whisper I only managed due to years of practice.
Max, my unrepentant best friend, just grinned at me, swirling a piece of her blonde hair around a finger.
“What’s the matter with you? Sneaking up on people is a good way to get yourself hurt,” I informed her.
She shrugged. “I ever see you holding a weapon, I might reconsider my tactics.”
“A heavy book can do some damage,” I pointed out. We were in the reference section, after all.
“And you’d sooner throw yourself at me than any of the books in this library,” she replied.
Well, she wasn’t wrong.
“Shouldn’t you be working?” I changed subjects. Max was a barista at a local coffee shop. She joked about it being a good filler job until she married rich and never had to work again. At least I tried to chalk it up as a joke, but I wasn’t always so sure.
“I’m on lunch.”
“Your lunch is half an hour.”
“And you’re avoiding the subject,” she chastised.
“There’s a point to this sneak attack?”
“Um…meeting with the P.I. this morning? Info on He Who Shall Not Be Named? Ring a bell?”
“It’s He Who Must Not Be Named,” I corrected.
She rolled her eyes. “Jack tries to kill all the muggle-borns, he can get upgraded to ‘must’. Until then, we’ll stick with ‘shall’.”
That was a fair point.
I dropped my eyes to my computer and hit send on the order to the Portland Public Library.
“So, what? You’re just going to ignore me?” she demanded.
I sighed before meeting her blue eyes. “I’ve got an address.”
Her face showed her glee. Why she was enjoying this saga so much, I had no idea. “Where is he?”
“A town called Hoffman,” I explained. “It’s four hours northeast.”
Letting her stew on that for a second, I grabbed the return cart and wheeled it around the desk. A pretty frequent visitor when I was working, Max fell right into step with me as I went to re-shelve.
“Wait. He’s still in Oregon?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Four hours away? That’s it?”
“Four hours,” I repeated.
“What a smarmy motherfucker.”
There was a time when I would have disagreed with her. There was even a time I had disagreed with her, but I’d learned my lesson the hard way. Even now, I couldn’t bring myself to agree out loud.
“Are you going tomorrow?” Max asked after a minute of silence.
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. I couldn’t let myself hesitate—not out loud and not in my own head. If I did, I would chicken out. It was time. I needed this. I needed to finally confront him once and for all.
“Good for you,” Max said, her voice uncharacteristically serious—not that Max couldn’t have a serious conversation, just that her personality tended to bubble up through everything. She was loud, spirited, excitable. I rarely heard her speak in that low, almost grave tone.
I really, really hoped she was right.
“You’ll call me after you see him?” she inquired.
I sighed again, knowing I was bound to get a reaction from this. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to see him right away. It might take some time.”
“Why? You said you had his address.”
“Apparently he joined a motorcycle club,” I told her, watching her jaw unhinge. “The place he’s living belongs to them, so I’m not sure I’ll be let in if he doesn’t want to see me.”
“Holy shit,” she muttered, still gaping. “You’re serious?”
“Based on the way the investigator tried to warn me from going up there, I’m going with he was telling the truth.”
“Are you sure you want to do this alone? I can come with you,” she offered, an idea probably at least as much about not wanting to miss the adventure as it was about being a loving, supportive friend.
“Really? You and what time off?” I reminded her.
She scrunched her nose. “Admittedly, his highness told me if I bail on any more days this month, I shouldn’t bother coming back in.”
“His highness” was Max’s name for her manager. The owner of the coffee shop was never there or involved in anything employee-related. That was all Marcus. The way Max told it, Marcus was a terror with a dictator complex. I took this with a grain of salt seeing as just two weeks ago, Max told me she wasn’t going into work at all because saw a Kate Spade bag online she wanted. My suggestion that she just order it off the website or at least wait until after work to hit the mall had fallen on deaf ears.
“I’ll be fine, promise,” I assured her.
“Okay, but if I need to drive up to wherever the fuck and junk punch him, you just let me know.”
I laughed, and couldn’t help but think how lucky I was to have her. Without Max, I never would have gotten the nerve to finally face him.
Now, I just had to make sure I didn’t lose my nerve before I made it to Hoffman.
































Drew Elyse spends her days trying to convince the world that she is, in fact, a Disney Princess, and her nights writing tear-jerking and smutty romance novels. Her debut novel, Dissonance, released in August of 2014.

When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found over-analyzing every line of a book, binge watching a series on Netflix, doing strange vocal warm ups before singing a variety of music styles, or screaming at the TV during a Chicago Blackhawks game.

A graduate of Loyola University Chicago with a BA in English, she still lives in Chicago, IL where she was born and raised with her boyfriend and her prima donna pet rabbit, Lola.

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