Enticing Journey Book Promotions Presents: Rise Of The Phoenix by Jessie Cooke; #ReleaseBlitz, #NowAvailable, #OutNow, #TBR, #Live, #Review

Title: Rise of the Phoenix

Series: Phoenix Skulls MC - Book 1

Author: Jessie Cooke

Genre: MC Romance

Release Date: February 18, 2019
Rating:  4 Stars
#OneClick  #NewRelease  #riseofthephoenix #phoenixskullsmc #jessiecooke #KindleUnlimited #Amazon #BuyNow #MCRomance #RiseOfThePhoenixJessieCookeRelease #ejbookpromos

Disclosure of Material Connection:  I received this book for review from Enticing Journey Book Promotions and the author.  I was not compensated nor was I required to write a positive review.  The opinions I have expressed are my own.  I am posting this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255:  "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising".

Jace Bell, a nomad for the Skulls, and Beck Golden, his new old lady, moved to Phoenix with high hopes.

Jace had been handpicked to run the new chapter of the Skulls by the presidents of both the Westside and Southside chapters.

Wolf Lee and Dax Marshall made sure the club had the land to build on and the support they needed to move forward.

It all felt almost surreal to Jace who had moved his entire life from the East Coast to the West in order to take the job.

His life had never been easy and suddenly he had everything he'd ever dreamed of...but only for a fleeting moment.

When befriending an older Native American couple introduces the club to their twenty-two year old son, Tommy, bizarre things begin to happen.

At first Jace and Beck believe it's all a ploy by Tommy to get them off land Tommy believes they don't belong on.

But then bodies begin to turn up and Jace has to dig deeper, unearthing, along with the bodies, a twisted tale of murder, lies and family dysfunction that runs much more than skin deep.

The future of the club is up in the air and nobody knows where the killer will strike next.

Will Jace and Beck cave underneath all the pressure, or can this odd couple and their misfit crew rise from the ashes and begin again?

Book 1 in the Phoenix Skulls MC Series. 

This is a Standalone Romance Novel but characters from this story, will appear in future books in the series. 

HEA and No cliffhanger. 

Intended for Mature Readers.

* * *

The Phoenix Skulls MC Series is about members of the MC club, their friends and associates. 

Each story, while focused around one main character, is not necessarily about a Phoenix Skulls club member, but the story is related to Skulls members and the club.

It’s stated that this is a standalone but reading the first paragraph has me questioning, “What’s that about?” I know it appears to be a memory but I had to wonder if it starts in a previous book. It was like stepping into the middle of a conversation.

Jace Bell and Rebekah “Beck” Golden have both a warm and twisted welcome. That welcome is also ours – it’s at that point where you must decide if you’re going to see where this adventure is going to take you. The sad part is that they are already an established couple which puts that “what did I miss?” question back into my mind. That may seem disappointing but the mystery more than makes up for it.

Being the first in a series, there’s a lot going on here but I felt that it’s just setting the reader up for what is to follow. There are no real defined main characters because right now everyone is important. We’re seeing this new MC being established but there are things that keep getting in the way. The reader will see the heat between Jace and Beck as well as some sadness but it’s not enough to take your attention away from the underlying story. Why are certain things occurring and what is the point? You may be good at solving mysteries but me, not so much.

On the whole, this story did leave me wanting to see where the author was going to take this series. But from the beginning I felt like I was missing something. This book is more about the suspense than about an MC club. I’ve only read a couple of the author’s other books so I think that I need to work through some of her other Skulls MC romances to see if I can connect more with this new group. That may get put on the backburner as I follow the Phoenix Skulls but maybe I can fit a book in between.

Phoenix Skulls – Rise of the Phoenix

Chapter One

“Yazhi, where have you been? We closed up half an hour ago. Why do you have blood splattered on your hands?” Ajei was looking at the spots of blood that dotted her son's big, brown hands. When she looked back up at his face, he was looking down at them, with a look as surprised as hers had been.

