Release Day: July 23
Tragedy cuts deep. Revenge burns deeper.
The blood of their enemies coats the leather of their cuts and a trail of bodies lie in their wake, but the Forsaken Motorcycle Club isn’t done yet. Carlo Mancuso still needs to pay for his sins. Nobody knows that more than Ian Buckley, the Treasurer for Forsaken.
Ian prefers his pleasure mixed with pain and he’s only ever at peace when he’s doling out justice. Convinced that he’s too unstable and sadistic to take an old lady, he keeps his trysts, like all of his relationships, brief and anonymous. But with his club at war, and the stakes being so personal, Ian’s feeling the events around him more deeply than he expects.
Mindy Mercer is the sweet daughter of Fort Bragg’s most respectable cop. At least that’s how the town sees her. Very few people know the Mindy who hides her tracks and battles her cravings by lying to everyone around her. She thinks she has control of her addiction until she suffers an attack that leaves her searching for a way out of her own personal hell.
Mindy has never been more desperately in need of a savior and Ian has never seen a more beautifully destroyed creature in his life. Their attraction is intense, but their damage is extreme. Some scars never heal, and some people never get better.
Love is never more painful than when it can kill you.
I shake my head. He turns his face toward mine and waits as though I haven’t answered him. Maybe he thinks I haven’t. I guess I’ve been silent too long because he squeezes my hand and continues to stare at me with searching eyes. I shake my head again and this time he sees it and nods his head in return. He drops my hand and climbs on his bike. He nudges the kickstand up and holds the bike upright. He has a helmet in his outstretched hand.
“Wear this, then climb on like I did and place your feet here,” he says and points to a cylindrical black peg that juts out of the bike. “Don’t drop your feet and let your body lean into the turns.”
He’s patient with me as I stand here and psych myself up. I’ve had maybe a fantasy or two about a sexy man on a motorcycle, but until Ian it was just that—a passing fantasy that went as quickly as it came.
With his pointer finger, he summons me forward and sets the helmet on the tank between his legs. His eyes aren’t kind exactly and they’re not dark and sexy. They’re something else that I’m desperate to place, but can’t. I close the distance between us and stand before him. Slowly, he reaches out and brushes a lock of hair from my face and tucks it behind my ear.
“Tell me where you’re at,” he says quietly. He tucks my hair behind my other ear as well. I let out a soft, unintentional sigh. I barely hear the question—or order rather—and instead have all my attention focused on his touch. Being able, and even wanting, to be touched is such a wonder. “Tell me I help.”
There’s such a vulnerability about him in this moment as his fingers lightly weave through my messy hair and he’s asking for reassurance. My breath halts in my lungs. I both loathe and love the sound of his plea. I didn’t even know he was capable of this. Ian is always so strong for me that I think I sometimes forget that he’s human.
“I need you.”
I can’t remember what had me picking up the first Bayonet Scars book but I admit I’m hooked. I need to know what happens. I’ve been waiting for this story for what feels like forever. Ian has been a mystery. The small bits and pieces we’ve gotten in the previous books only had me wanting to know more about him and his past. After Rev and Mindy’s attack, I couldn’t imagine what Emery had in store with the series.
Burn does not disappoint. I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough. I loved the softer side of Ian. The match between Mindy and Ian just works. Emery doesn’t deliver a pretty, all tied up romance with Burn. She packs in the emotions in this gritty, hard yet sweet MC romance that will leave the reader ready for the next book.
As a child, JC was fascinated by things that went bump in the night. As they say, some things never change. Now, as an adult, she divides her time between the sexy law men, mythical creatures, and kick-ass heroines that live inside her head and pursuing her bachelor’s degree in English. JC is a San Francisco Bay Area native, but has also called both Texas and Louisiana home. These days she rocks her flip flops year round in Northern California and can’t imagine a climate more beautiful.
JC writes adult, new adult, and young adult fiction. She dabbles in many different genres including science fiction, horror, chick lit, and murder mysteries, yet she is most enthralled by supernatural stories– and everything has at least a splash of romance.
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