Q) Is your book part of a series? If so, can you tell us about it?
Yes, Cinder is book 5 in the Devil’s Boneyard MC series. It can be read as a stand-alone, but there are a lot of characters from previous books so you might enjoy them best if read in order. Cinder is the President of the club, and he’s adamant that he doesn’t want a steady woman in his life and never wants kids. So much so that he runs off the woman who’s fallen in love with him. He doesn’t realize she’s important to him until it’s too late.
Q) What was the hardest or easiest scene to write?
There’s a scene toward the end of the book where Cinder is willing to do anything to save Meg, even if it means he doesn’t make it out alive. It was a very emotional scene to write and I had to do it a little at a time. I’d write for a few minutes, then have to take a break for about 10 minutes and come back to knock out another few paragraphs.
Q) Where do you get your information or ideas for your books?
The stories themselves just sort of come to me, usually when I’m half-awake – either trying to fall asleep or attempting to convince myself I need to get up. I never get the entire story at once, but tend to get a piece here and there. I might get an idea for what I feel would make a great opening scene, and the rest comes to me as I go along. As for information, before I even started my first MC series (Dixie Reapers MC), I researched the AMA (American Motorcyclist Association) and what they defined as an outlaw club, then I researched some more. While none of my family were ever part of a club (that I’m aware), I do have a lot of enthusiasts in the family. The rumble of a Harley coming down the road is the quickest way for me to get whiplash as I try to find it because I really love that sound.
Q) Do you write in a linear fashion or do you jump from scene to scene and then go back and “fill in the blanks”?
Because I’m a pantser and not a plotter, I have to write in a linear fashion. I’ve tried skipping around before, but I’ve found if I do that, then a lot of those scenes aren’t usable later. And if there’s one thing I hate, it’s wasted words. Since I don’t necessary know what happens two chapters away, it’s hard to write those scenes ahead of time. If I have a vague idea of what happens coming up, or maybe even part of a scene already in my mind, then I push through from my current location in my WIP until I’ve written that scene. Sometimes that means I write as much as 15,000 words in a day.
Q) What are your upcoming projects?
After Cinder, I’ll be visiting the Dixie Reapers series again. Flicker will release in May 2019. For those who haven’t read the series yet, Flicker is the treasurer and he’s the one guy who has wanted to settle down for so long, yet never seems to find the right woman. He finally finds his perfect match in the most unlikely of places. I will also be kicking off a new series this year, a group we’ve actually seen in both Devil’s Boneyard and Dixie Reapers --- Hades Abyss will be coming to Changeling Press in 2019!
ABOUT THE BOOK
She’s an angel and I’m a Devil. There’s no place for us in this world, and yet I still want her.
Meg -- For ten years I suffered at the hands of a monster, bought at auction and forced to be a slave, at the whim of a Colombian drug lord who also ran underground fights. Then the Devil’s Boneyard came to rescue one of their own and I was free. I don’t know who I am anymore, or what my purpose is. I only know one thing. Cinder, the President of Devil’s Boneyard, makes me feel safe and that’s something I haven’t felt in forever. But one kiss and I’m seeing him in a new light, and I know that one kiss will never be enough.
Cinder -- Meg’s a sweet girl, a little angel who tends to sing and distract me as she cleans my house. I never said she had to pay for her keep around here, but she insists. She’s easily thirty years my junior, which makes me feel like a sick fuck every time I get hard around her, especially after all she’s suffered. Then I royally fucked up and kissed her. Now that I’ve had a taste, I want more, even though I know we’re doomed. A threat to my club, and to Meg, has her under my roof 24/7 and I have no idea how I’ll keep myself from giving into temptation. Whoever leaked her information to The Inferno is going to pay in blood. Even if I haven’t claimed her, Meg is mine, and I always protect what’s mine.
WARNING: Scorching hot sex, a club President who isn’t afraid to inflict some violence on his enemies, and a woman who discovers she’s stronger than she thought. Please be advised there are mentions of physical and sexual abuse, as well as human trafficking of teens, even though nothing is described in detail.
CINDER is available from Changeling Press today (April 5th) and from online retailers on April 12th!
Changeling Press – https://www.changelingpress.com/cinder-devil-s-boneyard-mc-5-b-2852
Amazon (Universal Link): http://mybook.to/CinderDevilsBoneyard
B&N Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1131033474?ean=2940161481592
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/cinder-22
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/cinder/id1457890490?ls=1&mt=11
That damn woman was singing again.