He frowned and after a minute he said, “I hit a rabbit. It darted out in front of me. I didn't realize the blood had splashed up so far.” He was still frowning when he said, “I'm not going with you today, anyway. I thought I was clear about that.”

“Yazhi...”

“Mom, please! Stop talking to me like I'm a child! And stop calling me ‘Little One!’ I've been taller than you since I was thirteen. I'm a grown man, Mother, look at me. I'm twenty-two years old. I've told you and Father both that I'm not going to greet these bikers like they're welcome here.” She had the feeling his indignation was an effort to hide something else, but she wasn't sure what. He'd disappeared most of the afternoon and she wondered where he'd gone.

“Tommy,” she said, softening her voice even more. “We've talked about this so many times, and the tribal council has even tried to be reasonable with you. That land has not belonged to us for decades...almost one hundred years. They bought the land from a developer who bought it from the government. We can at least feel better about them being there, knowing this developer isn't going to put up a strip mall or something that will draw in a big residential crowd.”

“Nobody should put up anything on it. Ama Sani is probably wandering the hills at night, weeping.”

She sighed and reached out to touch him. He took a step back and gave her a defiant look. “Tommy, you know I loved your great-grandmother, but by the time you were old enough to know her, she no longer lived in the real world.” Tommy’s great-grandmother, Ajei’s grandmother, had Alzheimer’s. She was diagnosed right after Tommy’s birth but lived another twenty years. Tommy loved her dearly and he’d grown up hanging on her every word.

“She lived in our world. She was the only one who remembered how it was, and how it should still be.”

“Tommy...”

He threw his hands up and left the room. His mother sat and looked after him, sadly. She was still sitting there, lost in her thoughts about her son, when her husband Tse walked in. He knew as soon as he saw her that something was wrong.

“What’s wrong, My Heart?” My Heart was what her name meant in English and Tse meant Rock. The couple had called each other by their English names since they met as young adults. They had been together now for thirty-five years, since Ajei was seventeen and Rock eighteen. Tommy was a late-in-life child. The couple had been together and on the road traveling, Rock on the old Indian bike he wouldn’t give up, and Ajei on her Harley, for thirteen years by that time. Rock had modified her bike to make it possible. Ajei had been the one unsure of raising him that way, on the road around the kind of people they spent their time with. They had been involved in some things back then that as an old woman, Ajei wasn’t exactly proud of either. But, you do what you need to in order to survive. Old age had at least taught her that much.

Ultimately back then, however, she had given into her fears and her family’s pressure to leave him behind and let them raise him. Tommy lived with Ajei’s aunt Lena and her two children, who were quite a bit older than him. But their culture truly believed that it takes a village, so ultimately he was raised by a gaggle of relatives: cousins, aunts, uncles, great-grandparents...all wonderful, warm people who loved him…and Ajei and Rock were home as often as they could be. Ajei tried hard to bond with her son, but sometimes Tommy’s dark eyes seemed to seethe with anger or resentment when he looked at his parents. Rock always told her that she worried too much. Ajei hoped that now, since they were all together, they could finally begin to heal old wounds. But now she had to worry about how Tommy had attached himself to the old stories and legends his demented great-grandmother had told him as a boy, and it was leading him toward trouble.

“I’m just worried about our son,” she said, “and this idea that he’s doing something just for our people by not welcoming our new neighbors.” The idea of having a motorcycle club just to the north of where Ajei and Rock ran their small grocery and hardware store had thrilled them both at first. Rock was a nomad for a club out of Tempe for over twenty years and Ajei had ridden alongside him all that time. When they first met as teenagers, Rock drove an old Indian motorcycle he had bought and fixed up himself. Over the years he’d upgraded many times but he was never willing to trade in the Indian for a Harley. Ajei’s first motorcycle was a used Harley that they bought together after they eloped and Rock taught her how to ride. Tommy didn’t come along until thirteen years later and by that time Rock and Ajei were doing long runs for the club, and it was the only life they knew.

