Rocket is ON SALE now through Friday. Want the paperback with Rocket and Lemon's story? Come by my table at Rockin' Romance Readers to get your AUTOGRAPHED COPY and so much more.
DEALS AT THE TABLE!
All books (other than marked titles) are $15. Each purchase receives a special tote (while they last) as well as some exclusive stickers not available anywhere else.
Want a BUNDLE DEAL? Check these out!
3 books for $40
5 books for $65
10 books for $130
In the mean time, check out this EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT of Rocket...
Rockjet (Grim Road MC 1)
Marteeka Karland
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2024 Marteeka Karland
I was hard as a motherfucker. Lemon… That woman… That fucking woman…
Fuck!
I'd known for a long fucking time I was going to hell, but here was the proof. Lemon had gone toe to toe with Falcon, one of the fiercest men I knew, and hadn't backed down one fucking inch. Maybe she didn't know what a badass he was, but I honestly don't think she really cared. This was Lemon. Unfiltered and in your face. Had I not started feeling every single injury these assholes had dealt out to me, I'd have taken her over my knee and spanked her in front of God and everyone. Just to show she was mine. Then again, it might get my balls removed. Didn't matter. I loved living dangerously.
"Get on outta here, Rocket." Ringo, my enforcer, stepped into the house, looking the small space up and down, eyeballing the damage as he did. "I'll get a cleaning crew out here to take care of everything."
"I don't want so much as a fuckin' pebble that doesn't belong still here when this place is cleaned. Get Scrubb."
"On it, Prez." Ringo left to get started as I kicked the front tire of Falcon's downed bike.
"Should be fine."
Falcon glared at me, his face hard and a very unflattering shade of red under his beard. Lemon mumbled, but I still had my hand clamped over her mouth. When she stuck her tongue out and licked my hand, my first instinct was to pull away and wipe my hand down my jeans, but that was exactly what she wanted. Instead, I gave her a hard stare.
So she bit me.
"Goddamnit, Lemon!" I did jerk my hand away that time.
She stepped away from me, then turned and shoved me backward.
Falcon snorted. "Who the fuck cut her loose, anyway? She'll probably wreck the whole fuckin' club before she's done."
Lemon just shrugged, looking about as concerned as the cartoon kitten sitting on the bulldog's back. "I mean, it's possible. Seems like you guys need a good swift kick in the balls. What better way to do that than through your bikes."
Falcon actually growled and took a step forward, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "You're about two seconds from gettin' an ass whuppin', woman. Rocket won't do it, I got no fuckin' problem. Figure you owe me my pound of flesh for demolishing my bike."
"Sweet Baby Jesus in the manger," Lemon muttered. "I didn't demolish your fuckin' bike. It's fine. Might need a new wheel on the front or something's all. This club needs whippin' into shape, Rocket. Is it full of pussies or is it just this clown?"
"Lemon --"
"No, Rocket." She turned to face me, stabbing a finger in my chest none too gently. "They weren't coming after you. They were going back to their clubhouse to talk about it." She made air quotes. She looked back at Falcon and gave him a derisive snort. "So, yeah. I can see some changes need to be made."
"Go to the fuckin' truck, Lemon." I made a step, then barely suppressed a wince. I did clamp a hand over my side. Which is when my shoulder screamed at me. 'Cause, you know, I'd been shot. I still tried to ignore it because the only way Lemon would have me was if I was a strong man. Right now, she probably didn't see me as strong. At least, not in body.
"You go to the truck. You're the one who's shot!"
I saw it then. That vulnerability Lemon never showed anyone. The fact that I'd been shot bothered her more than she was willing to admit. Or, likely, than she wanted me to know.
"And you got kidnapped. And beaten," I countered.
"How about you both go to the fuckin' truck and let me get started on this fuckin' cleanup before the turn of the next fuckin' century.""Wow. Someone woke up cranky. Did you not get your full nap in?" I really thought Falcon was going to turn her over his knee. He actually took a threatening step forward, but Lemon didn't back down. Instead, she met his gaze with her own steely one and took her own step forward, tilting her head to the side. "Come on, then. Give it your best shot. You get one."
Get your copy here: https://books2read.com/RocketFB
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double life as a romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited, vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.
Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband with their gardening activities. They set aside the late summer season for preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts (which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it.) To stay updated with Marteeka's latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her website. Don't forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you with a potpourri of Teeka's beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.
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