Friday, 27 April 2018

Release Blitz for Clipped Wings by Betty Shreffler




Title: Clipped Wings
Series: Kings MC Romance #2
Author: Betty Shreffler
Genre: Standalone MC Romance
Release Date: April 27, 2018



Blurb

They call me the Devil’s assassin. It’s true. I have blood on my hands.
As the VP of the Serpents, my life is driven by loyalty, honor, brotherhood.
Until I see her.
Too young, too innocent. Mine to claim.

What I am, what I do, can never reach her. My dark secrets are scars I bear alone.
I’m torn between my duties and the woman I’ll die to protect.
Until...they try to take what’s mine.









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Excerpt

THE CLUBHOUSE IS buzzing with life tonight. Every member and their ol’ lady came out for the cage fight. No other MC members are allowed on a night like this. It’s in-house and exclusive. Keeps the outcome private and the bruised egos of the losers contained. I plan on bruising more than their egos. I want them carried out on a fucking stretcher.
These men aren’t my brothers. They don’t know loyalty, honor, or respect the patch and the brotherhood it stands for. They’re weak men. Men who get off on torturing and raping a woman who couldn’t defend herself against them. I don’t see them as equals. I’ll never see them as equals.
Through the church room is another set of double doors. This is where we have our fight cage and private bar. Wooden benches line two walls, the cage taking up the other two. Between the benches and the fight cage are high top and low top tables with bar stools and chairs. Every seat is filled and the liquor is pouring heavily. A few bucks make their rounds on who’s going to win the fight. It’s fun play for my brothers, but for me, tonight is about so much more.
Lighting dim, it makes the blood stains on the cage mat harder to see, but it’s there as a lingering memory of previous fights. Fights I’ve been a part of. Blood I’ve contributed myself. You don’t last in the Serpents as long as I have without shedding some.
Across the cage, between the bars, I can see Drake and Levi getting themselves worked up for the fight. A slap to the face, some words for courage, a shot glass thrown back. Next to me are Mercy, John, Tex and RJ, some of my closest brothers. Mercy slaps my bare back and hands me a shot.
“Fuck ‘em up.”
With the shot thrown back, I bob my head. Shirt in my hands, I pull it over my head and toss it on a chair. Reaching into my pocket, I retrieve the brass knuckles I brought. That’s an advantage with the cage fights—there are no rules.
Christian opens the cage door and dips his head, indicating Drake and Levi need to enter. Shirts off and in their jeans, they go into the cage, bouncing on the tips of their feet. They’re wired and ready, probably high on coke too. Another advantage for me. With intent steps, I flex my muscles and give Christian a hard stare as I enter the cage.
The door locks behind us and I measure my opponents. Levi is tall and gangly, has speed, but will easily be put off balance. Drake has muscles, a solid core, slightly shorter than I am, but he always steps before he punches. It’s been engrained in me to study the way every man I know fights, especially the ones closest to you.
Bloodshot eyes and their hyper energy are telltale signs they’re high. The corner of my mouth raises when the circling starts. They’ll come at me together at first, in hopes to overpower me, wear me down. Then once I’m tired, they’ll split up and go for individual attacks to give themselves breaks and ensure I remain exhausted. They’re dumb fucks if they think the fight will last that long.
They both charge and I slam into Levi. Hand to his throat, I ram him into the cage bars, knocking the wind out of him. Grip tight on his throat, I bring the brass knuckles down on his face. Blood spurts from his nose, then again from his busted lips.
“Fuuuck!” the word roars from my chest.
The cold steal slices across the lower left side of my back. Enraged, I turn on Drake and see him holding the bloody switchblade.
If blood is what they want, blood is what I’ll give them.
Fast hand to his wrist, I wrap my elbow around his arm and kick his leg out from under him. The blade drops and I flip him over slamming him to the ground. No hesitation, I snatch the blade and whip it across his cheek. Blood pours from the thin, neat cut. Flicking the blade into my other hand, I nail it into his thigh.
With the painkiller effects of the coke running through his system, he bellows from the wound, but still has a lot of fight. Seeing Levi come at me with a set of spiked knuckles, I get one brass-knuckled punch to Drake’s face before I duck and roll, dodging the swing of Levi’s arm.
Quick on my feet, I feel the warmth of my own blood running down my skin on the inside of my jeans. That’s gonna need stitches. I need to move fast before I lose too much blood. Drake pulls the blade from his thigh and limps to his feet, holding the bars of the cage.
Circling one another, the crowd is alive with energy, screaming and hollering inaudible words at us. They’re hungry for more.
Waving my fingers, I encourage their attack. Levi’s got good legs, so he comes at me first. With an uppercut of the brass knuckles, he lands on his back. One hard boot to his face and he’s lights out.
Drake circles me, blade in hand. With a fast swing, he grazes my arm, slicing it enough to make me bleed, but not enough to make me give a fuck. The fresh scent of copper fills my nostrils. Crimson red covers Drake’s face and stains his jeans. Watching his feet, he lunges again, and I grab his hand, lock onto it, turn inside his arm and elbow his face, breaking his nose. Pulling his hand backward, the blade drops. With one swift turn, I put brass to bone, knocking him on his ass.
I only stop when I see his eyelids. He’s out cold, and I heave a breath, controlling my fury before I murder him here in front of everyone. Rising to my feet, I pull the brass knuckles from my bloodied hand. The cage door opens for me, and I step out to hoots, hollers, pats on the back, and shots shoved into my hands. I down two for the pain.
All the faces are an adrenaline pumping blur until I see her—my Sparrow. Running to me, I enfold her in my arms, kissing her hard and fierce.


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Author Bio

Betty Shreffler is a bestselling author of paranormal romantic suspense and contemporary romance. She writes sexy and suspenseful stories with hot alphas and kickass heroines with twists you don’t expect. She also writes beautiful and sexy romances with tough women and their journeys at finding love. Betty is a mix of country, nerdy, sassy, sweet and a whole lot of sense of humor. She’s a fan of photography, reading, watching movies, hiking, traveling, drinking wine, and all things romantic. She lives with her amazing hubs and five fur babies. If she’s not writing or doing book events, then you can find her behind the lens of a camera, in the woods, or sipping wine behind a deliciously steamy book.


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