Shadow (Book 1): War Reapers MC, #1

By Sophia Gray

This is book 1 of the War Reapers MC series! Books 2 and 3 are available everywhere now!

I took her in the shadows, so no one could hear her scream.

NIC

My days are filled with violence, my nights with blood.

The most dangerous crime lord in the city wants my MC slaughtered.

It's why I ride alone.

Any woman in my life has to leave the next morning – for her own safety.

But when Lauren walks into my biker bar on Christmas, looking sweet and innocent and seductive?

I can't resist.

I take her home. I make her scream my name until her throat is hoarse. I give her a night to remember.

But then she disappears.

Months later, I'm in the battle of a lifetime, trying to keep my MC alive.

But guess who I end up saving one night?

Lauren.

And to make things worse?

She's carrying my child.

Now she—and the baby she carries—are in mortal danger.

And it might cost me everything to keep them both safe.

LAUREN

When my boyfriend dumps me, I refuse to spend Christmas alone.

I go to the place I've always been too scared to enter: the city's biker bar.

There, I see the most gorgeous man. With muscles rippling and tattoos all over his body, he puts me under his spell.

When Nic says he's taking me to his bed? I don't resist.

He gives me the greatest pleasure I've ever known. All through the night, he claims me.

But that one night has consequences.

Because now I'm pregnant with Nic's baby.

I don't know how to tell him. How can a man like him be a father?

But when he rescues me, keeps me safe, I want to believe we can be a family.

Can I tell him I love him—before it's too late?

***

SHADOW is about Nic and Lauren, a bad boy biker and an innocent girl. They were from two different worlds, but in this new adult contemporary romance, they find their way into each other's arms. The dark romance story with sex and passion is an exciting, action-filled read. It will quickly become your favorite alpha male bad boy biker romance series of all-time – guaranteed! So check out this romance thriller suspense right now

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sopris Page Press
• Release date: Oct 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393146179

Book preview

Shadow: A Motorcycle Club Romance (War Reapers MC Book 1)

By Sophia Gray

I took her in the shadows, so no one could hear her scream.

NIC

My days are filled with violence, my nights with blood.

The most dangerous crime lord in the city wants my MC slaughtered.

It’s why I ride alone.

Any woman in my life has to leave the next morning – for her own safety.

But when Lauren walks into my biker bar on Christmas, looking sweet and innocent and seductive?

I can’t resist.

I take her home. I make her scream my name until her throat is hoarse. I give her a night to remember.

But then she disappears.

Months later, I’m in the battle of a lifetime, trying to keep my MC alive.

But guess who I end up saving one night?

Lauren.

And to make things worse?

She’s carrying my child.

Now she—and the baby she carries—are in mortal danger.

And it might cost me everything to keep them both safe.

LAUREN

When my boyfriend dumps me, I refuse to spend Christmas alone.

I go to the place I’ve always been too scared to enter: the city’s biker bar.

There, I see the most gorgeous man. With muscles rippling and tattoos all over his body, he puts me under his spell.

When Nic says he’s taking me to his bed? I don’t resist.

He gives me the greatest pleasure I’ve ever known. All through the night, he claims me.

But that one night has consequences.

Because now I’m pregnant with Nic’s baby.

I don’t know how to tell him. How can a man like him be a father?

But when he rescues me, keeps me safe, I want to believe we can be a family.

Can I tell him I love him—before it’s too late?

SHADOW IS ABOUT NIC and Lauren, a bad boy biker and an innocent girl. They were from two different worlds, but in this new adult contemporary romance, they find their way into each other’s arms. The dark romance story with sex and passion is an exciting, action-filled read. It will quickly become your favorite alpha male bad boy biker romance series of all-time – guaranteed! So check out this romance thriller suspense right now!

Chapter One

Nic

Iwoke up with a headache that felt like someone was tapping rusty nails into my skull. My guts were being slowly wound around a fist and squeezed. I heard myself groan like a wounded animal as I rolled over onto my back, knowing with grim certainty that as soon as I opened my eyes, the morning sun would jump through my window and dig its thumbs deep into my eye sockets.

And if it didn't, well, probably one of Giovanni’s guys would.

Sure enough, when I opened my eyes, the sunlight delivered on its threat and clawed at my face savagely. I forced my eyelids to stay open despite the pain and waited for the yellow haze to slowly fade away, bringing the rest of my apartment into focus one detail at a time, like an old Polaroid being shaken. Thankfully, the sunlight appeared to be my only attacker that morning. I wasn't sure how long that kind of luck would hold given my situation, but I'd take it while I could get it.

I stumbled to my feet and staggered across the barely-furnished apartment, leaving a trail in the thick layer of dust on the floor. I wasn't much of a housekeeper. I didn't spend much time in this place. Why would I, when I spent at least two-thirds of my life on the road and most of the remainder at the Nest? It was just a spartan first-floor studio in a mostly-abandoned building in Rogers Park—an anonymous place to crash when I needed to be off the radar for a bit.

