Blog Tour, Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway:
Priest by Amy Thorn & Raven Amor
Disciples of Satan MC, Book 1
Priest
I’m Priest, President of the Disciples of Satan Motorcycle club. I rule my patch with an iron fist that keeps our enemies at bay. When I’m taken captive by Hades Outlaws, I’m sure I’m as good as dead. I didn’t expect help from an unlikely source.
Nico is a prospect. He should be seen and not heard. Yet he’s risking his neck to save my life. Going against his club is a death sentence, but he’s determined to get me out of Hades compound. I didn’t expect to fall for him along the way. Now, my saviour is also the man I want.
Nico
I’m a pariah in my club. Hades Outlaws will never respect me. When they capture Priest I know it’s the end for us. His brothers will burn our clubhouse to the ground. I have one chance to be free from Hades—save a man who is supposed to be my enemy. When I look at Priest I don’t see a devil in leather and denim. I see my salvation.
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Heading over to the bar, I grab another tray of beers, intending to go around the room again, but the door pushes open, revealing Snake, who is grinning like the Cheshire fucking Cat. He’s a rangy-looking fucker with long hair that reaches to his chin and he’s got fluff on his face that’s supposed to be a beard. He looks like a prepubescent teen, trying to impress the girls. I guess something’s gotta make up for his small cock. Never seen a guy his size with one that small, and he gets it out freely like he’s fucking proud.
“We got him!” he yells.
Got who? I think to myself. I place the beers back on the bar top as Carbon gets to his feet, shoving Tilda off his lap roughly. She lets out a yelp, but his attention is locked on Snake, whose eyes blaze with triumph.
“For real?”
“Hell yeah,” Snake confirms.
Who ‘he’ is becomes apparent as Axe and Jaguar step through the doorway, dragging a man between them. His hair is short, but long enough to run fingers through, and there’s blood coating his face and stubble so thickly, I can’t make out any other features. A silver chain with a large silver cross hangs from his neck. The metal glints and I see a silver skull ring on one of his fingers. My eyes move over him, noticing the leather cut on his back. ‘Disciples of Satan’ is arced over the club insignia.
My heart starts to gallop in my chest when they dump him in the middle of the floor. He hits the carpet with a thud, his dead weight boneless. Are they fucking insane? They took a Disciple?
“We intercepted them on the road to their clubhouse thanks to this fucker’s intel.” Snake pulls Ryker towards him, clapping his back.
Ryker’s eyes dart around, as if he’s wondering how the fuck to escape this hell of his own making. He’s a smarmy little fucker. I didn’t know he was a disloyal cunt too, but trusting him would be the downfall of this Disciple. I can’t help but feel a little sympathy for what they’ll do to him. We’ve been at loggerheads with their club since my father took over. All he’d go on about for hours was the Disciples and how they had what he wanted. The stupid bastard pissed them off enough, they broke the truce my Gramps had put in place. It’s never come to outright war—we don’t have that much sway—but it might now. Taking one of their own is fucking crazy.
“Threw out a stinger across the road, expecting to take them down, but it worked a little too well. We killed one of them and nabbed their fucking president.”
My eyes snap to the man lying prone on the floor, unmoving. That’s the Disciples president? He’s a huge guy, over six feet tall, though it’s hard to tell, and it’s clear he’s built by the way his leather cut looks like it’s been moulded to his body. I try to see his face through the blood coating it, but I can’t.
The fact they did this in the middle of London is fucking crazy. I’d be surprised if they weren’t seen. Snake, Axe, and Jag aren’t exactly stealthy. If the Disciples find out we have their president, they’ll set fire to the clubhouse and piss on the ashes.
“Were you seen?” Carbon asks the question that sits on the tip of my tongue, but I won’t ask because I’m a prospect—we’re seen, not heard.
Last thing we need is the police or the Disciples coming here, although that’s a certainty at some point. If we weren’t at war before, we are now. This will rain hell down on all our heads. My breath quickens as my chest heaves up and down. I’m not scared of dying. There have been times I’ve prayed to the Grim Reaper to find me, but Hades Outcasts are not a cause I want to give my life for.
Snake’s eyes settle on me, and I meet his gaze defiantly. I hate the man. He’s as dumb as a box of rocks and has no fucking sense in his head.
“Get him up. Bring him to the dungeon.”
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Amy Thorn lives in a small market town in the Midlands, England. She lives with her dog and when she’s not writing, she’s playing with crochet hooks.
Connect with Amy:
https://amythornauthor.wixsite.com/amythorn
https://www.facebook.com/AmyThornAuthor
https://www.facebook.com/groups/amythornreaders
Raven loves writing dark romance wrapped in suspense. She loves finding the beauty in the pain, love in tragedy. And of course, writing those hot scenes.
Connect with Raven:
Facebook page: https://bit.ly/FBPAGERAVEN
Facebook group: https://bit.ly/FBGROUPRAVEN
Goodreads: https://bit.ly/GRRAVEN
Bookbub: https://bit.ly/BBRAVEN
Instagram: https://bit.ly/INSTARAVEN
