(Dixie Reapers MC)
Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense
Date Published: March 21, 2025
In the heart of the South lies the Dixie Reapers MC -- an unbreakable
brotherhood bound by loyalty and secrets. But when a fierce storm brews both
outside and within the club, all bets are off.
Kasen -- I’ve spent my life hiding in the shadow of my father, Tank,
the previous Sergeant-at-Arms for the Dixie Reapers. He’ll never
understand my crush on Tempest, the current SAA, so I’ve kept it to
myself. But until recently, I thought Tempest only saw me as a child. Now
that I know he wants me the way a man wants a woman, I have to decide if I
have what it takes to be his woman. Belonging to the Dixie Reapers’
Sergeant-at-Arms isn’t for the faint of heart.
Tempest -- I may be the Sergeant-at-Arms, but one pint-sized half-Hispanic
woman has me tied in knots. I shouldn’t want Kasen. She’s
off-limits -- one of Tank’s little princesses. Yet I can’t get
her off my mind. When she’s kidnapped, I feel the rage taking over.
They’ve dared to touch what’s mine, and now I’m going to
make them pay. Once I have Kasen back by my side, I’ll make sure
she’s never out of my sight again. I’m done hiding how I
feel.
Get ready for a tumultuous ride of love, loyalty, and fierce
retribution.
WARNING: Tempest is part of the Dixie Reapers MC series, but can be read as
a stand-alone. It’s intended for readers 18+ due to adult situations,
violence, and bad language. There’s no cliffhanger, no cheating, and a
guaranteed HEA!
Content Advisory: Adult Situations, Profanity
EXCERPT
The sight of Kasen sitting with an unknown man at the café across
the street made my blood boil. I gripped the handlebars of my Harley
Davidson Road King, knuckles turning white as I fought the urge to storm
over there.
Who the fuck was this guy? I watched them laughing and talking like old
friends. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to intervene, to protect
what was mine.
But Kasen wasn’t mine. Not really.
I inhaled sharply, trying to regain control. My fingers flexed, itching to
throttle something. Someone. The tension coiled in my muscles, ready to
spring into action at a moment’s notice.
My eyes narrowed as the stranger leaned in closer to Kasen. Too
close.
“Easy,” I muttered to myself, though the growl in my voice
betrayed my inner turmoil.
I had no claim on Tank’s daughter, no matter how much I wanted her.
How much I’d always wanted her, even when I shouldn’t have. But
seeing her with another man awakened a primal possessiveness I could barely
contain.
The roar of my bike’s engine would be so satisfying right now. A
warning. A challenge.
I resisted. Barely.
My gaze remained locked on Kasen, drinking in the sight of her. The curve
of her smile. The toss of her hair. Memorizing every detail as if it might
be the last time I saw her.
Because if I gave in to this rage, it just might be.
Kasen’s laughter rang out again, a melodic sound twisting something
deep in my gut. She leaned forward, gesturing animatedly as she spoke to the
stranger. Her eyes sparkled with mirth, her whole face lighting up in a way
I’d rarely seen.
“Damn it,” I muttered, my teeth grinding together. The sight of
her so carefree, so open with this unknown man, felt like a knife to the
ribs.
Who the hell was he? Some clean-cut pretty boy, by the looks of it. No
patches, no ink visible. Nothing like the MC life Kasen had grown up
around.
My mind raced, possibilities flashing through like gunfire. A boyfriend? A
date? Just a friend?
Each option stoked the fire of jealousy burning in my chest. I
shouldn’t care. Kasen wasn’t mine to claim. But logic had no
place in the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
“You’re off-limits,” I growled under my breath, though
whether I was talking to Kasen or myself, I couldn’t say.
“Tank’s daughter. A club princess. Untouchable.”
But God, how I wanted to touch her. To stake my claim. To show this
interloper and the whole damn world that Kasen belonged with me.
The rational part of my brain, buried deep beneath layers of possessive
fury, knew I needed to take a step back. She wasn’t mine. But watching
her laugh with another man felt like a betrayal of something I’d never
even had.
As Sergeant-at-Arms, it was my job to protect the club and its family.
Kasen was both. The urge to march over there, to drag her away from
potential danger, burned through my veins like wildfire.
I let out a soft growl, trying to reason with myself. This little prick
wasn’t a threat. Too damn soft. I could probably break the fucker with
one hand. I needed to keep my ass right where I was -- watching from a
distance.
The consequences of overstepping would be severe. Tank would have my head
if I made a scene over his little girl. And the club… well,
they’d start asking questions I wasn’t ready to answer.
I tore my gaze away from Kasen, trying to focus on anything else. The
café’s outdoor seating area bustled with life. Servers weaved
between tables, trays balanced precariously. Laughter and chatter filled the
air, a stark contrast to the tension coiled within me.
The street was no better. Cars crawled by in the mid-afternoon traffic.
Pedestrians hurried along the sidewalks, wrapped up in their own little
worlds.
All of it -- the noise, the movement, the life -- felt distant. Unreal. My
entire universe had narrowed to a single point: Kasen, seated just yards
away, completely oblivious to my presence.
My heart slammed against my ribs. I felt like a caged animal fighting for
release. I gritted my teeth so tight I thought my teeth might shatter. This
wasn’t me. I didn’t lose control, didn’t let emotions rule
my actions. But something about Kasen…
“Fuck,” I growled, low and guttural.
I shouldn’t care. She wasn’t mine, had never been mine. Just a
kid with a crush, off-limits in every way that mattered. But watching her
now, all grown up and laughing with some stranger, it felt like a sucker
punch to the gut.
My fingers twitched, aching to reach for a cigarette, anything to occupy my
hands and calm the storm raging inside me. But I couldn’t risk losing
sight of her, not even for a second.
Then it happened. Kasen leaned forward, her delicate hand brushing against
the man’s arm. It was casual, probably meaningless, but it sent a jolt
of electricity through my body. My vision tunneled, narrowing to that single
point of contact.
“Jesus Christ,” I hissed, my heart thundering so loud I was
sure the whole damn street could hear it.
The bike beneath me vibrated, responding to the tension in my body. I
forced myself to breathe, to loosen my death grip on the handlebars. But I
couldn’t tear my eyes away from Kasen, from the easy way she touched
that man.
It shouldn’t matter. It didn’t matter. But try telling that to
the green-eyed monster clawing its way up my throat.
My mind raced, weighing options. I could storm over there and show this
nobody who he was dealing with. But the consequences…
“Fuck,” I muttered.
Tank would rip me apart if he thought I was sniffing around Kasen. No one
dared touch his triplets. Hell, I hadn’t even been aware any of them
had been on date before. Did he know where his precious daughter was right
now? Who she was with? Would he approve of her being with someone like this
kid?
But the sight of her, laughing and carefree, made my blood boil. What if
this guy wasn’t what he seemed? What if Kasen was in danger? He
didn’t look like he had enough muscle to do much harm, but that
didn’t mean he wasn’t the brains behind some sinister
operation.
I flexed my fingers, fighting the urge to reach for the knife at my belt.
“Get it together,” I muttered to myself. “You’re the
Sergeant-at-Arms, not some lovestruck teenager.”
The title sat heavily on my shoulders. I had responsibilities, a duty to
the club that came before everything else. Even my own wants. Even
Kasen.
But as I watched her lean in closer once more to the stranger, something
primal roared to life inside me.
About the Author
Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC
Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde
immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible
women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still
managing to end on a satisfying note each time.
When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde's website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
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Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde
Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress
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