How the fuck was I supposed to concentrate on club business when she was
sashaying all over the damn house belting out whatever song she’d last heard on
the radio? All the women from Colombia were re-homed and off living their
lives. Then there was Meg. Damn woman refused to leave the compound unless I
sent two men with her. She was constantly jumping at shadows, and doing things
like organizing my fucking closet by item type and color. Who the fuck did that
shit?
When she started the song over, I
growled and threw my pen across the room, watching it bounce off the wall and
clatter to the floor. No matter how damn annoying I found it, I couldn’t very
well go down there and growl at her. I’d tried it once and she’d promptly burst
into tears before running from my house. Then I’d felt like an asshole for
scaring her. I didn’t know what to do with her. The men gave her a wide berth
most of the time, unless she needed something. They were all there in an instant
if they thought Meg was having trouble, or needed protection.
She was always cooking for someone
or other, cleaning my fucking house, doing my laundry. Hell, she even bought my
groceries. I should be thrilled I didn’t have to handle any of that crap
anymore, and I might have been, if the woman didn’t make me hard all the damn
time. Even now, with her singing the same thing over and over, I was hard as a
fucking steel post. I was staring sixty in the eye and Meg couldn’t be more than
twenty-five or twenty-six. Young enough to be my daughter, damn near young
enough to be my granddaughter. Made me feel like a sick fuck, even though the
age difference didn’t seem to bother my VP. He was more than twenty years older
than his wife, Clarity, and I’d never seen two people so in love. Except maybe
Havoc and that psycho woman of his.
When I’d reached forty and hadn’t
found a woman, I’d decided that family shit just wasn’t for me. I hadn’t even
touched the club sluts, not in a long ass time. It had gotten too fucking
complicated when I discovered some of them were trying to get pregnant on
purpose to trap me and the others in my club. After that, I went on dates here
and there with older women in surrounding towns. I hadn’t scratched that itch in
probably six months, which might explain why Meg was getting a rise out of my
dick all the damn time. Or maybe it was just how sweetly she was curved. I had
no doubt she’d be a nice handful if I had her in my bed.
My eye twitched when Meg started
her damn song yet again. It wasn’t that the song was annoying so much as it
pissed me off that my dick seemed to like her voice a little too much. I
unfastened my pants, knowing there was only one way to fix this shit, at least
for an hour or two. I pulled open the desk drawer and grabbed the bottle of
lube and dragged the box of tissue closer. After squirting a liberal amount of
the liquid on my palm, I wrapped my hand around my shaft and started stroking.
My eyes slammed shut as her voice carried through the closed door, and I imagined
the sounds she’d make as I pounded into her. It only took a few strokes after
that for my cum to cover my hand and hit the desk. I groaned as my dick
twitched, but didn’t completely deflate.
After cleaning myself and the desk
up, I tossed the tissues into the trash and shoved my chair back. I rose to my
feet, fastened my pants, and decided enough was enough. The way she was affecting
me today, I knew I’d be hard again within an hour, and I had too much shit to
do to keep jerking off. I went through the house to the kitchen, where she’d
dumped the laundry all over the table and seemed to be matching socks. Her hips
swayed back and forth as she belted out the lyrics to whatever pop song was
stuck in her head this time.
“Is all that fucking racket really necessary?”
I asked, my tone a bit harsher than I’d intended.
She gasped, her hand at her throat,
as she spun to face me. Her wide, frightened eyes made me feel like a complete
shit, but I could only handle so much. I needed her gone. Not just from my house,
but from the compound. I just hadn’t figured out how to make that happen yet. I
couldn’t exactly toss her out without anywhere to go or a way to take care of
herself. I wasn’t that big a monster, but she was too fucking tempting.
“I can’t work with you singing at
the top of your lungs,” I said. “I need to get the week’s numbers to Shade by
end of the day so he can pay everyone, and it requires concentration.”
“I’m s-sorry, Cinder. I didn’t mean
to keep you from working.” She glanced at the table full of laundry. “I can
come back and finish this later. I was going to make lasagna for dinner with
garlic bread, and I can always fold this stuff while it’s cooking.”
I ran a hand down my face, not sure
how to make this clear to her without making her cry. “Meg, I appreciate you
helping around here, and that you seem hell bent on fattening me up, but I’m a
grown ass man and can take care of myself.”
“Right,” she said softly, her hands
wringing in front of her. “I’ll just go then. Sorry about the mess.”