That was where Ajei feared, now, they had begun to make mistakes with Tommy, and she had prayed five years earlier that coming home at last would mend what was broken between them all for so long. The club in Tempe, the Tarantulas, had just run its course after almost fifty years in business. Most of the members were either too old to ride, or just tired, and when it broke up, Ajei and Rock came home to Phoenix for the last time. Rock’s uncle owned the little store and he was past ready to retire. Rock and Ajei bought him out and although that went well, Ajei’s hopes for bonding with her son were dashed by the fact that Tommy chose to go to college in California. They were separated by miles for another four years while he completed his degree. The day he graduated with honors was one of the proudest of Ajei’s life and when he chose to live at the store rather than go back with his aunt, it gave her hope that he was finally ready to try to get to know his parents and they him. But so far, that wasn’t going as planned either. He was so obsessed with the land and the old tall tales her grandmother told him. Tommy, in Ajei’s opinion, was a bright, wonderful boy, but in her mind, not yet a man.

“Give him some time,” Rock said. He always did his best to be impartial while giving his wife as much hope as possible. “He’ll see that they don’t mean us, or the land, any harm soon enough and come around. You know telling him things has never worked. Our boy has always been one that had to see things for himself.”

Ajei smiled at her husband. At fifty-three years old, he was still the handsomest man she knew. She was so glad that their son took after him. Rock stood over six foot tall and had broad shoulders and muscles that came mostly from riding that Indian motorcycle he loved so much. He wore his black hair short now, and sometimes Ajei missed the days when it used to touch his shoulders the way Tommy’s did now. His skin was the color of coffee just lightened slightly with milk and his eyes were as dark as his hair, but they shone when he laughed or smiled, which he did often. The crow’s feet around his eyes spoke to that, but Ajei loved them, just as she loved every other part of her handsome husband. “I’m sure you’re right. I can’t help but worry. He reminded me again today that he was a grown man.”

Rock chuckled and said, “And when he’s forty, we’ll both believe him. Until then, it might be easier to pretend. Are you ready to go? Our neighbors are expecting us.”

Ajei nodded and began to gather up the things she was taking to welcome their new neighbors. She and Rock lived in the “real” world, but that didn’t mean they had completely forgotten where they came from and the things they had learned as children. Ajei had weaved a blanket for each of the three newcomers and she had baked homemade bread and gathered two baskets of vegetables from her garden out back. She handed the basket to Rock as they locked up the store and headed for their bikes. Rock covered the basket with a cloth and strapped it onto the back of his Indian before helping Ajei batten down the heavy blankets she’d made. When they had the gifts ready, they both tied their bandannas over their hair and started up their bikes. Ajei looked up toward the window in the small apartment above the store where Tommy lived now. She saw him looking down at them, smiled, and waved. Tommy dropped the curtain and she felt a pain in her heart. Her one wish before the Holy People took her from the earth was that she and her son would come to understand each other.

********

The young bikers were expecting them, and came out to greet them when they drove in. They were living in the only house that had already been standing on the property they bought. It was built years before, by hand, by another idealistic young Navajo man. He’d squatted on the then government-owned property for years, claiming that it was his by “birthright.” Eventually he was forced off the land at the end of a dozen guns the government had sent to evict him. He left kicking and screaming, chanting crazy things, and he was locked up in a psychiatric facility in the city. Ajei never heard anything else about him after that, but she prayed almost daily that her son would never take his misguided mission so far that it drove him mad.

Rock and Ajei stopped their bikes and she slipped the bandanna off her long, gray hair before sliding off the Harley. Rock told her she was still as beautiful as the day he met her, but some days she was slightly envious of the way he seemed to age better than her. He still didn’t have a touch of gray in his hair, and in hers there was barely a touch left of the dark brown it used to be. Her crow’s feet weren’t as “distinguished” as his, in her mind anyway, and her high cheekbones seemed to get lower every time she looked in the mirror and watched as gravity took possession of her skin. But she tried not to dwell too much on aging. If the truth be told, had she died that very moment, the only regrets she had would be the ones she had about her relationship with Tommy.