I didn't even pay rent for the apartment. I'd managed to rig some extension cords and power strips connecting to an empty apartment across the hall where the electricity was still running. That gave me enough juice to run a heater to warm the place and a small TV to fall asleep to. My books were in one battered cardboard box, and my clothes were in another. My beloved bike was stashed at the Nest down the block, fiercely protected by my brothers in arms, the War Reapers.

What more could a man need?

Something to make this goddamn hangover go away, that's what.

I swayed over the toilet as I pissed through the thin layer of ice that had settled over the water in the bowl, the tiles freezing under my bare feet. The heater was decent at warming the corner of the living room where I slept, but in the bathroom, I could see my own breath hovering in front of me in silvery clouds, here one moment, gone the next.

God bless Chicago in the wintertime. There’s nothing on earth like it, and thank Christ for that.

Then again, I figured I should have probably just been grateful that I still had breath to see, the way things had been going.

How the hell did it come to this? I asked myself, grimacing at the answer. This whole scenario was what Bard, the president of the Reapers, called a comedy of errors. Growler, his VP—who wasn't nearly as big a fan of books in general, or Shakespeare in particular—preferred to call it a thoroughly righteous fuck-up of biblical proportions.

The Reapers had a long-standing business arrangement with Giovanni's crew. We'd run a few pounds of weed and sometimes, a few dozen tabs of MDMA from Indiana to Chicago so that Giovanni and his guys could make a little money off the city's college kids and burn-outs. Compared to the other stuff Giovanni was involved with (labor unions, money laundering, sports betting, and political fixing, just to name a few of the highlights), what we brought him was a drop in the bucket.

Mostly, the arrangement existed to keep things peaceful and friendly between our club and the Mafia. Their connections with cops, judges, and other Midwestern crime families allowed us to move and operate with far greater freedom than we had on our own. One of our guys gets busted for speeding in Indianapolis or for bashing some dude's teeth in with a vodka bottle during a bar fight in West Lafayette? Call Giovanni, you'll be out of the joint by dinnertime. Some shit gets out of control, and we need a body to disappear without a trace? Call Giovanni, and wait for a couple of guys in overalls to come by in a truck, toss it into a rug or an industrial garbage bag, and boom—What body, officer? We didn't see nothing. We’re just a harmless motorcycle club that does charity runs and Toys for Tots, so go bother someone else.

It was a good arrangement. And then fucking Vole had to come into the Nest a few nights ago and flush the whole damn thing right down the crapper.

BENVOLIO BERTOLUCCI was one of Giovanni's many cousins, which was probably the only reason a pathetic nimrod like him could ever have become a made guy, let alone a major capo in the Bonaccorso family. They called him Vole for short, and he certainly looked the part. With his beady black eyes, massive nose, and protruding front teeth, he looked like some revolting species of rodent. Most of Bonaccorso’s soldiers were known for dressing sharply in their expensive suits and designer golf shirts. Even their track suits were kept spotless out of respect for Big G's obsession with neatness and presentation.

Vole, on the other hand, seemed to pride himself on being the exception that proved the rule. His hair was always unwashed, his jaw and neck were always blue with stubble, he always had food stains drying and crusting on his off-the-discount-rack suits, and his shirts were always untucked and marred with careless cigarette burns. In short, he pretty much looked like something you'd find up your nose. He even seemed to take pride in this, since it represented just how much he could get away with, being related to the boss.

But despite all of this—and the fact that his breath usually smelled like he'd just munched on a urinal cake, with a handful of stale cigarette butts on the side—the worst part about Vole was that he thought he was a comedian. His jokes usually fell into two categories: The ones we’d already heard a zillion times, and the ones we could do without hearing altogether. He always traveled with two other Bonaccorso thugs in tow who seemed to be paid exclusively to laugh at his bad jokes and smooch his ass for him whenever he needed it.

Vole's favorite joke was to walk up behind guys, shove his knuckle against their upper backs like the barrel of a gun, lean in close, and whisper—with that heinous breath—This ain't no stick-up, Jack. I'm just really tall, and really excited!

I’d heard that one in first grade and didn't laugh at it then, either. But oh how the two guys with Vole would pretend to fall all over themselves with their fake cackling and knee-slapping, waiting until Vole's own laughter died down so they'd know when it was safe for them to stop.

Since Giovanni was a high-profile guy and always under the fed’s microscope, he usually let Vole do all of his business for him. This meant that every time we needed to hand off weed and pills in exchange for the money, Vole would come and visit the Nest with his two flunkies. So we'd all have to make nice for a few hours and give him free drinks, no matter how much he acted like an obnoxious prick.

A few nights ago, Vole and his guys came in to make the usual exchange, and