Grind (Book 1): Jagged Souls MC, #1

By Nicole Fox

This is book 1 of the Jagged Souls MC romance series! Books 2 and 3 are available everywhere now!

He bought me just to make me moan.

SARA

When I need money to pay for my son's school, I decide to take a chance.

What could a fun little auction hurt?

Until I realize this wasn't your usual auction.

This one ends with me naked in some strange man's bed.

To my shock, the devastatingly gorgeous man in the back bids on me—and wins.

Saxton looks at me with those emerald green eyes, and I'm lost.

He takes me home.

And the bad boy delivers on every filthy promise he's made.

Then, just when I think I'll never see him again, I find him left for dead on the side of the road.

A killer is after us both. Danger lurks around every corner.

Now, I have to decide if I'm loyal to my family, to my own blood…

…or if my love for Sam eclipses everything else.

SAXTON

All I want is revenge.

Revenge for the killing of my fallen comrade, murdered in cold blood.

Until I find Sara.

Blond, gorgeous, and innocent, I want her in my bed.

Seeing her up on stage, I know I have to win her.

I take her home. Make her moan my name.

In the morning, though, she's gone.

I try to get her out of my head and focus on finding the killer.

But then Sara comes crashing back into my life.

When I find out that she may be closer to my comrade's killer than either of us realized, I know that I have to make a choice:

Do I choose revenge?

Or do I choose the woman I can no longer live without?

• Language: English
• Publisher: MBK Hanson Inc.
• Release date: Nov 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393336952

Nicole Fox

Nicole Fox writes smart, sexy mafia romance novels. She is a crazy cat lady in her late 30s with a coffee addiction, an overactive imagination, and a husband who somehow puts up with her impulsive need to keep buying new plants for their house. Sign up for her mailing list at http://bit.ly/NicoleFoxMailingList. 

Book preview

Grind: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Jagged Souls MC Book 1)

By Nicole Fox

HE BOUGHT ME JUST TO make me moan.

SARA

When I need money to pay for my son’s school, I decide to take a chance.

What could a fun little auction hurt?

Until I realize this wasn’t your usual auction.

This one ends with me naked in some strange man’s bed.

To my shock, the devastatingly gorgeous man in the back bids on me—and wins.

Saxton looks at me with those emerald green eyes, and I’m lost.

He takes me home.

And the bad boy delivers on every filthy promise he’s made.

Then, just when I think I’ll never see him again, I find him left for dead on the side of the road.

A killer is after us both. Danger lurks around every corner.

Now, I have to decide if I’m loyal to my family, to my own blood...

...or if my love for Sam eclipses everything else.

SAXTON

All I want is revenge.

Revenge for the killing of my fallen comrade, murdered in cold blood.

Until I find Sara.

Blond, gorgeous, and innocent, I want her in my bed.

Seeing her up on stage, I know I have to win her.

I take her home. Make her moan my name.

In the morning, though, she’s gone.

I try to get her out of my head and focus on finding the killer.

But then Sara comes crashing back into my life.

When I find out that she may be closer to my comrade’s killer than either of us realized, I know that I have to make a choice:

Do I choose revenge?

Or do I choose the woman I can no longer live without?

Chapter One

Sara Taylor glanced down at her ringing phone. It was her son’s school, calling again. Normally, she’d answer the call immediately, but she knew it didn’t have anything to do with Ian specifically.

By the third ring, she couldn’t ignore it anymore. Hello?

Is this Mrs. Taylor? the woman asked.

Sara cringed. How many times had she explained this to them? "Miss Taylor, yes."

Miss Taylor, I’m calling from the school’s billing department.

She’d already tried playing dumb. Oh, gee, she must’ve have forgotten. But she couldn’t use that excuse again. Not after they’d already called to tell her she was late. What excuse could she give this time?

I know my payment is late, but Christmas is coming and I—

Miss Taylor, your payment is more than late. You’re several payments behind. Are you aware of the balance on your account?

Umm... she gulped. She tried not to think about it, tried to put it out of her mind. Ian’s schooling was important, of course, but the rent needed to be paid and they had to eat. She could only pay the electric bill late so many times, buying gas for the car had maxed out her credit card, and her next paycheck wouldn’t even be for as much as she owed the school.

You owe $2,850.

Sara closed her eyes and swallowed. More than she made in a month. How in the world would she ever pay it? Ian had to go to this school. The area that they lived in had horrible schools. The teachers were overworked and underpaid, the classrooms poorly supplied and overfull. But that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was the violence. She’d heard that the school’s metal detectors hadn’t worked properly in years and there was no money for new ones. Which meant that in the inner city schools of Chicago, the kids were in class armed with guns, knives, pepper spray, and who knew what else.

The school she’d managed to get Ian into made a world of difference. It was a little expensive, sure. Okay, it was a lot expensive. But the teachers were great and the school had won awards for their high quality of education. The students flourished, got all the help and attention they needed, and were successful after leaving school. Not like the public school that had a low literacy rate and even lower graduation rate. This school had a graduation rate in the 90s. And most of the graduates went onto college or high-paying jobs.

Most of all, this school was safe. They had working metal detectors, security guards on staff, and a zero tolerance policy that meant if a kid was caught with a weapon of any sort, they were gone immediately. This was the place Ian needed to be. This was the type of school he deserved to be in, even if his mother couldn’t afford to have them live in a nicer neighborhood with better public schools.

Isn’t there some sort of scholarship program we might qualify for? Sara asked.

You’re already on the lowest tuition available because of your income. There is no other help for you.

I’ll make a payment this week, I promise.

We have a policy, Miss Taylor. If more than 60 days pass with the account past due, the student is asked to leave.

Right. I know that. And I’ll make a payment. This week.

Will it be for the full amount?

Was there any way she could do that? Get a cash advance on her credit cards or ask her brother for a loan? It seemed impossible. I don’t know for sure yet, but—

I don’t know how else to say this. If your account isn’t paid in full before the start of the holiday break, Ian will be asked to leave. And your next payment will be due the first of the year.

I’ll do the best I can.

Have a good day, Miss Taylor.

Thanks, Sara muttered and hung up the phone.

She sat at her small round kitchen table, staring at the refrigerator that didn’t contain enough food. She needed a better job, more hours, something. There had to be a way to make this work. A way to let Ian stay at his school and not starve his way through his classes. She needed some kind of miracle to help her make this payment.

She stood up and went to shower so that she could be ready for her second job. She pulled on her waitress uniform and walked out to her car. Her drive to work flew by without her noticing. Her mind was so tangled in figuring out ways to shift bills and scrape up some money that she pulled into the restaurant parking lot with no recollection of having driven there.

She put her purse in her locker and went to punch in.

Hey, Jessica said.

Hey, Sara muttered back.

What’s wrong? You don’t seem like your usual cheerful self.

Sara let out a sigh. Jessica had been her friend long enough that she couldn’t hide from her. The truth was best, or she’d just have to keep lying to her friend. Got another call from Ian’s school today. I owe them a lot of money.

Aww. You can have some of my tables tonight.

Thanks, Sara said flatly. She turned from the punch clock and dug in her apron for her notepad.

Wait a minute, Jessica said.

Sara paused and turned to her. What?

Jessica stood in the middle of the busy kitchen, waitresses and busers scurrying around her, the cooks calling out orders, the dishwasher clanging the plates and silver wear noisily. She spoke quietly compared to the clatter of the kitchen, but it was loud enough