The couple came toward them. The man was big, taller than Rock and slightly broader in the arms and chest. His eyes were dark and his face scarred. Ajei noticed the thick scar just above his collar right away and she felt a chill run through her as she felt his suffering. Ajei didn’t fancy herself as a psychic or seer, or whatever people were calling it these days. She’d just always thought of herself as an empath; she deeply felt the pain of others sometimes.

The big man had his arm around a woman, whose light blue eyes were the crowning glory of her beautiful face. Wild blonde curls framed her delicate face, but those eyes, and the lean muscles in her arms and legs that rippled as she walked in her boots, told a story that her pretty face might otherwise hide. “I’m Rock, and this is My Heart,” Ajei’s husband said. “Welcome to Phoenix. We’re looking forward to having you as our new neighbors.” The big man shook Rock’s hand and said:

“Thank you. I’m Jace and this is Rebekah.”

“Beck,” the pretty woman said, offering her hand to Ajei.

“And you don’t have to call me My Heart,” Ajei said with a smile. “I’m Ajei and it’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

“Please, come inside,” Beck offered. Ajei and Rock gathered their gifts and followed Beck and Jace inside the little house. They’d only been there for a week, but it already had a warm, comfortable feel to it. Ajei told them so and Beck laughed and said, “I grew up in Phoenix. My mother and grandmother still live about twenty miles from here. They came and decorated the house before we even got here last week. Probably because they knew I’d just toss down some sleeping bags and eat takeout if it was up to me. Please, have a seat.”

The four of them sat and Rock presented them with the gifts they’d brought. Jace and Beck both seemed genuinely grateful, and Beck seemed particularly happy with the blankets. She set the third one aside and said, “Finn is out right now but when he gets back I’ll make sure he gets that.”

“Finn,” Ajei said. “That’s an interesting name.”

“He’s Irish,” Beck told her. “He’s only been in the US for about a year. He’s young and he has a lot to learn, but I think he’s a good kid, at heart.” Ajei could see in Beck’s eyes that she still had questions about the young Irishman. It wasn’t her business however, so she moved on.

“Our son is the same,” she said. “I wish he could have come with us today. He keeps himself busy with his projects. He just recently graduated from college and hasn’t found a permanent job yet, but he never stops doing his own research.”

“What kind of research does he do?” Beck asked.

“He’s got a degree in environmental services,” Rock answered. “He’s interested in anything to do with the land and the indigenous plants and animals. Sometimes I think he should have gone for a degree in Native American studies instead. He has a lot of interest in our culture and history.” Ajei smiled. Her husband explained their son’s “obsession” much more diplomatically than she could. She opened her mouth to ask Beck if they had any children but was interrupted by the sound of a man’s voice, calling out for Jace. It was coming from outside, around the back of the house. The four of them jumped up and Ajei saw Rebekah grab a gun off the top of the refrigerator as they ran outside. Jace stopped first and Beck nearly ran into him before she came to a dead stop as well. Rock stood on the other side of Jace, looking at what had stopped them all in their tracks. Ajei saw it, and the young, heavily tattooed man with the long hair standing next to it, and then she turned to look at her husband. Rock wasn’t looking at her. Maybe that was good. Maybe if he looked at her she wouldn’t be able to hide the fear in her eyes or the fact that her heart was slamming into her rib cage. She sucked in a shaky breath and looked back in the direction the rest of them were still staring in.

“What the fuck is that?” Beck said, appalled, with good reason.

No one said anything for a long time. Rock still wouldn’t look at his wife. They all stared at the big tan-and-white jackrabbit...or what was left of him. It was simply a carcass, without a head, and the four feet had been nailed to a post behind the house. Written in what looked like blood above it were the words, “Go Away!”

