Authors: Ryan Michele
Ravage MC Series
Ravage Me (Ravage MC #1)
Seduce Me (Ravage MC #2)
Consume Me (Ravage MC #3)
Inflame Me (Ravage MC #4)
Captivate Me (Ravage Me #5)
Satisfy Me
Rattle Me
Ride with Me (A Hellions & Ravage MC Duel) by Chelsea Camaron & Ryan Michele
Ravage MC Box Set
Vipers Creed MC Series
Crossover (A Devils Due and Vipers Creed MC Prequel) Coming October 2017
Challenged (Vipers Creed #1)
Conquering (Vipers Creed#2)
3
rd
Book coming in 2017
Raber Wolf Pack Series
Raber Wolf Pack Book One
Raber Wolf Pack Book Two
Raber Wolf Pack Book Three
Raber Wolf Pack Box Set
Stand-alones
Needing to Fall
Safe
Wanting You
Blood & Loyalties
Challenged
(Vipers Creed MC#1) by Ryan Michele
©Ryan Michele 2016
Prologue
My head filled with a cloudy, dense fog that I couldn’t shake. Even with my eyes open, a filmy haze covered them, making everything blurry. Voices were muffled, as if I were under water, sinking. I thought I recognized one, but I couldn’t tell for sure.
Too hard to think.
I attempted to pull my arms up, but they were immediately halted by something. The hard, cold, heavy attachments clinked like metal. Even straining to move them, my muscles were so weak, so lethargic I couldn’t. I tried my legs, and the same thing happened.
A hard surface pressed against my back as the cool air of the room cascaded over my skin, my nipples, my stomach… Oh God, was I naked?
I opened my mouth, wanting to scream as deep panic set in. Unfortunately, nothing came out except air. Even that took more effort than I had in me.
Placing the pieces of the puzzle together, I couldn’t make heads or tails out of anything.
Heat at my side had me turning in that direction, only to see a fuzzy, black figure. I squinted then blinked, trying to get the focus to come back, but nothing. Not a damn thing.
“Hello, darlin’. Welcome to hell.”
Chapter One
Trix
A lump gathered in my throat settling like a rock, hard and brutal, sucking the wind out of me. My hand slightly twitched as I dialed the number I never in a million years thought I would call. I switched the phone to my other hand in an effort to shake out the trembling, because nervousness wasn’t an option. Trix Lamasters would not turn into some twit who couldn’t think straight over one phone call. Being a shrewd businesswoman, I’d learned from the best not to let shit get to me, how to compartmentalize things and deal.
I swallowed hard, moving the lump from my throat to settle into my gut like a boulder. As I focused, my breathing evened out. The thick steel in my spine could handle anything life threw at me, including this call. Including the man who would be on the other end of the line.
The green button stared back at me, my finger hovering over it. Then I pressed it and pulled the phone to my ear just as it started ringing.
One ring … two … three …
“What?” was barked through the phone line with a male’s voice tainted by harsh impatience.
“Can I talk to Cade? Shit.” I stopped myself. He wasn’t Cade anymore. I needed to remember that a lot had changed. “I mean, Spook. Is Spook around?”
Silence.
“Hello?” I pulled the phone away from my ear, looking at the bright screen, making sure the call hadn’t dropped. Nope, the little numbers in the corner were still counting away. I pressed it back to my ear, waiting a few beats.
“Who wants to fucking know?” His tone turned gruffer, almost as if he were a protective watch dog of Cade’s, and nothing or no one got past him.
Watch dog or not, I wasn’t about to get eaten.
“This is Trix Lamasters. I need to speak to him.”
More silence, not even a breath or noise in the background.
“Hello?”
His voice came over the line right as I intended to speak again. “Stop fucking saying hello. I’m here.”
Hell, maybe someone pissed in his Wheaties this morning, his attitude having nothing to do with me. Or maybe it was just him.
I slapped my hand to my forehead as the word
dumbass
rang in my mind.
