Aubrey Evans needs to get her life back on track after her father is indicted for embezzlement. All she has to do to hightail it out of small-town Tennessee is save up money for college tuition and steer clear of hard-muscled boys on motorcycles. Yet there's no ignoring someone like Zion. A knight in black leather, Zion looks like every bad idea she's been told to avoid, but she can't resist him. Whenever she's in trouble, he's there. Appealing as his rough exterior may be, it's the protective, principled man beneath who tempts her like crazy.
Zion knows Aubrey doesn't intend to stick around. She claims to want only friendship, but he senses there's a naughty girl hiding on the inside—one whose intense desires match his own. For now, he'll be patient and play by her rules. But he knows it's just a matter of time before he weakens her resolve.
As they join forces to figure out who's behind a local crime spree, it's clear that the danger goes deeper than Aubrey guessed. And when she needs someone tall, dark, and undaunted to keep her safe, Zion intends to be there—now and always.
He watched me, obviously waiting for something.
The best my drunken brain could offer was, “The Big Bad wolf eats Red.”
He paused, grinned, and patted the seat. “You’re too drunk for that too.”
I blinked at him. Then his words sunk in, and I gasped. I hadn’t meant that, but now that he planted the idea in my mind, I couldn’t speak.
“You’re safe with me,” he promised, and then he patted the tiny seat behind him.
I wanted to tell him that I didn’t want to be safe, not after he’d planted such forbidden images in my mind. I yanked my mind out of the gutter and climbed onto themotorcycle, wrapped my arms around his waist, and tried not to shiver. I shouldn’t like the way he talked, but I did. I liked the whole package: the rescue, the insinuations, the motorcycle.
Maybe alcohol and fumbled petting with Quincy just skewed my judgment so severely that Zion seemed more tempting than he actually was. I wasn’t sure. I also didn’t think it mattered. By tomorrow, I would be too sober to think about kisses or any of the other things he might be good at doing.
He pulled my arms tighter around him, holding my hands together on his very taut stomach. It was a little embarrassing that being on the back of his Harley was doing far more for my libido than all of Quincy’s—and every other man’s before him—effort.
“Hold on, Red.”
(On why ride motorcycles): Ha! I’m always baffled by this one. Riding is amazing. In four decades of life in which I’ve been on bikes, I’ve only ridden Harleys or Triumphs, so my answer is specific to those, not the other sort! The scenes where my characters are on a bike (which are in not only Undaunted and Unruly, but also in Graveminder and in my self-published book Unfiltered & Unlawful) are based on my own feelings.
There’s a freedom, an adrenaline rush, and a sliver of danger at being on a machine with that sort of speed and no real protection if you crash. There’s a connection between riders and machine that is greater than in a car (even a stick shift, which is what I prefer in cars). There’s a connection between driver and passenger on a bike. It’s like an intricate dance at times, but you are partnering with a man, a machine, and a road which hides threats. It’s one of the things I love most. (And, yes, there is a Harley in my garage.)
(Note: I received this promo info from Bookslapped. Was unable to find any official author profile. ~Punya)