Ajei couldn’t see anything inside of her head at that moment other than the bloody fingers of her son. She was looking down at her own hands and she felt like she could see blood on them too. Rock finally glanced over at her and when she felt his eyes on her face, she looked up. She could see the worry pouring out of his dark eyes. She wanted to deny that her son did this. She couldn’t imagine Tommy killing any animal just for sport, much less mutilating it. But sadly, she had to admit if only to herself that since he’d come home from college, it seemed there were a lot of things about her son she didn’t know. She opened her mouth, ready to tell their new neighbors that she might know who did this and that she would take care of it, when Beck, clutching her gun tightly at her side and speaking through clenched teeth, said, “When I finish with the motherfucker who did this, that rabbit’s going to look like the lucky one.”

Jessie Cooke writes hot romance novels about tough guys, bad boys, bikers, fighters and lovers and the women of strong character who tame them.

HOSTED BY:

Enticing Journey Book Promotions Presents: Garrett by Jessie Cooke; #ReleaseTour, #ReleaseBlitz, #NowAvailable, #OutNow, #Live

Title: Garrett

Series: Southside Skulls Motorcycle Club

Author: Jessie Cooke

Genre: MC Romance

Release Date: January 15, 2018 
#MCRomance #KindleUnlimited 
#GarrettReleaseTour #SouthsideSkullsMC

Garrett “Bear” Banks, has the stealth of a sniper and the strength of a viper. but the bad things he’s done, have taken their toll, and now… a life changing decision will free him from his demons.

What he hasn’t planned on, is a woman getting in the way.

Paige is ready to put her demons to rest, when a giant of a man appears just at the wrong time to make the right decision.

Two tortured people standing at the same place in life, at the start of a journey that will change both of their lives, and those they love…forever.

This is the 8th book in the Southside Skulls MC Series. It is a Standalone Romance Novel but characters from the previous novels, DAX, CODY, GUNNER, ZACK, LEVI, KAT & HUNTER are included in this story too.

The Southside Skulls MC Series is about members of the MC club, their associates, and friends.

Each story, while focused around one or more main characters, is not necessarily about a Southside Skulls club member, but the story is related to Skulls members and the club.

HEA and No cliffhanger.   Intended for Mature Readers.

“Winter wonderland, my ass,” Garrett said aloud as he trudged up the hill, dressed in white from his head to his toes. He blended easily with the fresh snow, so he should really be happier about it, but cold just wasn’t his thing. It wasn’t that Vegas couldn’t get cold in the winter. Those desert storms could make a man’s balls feel like frozen meatballs. But it was still not the same as winter in Massachusetts. He was anxious to finish this job for Dax and get back home. He’d been in the middle of wrapping up his business when Dax called.

Garrett had five sealed letters in the saddlebags of his bike, but for some reason he’d been carrying the sixth one around in his pocket. Maybe it was because that was the most important one. That was the one that explained to his little girl why she would be better off in a world where he didn’t exist. One last kill…one more sin to add to the list of many, and then he’d be ready to stand up and answer for them all, in front of his maker. If his mother was right with the stories she told him when he was little, and there was a set of pearly gates and a little man named Joseph who sent you up the escalator or down into the heat, he knew where he was going, and it was good that he’d rather be warm. His life hadn’t been all bad, and his sweet little Jessie was proof of that, but he had done unspeakable things and answering for them was the only part of dying that worried him.

Right now, though, he needed to put that on the back burner and concentrate on the task at hand. He kept walking, climbing steadily, and each one of his steps left an indentation in the virgin white powder that covered the earth. He was a big man, weighing in at 310 pounds the last time he checked. That number might be worrisome if he weren’t six-foot-six and the weight weren’t evenly distributed and almost solid muscle. Of course, even if it were fat, it wouldn’t matter now.  