She couldn’t quite hide the flash
of pain in her eyes before she hurried out of the kitchen. A moment later, I
heard the front door shut. I stared at the pile of laundry and wondered how
asking for some quiet in my own fucking house could make me feel like such a bad
man. It wasn’t like she was my fucking wife. I’d given her a place to stay, but
it seemed she was always under my damn feet.
I went over to the table and swept
the laundry back into the basket, then carried it to my room and dropped it on
the bed. I’d fold the shit later and put it away. I couldn’t help but notice
she’d made the damn bed already, with military precision at that. She’d been a
quick study of how I liked to keep things, and made sure everything was
perfect. Too perfect if my closet was anything to go by. I had to wonder if she
wasn’t a bit OCD.
Now that there was peace in the
house, I could focus on the fucking reports and make sure my men were all paid.
We’d sold a truck full of guns and ammo to some ex-military men I knew who had
become vigilantes. Since they didn’t harm innocents, I didn’t mind doing business
with them. Even the drugs we sold never made it into the hands of kids. I made
damn sure of that. Anyone who bought from us knew better than to pull that
shit, or they’d end up with a bullet between their eyes. These days we only
dealt in pot, but I didn’t want to hear about some fifteen-year-old getting
high off the stuff we grew and killing themselves or someone else.
I’d scaled back quite a bit on our
illegal dealings, for the most part. We still had the chop shop and had opened
a second one outside of town. The marijuana pulled in a small profit, and the
guns were a nice bonus. When Scratch had discovered his daughter was alive, and
he was going to be a grandpa, I’d pulled back from the heavier stuff. Didn’t
want any of that blowing back on my VP’s family. Shade had said he could invest
some of the club funds and double our profits, so I’d given him a few hundred
grand to play with. Now he was investing over half a million on a monthly basis
thanks to the nest egg those initial profits had brought in.
We’d never be completely legit, and
I was fine with that, but I also didn’t want the law breathing down our necks
and chance any of the men with families getting locked up. It was my job to
protect everyone in the Devil’s Boneyard, down to the smallest kid. If that
meant fewer illegal dealings, then so be it. I still took the odd job from the
government as well, but the older I got, the less they called on me. Couldn’t
blame them. I was still sharp, still had perfect vision, but I was getting old
compared to the eighteen-year-olds they were recruiting.
I’d just finished the week’s
numbers and stuffed everything in a folder for Shade when my doorbell rang. I
rubbed my eyes and hoped like hell Meg wasn’t on my doorstep. I needed to get
laid, and soon, if I was going to keep having her underfoot. I shoved my chair
back and went to see who the fuck was bothering me. When I jerked open the door
I saw Jordan with her two-year-old daughter, Lanie.
“Jordan, everything okay?” I asked.
She glared at me, her lips a thin
line of displeasure and her eyes snapping with fire. I didn’t know who had
pissed her off, but I had a feeling my afternoon just became incredibly busy.
She was perfect for Havoc, but a general pain in my ass.
“Meg is crying and packing her
shit,” Jordan said.
My heart stuttered in my chest.
“What do you mean she’s packing? To go where?”
“She doesn’t know and apparently
doesn’t care. You. Made. Her. Cry.”
Fuck. I hadn’t meant to drive Meg
away completely, just out of my fucking house. Life was so much easier when I
only had to deal with club sluts at the clubhouse. Adding women to the family
just complicated shit and added drama I didn’t need.
“I never told her she had to leave
the compound,” I said.
“No, just your damn house.” I heard
Jordan’s jaw crack she was so damn angry. “If you don’t fix this shit, I’m
going to leave Lanie with you. For an entire week.”
The demon spawn in her arms gave me
a grin that I wasn’t about to admit scared the shit out of me. I didn’t do
kids, especially not this kid. Loved
Havoc, and Jordan for the most part, but their kid was damn frightening. Anyone
else who spoke to me like this would have met my fist, but Jordan was a woman
and I wouldn’t lay a hand on her. Not to mention, if I upset her, then she’d
make it hell on Havoc, and the last thing I needed was my Sergeant at Arms
being pissed at the world because his wife was being a bitch, even though that
seemed to be Jordan’s default setting.
“I’ll go talk to Meg,” I said.
ABOUT HARLEY
When Harley is writing, her motto is
the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who
can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take
what they want, then you’ve come to the right place.
You can follow Harley on Amazon, Twitter, or Facebook. Get New Release notifications (for
US readers) by following Harley on BookBub!
Visit Harley’s website at harleywylde.com! 
Thank you! <3
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