“Sorry, I thought the call dropped.” Now I apologized to the rude man?
Get a grip, Trix.
“What do you need with Spook?” The guard dog didn’t give me an inch. Nevertheless, he didn’t need to know my business.
I needed a diversion.
“Can you just get a message to him to call me?”
“Babe, either tell me what you need, or nothing fuckin’ gets to him.” His tone turned flat and resolute.
“Fuck,” I muttered then heard him chuckle. The damn man needed a bone before he played. Asshole. “An employee of mine has been seen at your clubhouse. I need to talk to her.”
“Call her,” he quipped.
“She doesn’t have a phone,” I retorted, feeling the fire burn in my veins.
“Not my problem,” the man sneered. From his attitude, I knew he would have no problem hanging up on me right now, never telling Cade I needed to talk to him. Good thing I dealt with assholes on a regular basis.
“Look, the bitch owes me money.” Anger raced through my body. I let it be heard through each clipped word.
He let out a deep laugh that was almost intriguing if he weren’t a jerk. “You may as well kiss that cash good-bye.”
My pride had other ideas.
“Fuck no. I want what’s owed to me.” I sighed, needing a different tactic. “Look, can you just give Spook my name?” He would either call or he wouldn’t, but maybe that would get the dog to want to nose around. Maybe curiosity would get him to spread my name at least.
“This is gonna be fun. Hang on.” The man must have covered the mouthpiece with his hand, because everything he said was muffled except for him calling Spook’s name. That, I could hear clearly. My adrenaline spiked at the thought of Cade coming on the line.
“Yeah?” a voice I recognized from my dreams said into the phone. The deep, raspy tenor had grown over time and slithered down my spine all the way to my knees, giving them a slight tremble. It took only one word to make my stomach flip.
Fuck, I knew this was a bad idea, but
I wasn’t that girl anymore. He would not have power over me. I wouldn’t allow it.
I paced my small living room, needing the movement to get my knees back in line.
“Cade? It’s Trix Lamasters.”
“First, the name’s Spook. Second, who?”
That one kind of stung. Alright, more than stung. It tore another hole in my already battered heart was more like it. The asshole didn’t even remember me, but what did I expect, being one in a sea of many? There was absolutely no reason I would have stood out to him.
“We went to school together,” I tried.
Silence.
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling, hoping divine intervention would give me the gift of patience or a gun. Neither came.
“Whatever. I get you don’t remember me, but you have one of my employees there. I need to talk to her. She owes me money, and I need it back.”
“Trixie Lamasters.” I could hear the devilish grin as his words snaked over the phone. Not going to lie, my pussy quivered.
No one called me Trixie anymore, because once upon a time, he did and I had loved it. After he abruptly left my life, taking the one thing I could never get back, I refused to let anyone call me by that name. Never again would I allow the hollow feeling that name represented to seep through me. Now, hearing him after fifteen years, the vault of memories opened wide, something I did not want to happen. I didn’t want to feel, yet each recollection of the past bombarded my mind.
“Long time.”
I paused mid-step as a flash of younger Cade hit me. Shaking my head clear, I continued to pace through my living room.
“Yeah, very long. Anyway, you have a woman there by the name of Nanette King. Can you hand her over to me?”
I wouldn’t let the smoothness of his voice draw me in like it had all those years ago, reducing me to a pile of teenaged mush.
Strictly business
, I told myself, because business I could handle.
“How do you know she’s here?”
“I had her followed, and it led to you.”
I guessed he didn’t like the fact that I had found her that way, judging from the muttered curses that followed. Each word made me smile. I had a payroll of people who worked for me now, and some little twit-fart would not run off with my money. That wasn’t how I operated my business.
Nanette had fallen off the radar. Cade’s club happened to be the last place she was seen; therefore, I had to call him. I may as well have strapped zip-ties around my wrists, locking them in place.