The higher Garrett climbed, the more frigid the air became. His face was covered with a white knit ski mask, but the skin around his eyes stung from the ice that was clinging to his bottom lashes. He should be wearing his goggles, but he hated walking around in them. He’d put them on when he reached his rendezvous point. His thick, white leather gloves were heated at least, and they felt fucking fabulous. His hands were the most important tool he had besides his rifle, so he had to take care of them, but the rest of his body was fucking freezing. The thick, white coveralls he was wearing were saturated with the wet, falling snow and if he thought he was ever going to need it again, he might have worried that his dick would freeze solid and crack right off.

He pushed on. He’d worked in a lot of worse places under a lot of worse conditions. He slowly maneuvered a path that was littered with hidden bushes, stumps, and rocks, but by now he knew where every one of them was at even though the snow had blanketed them all during the night. The branches of the trees that were still visible hung heavily toward the ground, the icicles tugging at them and dangling perilously close to Garrett’s head at times. He walked the obstacle course in snow up to his knees, and it took twice as long as it would have taken in clear weather. It was easy to see why Dax hadn’t tried to take on this job himself, and despite putting his own urgent business aside to do it, Garrett didn’t really mind. This was the one thing in his life that he’d been good at. He was sure it wouldn’t be the thing that got him into heaven, but once he took his own life, that probably wasn’t going to be an option anyways.

When he finally scaled the top of the snowy ridge, he dropped the heavy rifle that had been slung over his shoulder and the backpack he carried, down into the snow, and let his heavy body fall beside them. He lay there in the snow for several minutes, creating a snow angel the size of a dragon before he finally sat up and grabbed his water bottle. As he drank, he looked in the direction of the curling smoke. He couldn’t see the cabin with his naked eye, but he’d already scoped the place out, and he knew Josiah Miller’s routines.

He reached over and unzipped the protective case the rifle was sheathed in. He pulled it out and began his safety checks. The rifle was like an old friend to him. It had taken countless lives…but it had saved countless more. He worked as part of a team in the military, with a spotter, but the truth was that he preferred to work alone. It was the same with most of the rest of his life. He preferred solitude, and he didn’t have very many close relationships. It was why he’d chosen to be a nomad, why he hadn’t seen or talked to his mother in three years, and why he knew he’d be a terrible father to his beautiful little girl—at least, it was one of the reasons. He sighed and began pulling things out of the backpack and setting up his area.

Garrett had studied aerial maps of the place before even going up the mountain for the first time. He’d looked at photographs and satellite pictures, and the first time he went up, he took photos of his own from every angle. He walked the perimeter until he found the perfect spot to stage his kill and then he’d established his own escape route. Then for the next few days he watched Josiah Miller come in and out of the cabin and he got familiar with his target’s routines. Now, he lay down in the snow, ranged the target, and adjusted the position of the gun for the wind and elevation and other variables.

Garrett didn’t like to think of himself as a killer, but he had to admit that was what he was. While he was in the Navy, he could justify what he did by telling himself it was only a job, and one that was saving humanity at that. But once he got out and his job had morphed into traveling the United States for the MC and doing almost exactly the same thing, he wasn’t able to justify it that way any longer. He kept doing it, because it was all he was good at…and he took jobs like this one for Dax because, well, there were just some people you didn’t say no to. Garrett had known Dax for so long that he knew Dax wouldn’t have faulted him for turning the job down, but Dax had been one of very few constants in Garrett’s life. Dax wasn’t frightened or fazed by the changes in Garrett’s personality when he was gone, and he was also one of a handful of people that Garrett knew would be there, saddled up and ready to ride or die, if he needed him. So, he wasn’t about to tell Dax no, even if the job did get in the way of his own plans, temporarily.

Garrett took the high-powered binoculars out of his backpack and while he sat with his back against a tree, he brought them up to his face. He adjusted them until the cabin came into focus. There were no signs of life outside, but the smoke from the chimney told him Miller was inside. It was almost time for him to rise and drink his coffee on the porch. It was what he did every day. Garrett marveled sometimes at how people were such creatures of habit. It was what had gotten a lot of them killed, and they probably didn’t even know it. Garrett had the opportunity to take Miller out many times over that week that he’d been watching him, but he had to wait until everything was in place.

