Port Royal, South Carolina, was my home. I was born there. I fell in love there. And I nearly died there. I never thought I'd go back. Now, after so many years, I have to return to bury the man who made my life a living hell. Some nights, I used to cry myself to sleep, praying my father would die. Other nights were different. Other nights, there was him. Callan Cross.

If there is one thing I won't allow, it's having my dad's MC run into the ground. Everyone expects my brothers to take charge, but there is one thing no one knows. I'm the one that runs this club. A woman. And according to men, a woman's place is in bed, not at the head of the table. News flash: I'm not only going to be the head of the table, but I'm putting the word out. Women can join. Men can join. Everyone can join and be accepted. My brothers? We are all triplets and they support me and have my back. I'm taking the bull by its horns. And this MC is mine.

Troy Brennan: Every Southie in Boston knows that name. The son of a dead mobster. The heartthrob with steel-blue eyes. "The Fixer" who can make or break you in this city. Oh, and my new husband. Sparrow Raynes: That's me. No one seemed to remember my name up until he barged into my life. But then he caged me. Kidnapped me. And killed every chance I had to run away from the place where we grew up.

An Irish mobster. A missing friend. Two loyalties, ripping me apart. I had a plan. Get in, get my information, and get out. Easy, right? Turns out, infiltrating the Irish mafia isn't exactly what I thought it would be. I just wanted a soldier. Someone I could flirt with to get me in the door. That's when Lachlan Crow noticed me. Problem was, he wasn't a soldier. No, he was next in line for the throne of the Irish underworld. And he was determined to hate me from the outset.

Nothing can end before it begins. My beginning started with the death of my best friend. And the kid he left behind...I had no idea what to do. But I made a promise. Jenkins was my responsibility. But he wasn't the only one I had. Raising a kid while being the president of the Ruthless Kings MC? The club had as much influence over him as I did.

When Lucy decided to run, she didn't know where to go. They were coming for her. She needed protection, but she had no one to help her. Until she came across the warehouse of the Deathstalkers MC and begged them for protection. Now she owes them her life and her loyalty. Her family will never end their search for her; she is a piece of property that needs to be recovered at any cost necessary. For Lucy, there are worse things than needing to hide for the rest of her life, being found is one of those things.

I didn't think answering someone else's cell phone would change my life. But the stranger with the low, deep voice on the other end of the line tempted me, awakened my body, set me on fire. He was looking for someone else. Instead he found me. And I found a hot, secret world where I felt alive for the first time.

Abby has been through hell and has survived one of the most brutal childhoods imaginable. To the outside world, she is just a loner with an attitude. When her grandmother dies in a tragic explosion, Abby is left with questions - and nothing else. Homeless, sleeping in a junkyard, and on the run from a system that has failed her over and over again, she meets Jake, a tattooed, blue-eyed biker with secrets that rival her own. Two broken souls that can't be healed. They can't be saved.

One day you held my hand. One day you loved me. Then you were gone. At sixteen, I lost the only love I'd ever known. Thrown back into the foster system, pregnant and alone, I prayed that you'd come for me and save me from life's cruelties. Only the next time I saw you, it was too late.

After enduring years of manipulation and an immeasurable amount of loss, Charlotte Kelly makes one last-ditch effort to change her life and try to find happiness again. She knows she'll see him when she moves back to Wisconsin. She's planning on it; the connection she still feels to him after all these years is undeniable. But one lie tore them apart years ago, and she's afraid some mistakes can't be forgiven.

His name is Nate and I should hate him, but I don't. I'm not supposed to know his real name, even worse, I'm not supposed to care. He is nothing to me but means to an end. The plan is simple: break free, collect the pieces of my broken soul, kill the bastards and run away.

Vegas is where good people go to sin. Reno is where the bad ones go. Amidst the drugs, weapons, and trafficking, a murder-for-hire market has emerged. And my motorcycle club is right in the thick of it. If you can pay, we have a million different ways to solve your problem. You want someone to vanish without a trace? The Great Basin Desert is almost two hundred thousand square miles of "nobody will ever find you." You want to make a statement? We've been known to hang bodies from the Reno Arch.

People call me Father, but I prefer Frank, because I'm the worst preacher you'll ever meet. Days spent completely wasted pull a number on you, especially when you've got a truckload of baggage that comes with it. Until this beautiful girl in the back of the church takes my breath away. And we end up committing sacrilege in the confessional. Bad doesn't even begin to describe me, and after one taste of what she's got to offer, I want more.

Remember how many lies we told, Molly? It’s enough to make my head spin. You were wild when I met you, and I was mad for you. But then something happened. And now you’re gone. But don’t worry. I’ll find you. I just need to sift through the story of us to get to where you might be. I’ve got places to look and a list of names. The police have a list of names, too. See now? There’s another lie. There is only one person they’re really looking at, Molly. And that’s yours truly.

I know what I want. So when opportunity knocked, I took it. I grabbed my shot, willing to do anything to make it happen. From the beginning, I knew I was destined to be with the six-foot-four, bourbon-eyed Rock God. Only back in the early days, he wasn’t a god. Rhys Granger was my brother’s friend, the boy next door who wrote verses and played his guitar in our garage. He was talented. Exciting. Damaged. The kind of guy who made all the girls cry…. Except for me. I thought I was special. Turns out I’m not. And now…I despise him.