“First, if she’s at the club, there’s a reason. Second, bitches here don’t go by their real names, so I don’t know if she’s around, because I don’t know a Nanette. Third, you come to the clubhouse, and we’ll talk.”
Business was business, but my heart spiked at the thought of seeing him again.
Cade’s club, Vipers Creed MC, had been in Dyersburg for years. Even before I came into this world, their presence had been well known. This town had tales, but these days, the Vipers were mostly known for Creed’s Automotive where they made custom bikes and cars in their own little world located on the outskirts of town.
I’d hoped to avoid a meeting since I couldn’t see any point to it. I wasn’t in the mood for a high school reunion. The past needed to stay there, locked up tight.
“I’ll describe her to you. Tell me if she’s there, and I’ll send someone over to get her,” I declared, trying to veer him from this path.
Negotiations were something I excelled at. There had to be an arrangement that suited us both, one we could manage over the phone. It would be the best course of action. The less contact I had with him, the better. I could have Ike, one of the bouncers at Sirens, pick her up. Win-win all around.
He chuckled, and my body went on alert because of the slyness in it.
“Babe, you don’t get how this works. You want something from me that I have, bring your ass here, and we’ll discuss it. Tomorrow night, seven.” Silence.
This time when I looked at the screen, the number fifty-seven blinked rapidly. He’d hung up on me.
“That arrogant piece of shit!” I growled, tossing my phone to the couch where it bounced on the cushion.
I should have known he’d still be a dick. Some things never changed. Guess I was going to meet up with Cade after all.
I completely ignored the slight tremor that thought caused.
Read more in Challenged (Vipers Creed#1) by Ryan Michele.
Crossover
(Devil’s Due MC and Vipers Creed MC Prequel)
written by
Chelsea Camaron and Ryan Michele
Copyright © Chelsea Camaron and Ryan Michele 2016
All Rights Reserved. This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction in whole or in part, without express written permission from Chelsea Camaron and Ryan Michele.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All sexually active characters portrayed in this book are eighteen years of age or older. Please do not buy if strong sexual situations, violence, domestic abuse, and explicit language offends you.
This is not meant to be an exact depiction of life in a motorcycle club, but rather a work of fiction meant to entertain.
Dear Reader,
This book is written to tie two separate motorcycle club series together. Both stories have been written as prequels to the respective series. Therefore, it is
not
necessary to read any books prior to this one.
For those of you who have read the first books in each series, please keep in mind the timeline for each story within this book falls
before
those books occur. These stories are merely given to enhance the character development and bring the two worlds together. We hope you get to know each of these bad boys a little bit better by the end of this.
We hope you enjoy this crossover as we bring a club of nomad bikers into the territory of an established club as their paths come together.
With love and appreciation,
Chelsea Camaron and Ryan Michele
Two motorcycle clubs, two different reasons for being, and one lifestyle find each other together.
– Devil’s Due MC –
Respect is earned, never freely given.
Our road is a path for justice. Nomads always on the open highway, we follow the trail, no matter where it leads, everyone be damned.
– Vipers Creed MC –
Respect is hard earned.
Live by the creed, die by the creed. If you aren’t with us, you’re against us. If you step into our world, your balls better be big and your cock even bigger.
Brothers, bikes, and bitches collide. Respect is everything.
When two clubs cross over into each other’s worlds, only madness, mayhem, vengeance, and heat can possibly ensue.
Crossover
Devil’s Due MC
Written by Chelsea Camaron
Chapter One
~Dover~
Tennessee, home motherfucking home. There’s not a damn thing sweet here for me. In fact, I need to stay under the radar while we are here in the first damn place. The pit stop in my hometown is for Rowdy. Every year on his release date, we give him the opportunity to go give the middle finger to the place that took more than his freedom away from him.
The Volunteer State
, humph
. There is nothing about this town, this state, or the history I have here that has me ready to volunteer for a damn thing other than to get the hell out of Dodge.