This man had taken Dax’s old lady with the intention of doing her great harm. Even to a killer like Garrett, that was not okay. Miller thought he was paying Dax back for ending his old man’s miserable, hateful existence. He couldn’t see that Dax had done the world a great favor. Dax had also saved Cody and his older brother from continuing to suffer the horrors of abuse the man heaped upon them, but Josiah Miller either didn’t know or didn’t care about any of that. From what Dax told Garrett about what he’d been able to find out about Josiah’s past, the old man hadn’t been any easier on him. But the kid had watched Dax kill him, and then he had spent eighteen years locked up. He was a kid when he went to prison, and according to the prison psychologist’s notes that Dax had somehow gotten his hands on, Josiah had created a fantasy parent in his head. He’d managed to block out the broken bones that could still be seen on an x-ray. When the psychologist asked him about the knife and burn scars on his back, he’d blamed them on his mother and her “string of men.” If not for the fact that Cody had almost identical scarring on his own back, that might be believable.

Josiah had allowed his hate for Dax, Cody, and the Skulls to fester for all the years he was locked up and he’d come out mean, vengeful, and dangerous. The only way Dax could rest easy and know that his family was safe was if this man was no longer on the planet, and Garrett was okay with that. But Josiah had found a place where Dax and his crew would never be able to take their bikes to get at him, so Garrett had made a promise to Dax that before he took him out, Josiah would know who was behind the bullet. He’d set that up last night and now all he had to do was wait.

He lowered the binoculars and, with some effort, got his big hand into the pocket on the front of the coveralls. The photo he put there was hard from the cold. If he bent it in half, it would probably break. He smiled as he looked at Jessie’s little face. His daughter looked like an angel, and Garrett still marveled at how he could be any part of her. Jessie had just turned four years old. She had blonde hair and big, round brown eyes. Her eyelashes were longer than any Garrett had ever seen and all she had to do was bat them in his direction to get anything she ever wanted. She had the softest skin. Garrett had touched many women, and he loved the feel of a woman’s soft skin against his calloused fingers. But Jessie’s was even softer…it was so new. Everything about her was new, and that was a big reason why he had finally decided she’d be better off without him.

Garrett was home on leave when he met Leanne. She was the cousin of one of his brothers in the Sin City Flames and she was home from college at the same time. Garrett met her at a party at the club and by the end of the night he’d taken her back to his place. They’d spent the rest of the weekend in bed, and in the shower and on his couch and even once up against the wall in the garage where he kept his bike. She was hot, and they both consumed a lot of alcohol that weekend. A few times he remembered using a condom, but a few more times they’d gotten caught up in the heat of the moment and they hadn’t.

It was Garrett’s club brother, Leanne’s cousin, who had written to him and told him about the baby. He was in Niger at the time and the letter took months to reach him. By the time he got it, the baby was four months old and Leanne had met someone. By the time Garrett made it home again on leave, Jessie was almost a year old and Leanne was planning a wedding. The man she was marrying wasn’t in the club. He had some professional job and a big house and a nice car. He was well-groomed and educated and articulate and worlds apart from who and what Garrett was. But when Leanne asked Garrett to sign papers giving up his rights to the baby, he had flatly refused. He knew as soon as he saw her that she was his. It was some kind of unspoken bond as soon as his eyes met his daughter’s eyes. They were his eyes, and although everything else about her was her mother, he recognized the same eyes he saw in the mirror every day, looking back at him through his baby. He’d never loved anything or anyone at first sight before, but Jessie’s smile was seared into his soul, the first time she pointed it in his direction. He’d gone to his platoon leader and they’d arranged for a DNA test that proved Garrett was her father.

She was almost two by the time Garrett came home again and they met in court with their lawyers. Garrett was having second thoughts about staying in the little girl’s life until he saw her again. Most kids were afraid of him. He was like Goliath to their David, and he didn’t blame them. But Jessie had seen him that day and once again she’d smiled and stretched out her tiny little arms. Leanne cried when she saw him pick her up, and the man Leanne married had been the one to suggest they call the hearing off and share custody of the baby.

Garrett had to go back for almost another year after that and when he came home again and visited the toddler, things between them were still just as good. The difference was Garrett. He was plagued by nightmares and flashbacks. He refused to take the medication the army gave him. He’d be damned if he’d walk around drooling like a fucking zombie. He self-medicated with weed and alcohol, and sex. His life was an endless party while he was awake and a house of horrors while he slept. The only thing that brought him peace was Jessie. He was selfish enough at first to revel in that and visit her as often as Leanne would let him.

But it had only taken him a few months of visits to realize she had the kind of life he’d never be able to give her. She had a huge room and it seemed to have everything in it that any little girl could ever want or need. He would sit on the floor for hours sometimes while she introduced him to her dolls and stuffed animals and fixed them all tea with a china tea set he was afraid to touch. Or they’d sit in the backyard of the house that looked like a park. It had rolling hills and a play set unlike any Garrett had ever seen. Jessie was always smiling and she talked nonstop to him about her friends at preschool and her mommy and Jake. Jake was her stepfather, the one that worked every day to give her everything she had, everything she wanted, and everything Garrett knew she deserved. It didn’t take him long to realize that the longer he stayed in her life, the more she’d come to know that her real father was the man who tucked her in every night and told her a story…not the funny giant who just came to visit and didn’t have anything of value to offer her.

The day Garrett had that realization was the day he started planning his own death. He would have gone through with it by now, but the letters had taken him weeks to write. He wanted the people he cared about, and most importantly Jessie, to know that leaving them was a necessity, not a choice. He wanted Jessie to know how much he loved her and he needed her to know that the only thing that would ever take him from her was the knowledge that she was going to be so much better off without him. She might forget him eventually, and her mother might choose to not even give her the letter, but his soul wouldn’t have been able to rest if he hadn’t tried to explain it to her. Garrett wasn’t a talker and when he did talk, he wasn’t articulate like Jake. He’d spent hours on spell-checking the letter alone. He didn’t want his little girl to think she’d come from a man without a brain. He wasn’t stupid, but even as a kid, school had not been his thing.

Once he finally finished her letter, he’d written the rest of them, slipped them into envelopes, and was gathering what he needed for his final trip. That was when Dax called and now instead of resting in a box, he was freezing his ass off on the side of a mountain. Thankfully, that would be over soon. He saw movement near the cabin and with one hand, he tucked Jessie’s picture back in his pocket and with the other, he picked up the binoculars.

Garrett focused them on the porch and saw Josiah Miller. He was wearing a long-sleeved flannel shirt and a pair of jeans and boots. He had a coffee mug in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He was leaning up against one of the wooden beams and looking out at the snow that surrounded him. Garrett knew it would take Miller a few minutes to see what he’d left him. He lay down in the snow behind his rifle and put the binoculars down. He sighted his scope, taking his time as Miller continued to nurse his coffee. Garrett’s finger caressed the trigger and watched through the powerful scope as Miller’s eyes grew wide, his face went pale, and the mug slipped from his fingers. The bullet tore through his head before the mug even finished shattering against the wooden porch.

Garrett took his time packing his things up, making sure he didn’t leave anything behind, before walking the two miles down to where the cabin was and the dead man lay, to do the same. The first thing he did was take down the picture he’d stolen out of Miller’s things while he was sleeping a few nights before. It was one that he’d had taken of Dax with his gun to some thug’s head. It was black and white and big enough for Miller to see from the porch where he stood each day. Garrett would gather the rest of the pictures once the body was taken care of. He’d take what he found in the cabin to Dax and then he’d go home to Las Vegas…for one last visit before he met Josiah Miller in hell.

Jessie Cooke writes hot romance novels about tough guys, bad boys, bikers, fighters and lovers and the women of strong character who tame them.

HOSTED BY:

#EnticingJourneyBookPromotions

SaveSave