STEEL VEINS MOTORCYCLE CLUB Series by Tessa Vane

I pulled him from the fire. Now he burns for me. Ryker Holt was supposed to die that night—a scarred ex-soldier turned Steel Veins enforcer, left for dead in the wreck I dragged him out of. I never expected him to find me again. But he did. Now he’s everywhere. Watching from the shadows. Fixing what’s broken. Paying my debts before I even know I owe them. He doesn’t ask permission. Doesn’t take no for an answer... moreI pulled him from the fire. Now he burns for me. Ryker Holt was supposed to die that night—a scarred ex-soldier turned Steel Veins enforcer, left for dead in the wreck I dragged him out of. I never expected him to find me again. But he did. Now he’s everywhere. Watching from the shadows. Fixing what’s broken. Paying my debts before I even know I owe them. He doesn’t ask permission. Doesn’t take no for an answer. And when the same men who torched my brother’s garage come for me, Ryker shows me what kind of man I really saved. The kind who kills without blinking. The kind who calls me his. He says I can leave anytime I want. But the keys are right there on the nightstand—. and I’m not walking away. A standalone dark MC romance featuring a scarred ex-soldier hero, a stubborn mechanic heroine, obsessive protection, forced proximity, and a love that blurs the line between safety and surrender. HEA guaranteed. less

He's been watching her for nine months. She called him "baby" once. Now he'll burn the world down to hear it again. Anitra Brooks pours drinks for dangerous men. She knows how to read a room, defuse a fight, and keep her walls up. The silent biker in the corner seat? He's been ordering the same whiskey every Friday for nine months, watching her with ice-blue eyes that never blink. She doesn't know his name... moreHe's been watching her for nine months. She called him "baby" once. Now he'll burn the world down to hear it again. Anitra Brooks pours drinks for dangerous men. She knows how to read a room, defuse a fight, and keep her walls up. The silent biker in the corner seat? He's been ordering the same whiskey every Friday for nine months, watching her with ice-blue eyes that never blink. She doesn't know his name. She doesn't know he memorized her schedule, her lotion, her tea, the book she's been rationing. She doesn't know he's been protecting her from the shadows. Until the night she calls him "baby" without thinking—and everything changes. Ronan "Cross" Hale is the Steel Veins MC's Road Captain. He doesn't talk. He doesn't explain. He planned a safehouse around her tea preferences and stocked it with the next book in her series. When the Iron Jackals come for her—because she saw something she shouldn't have—Cross steps out of the shadows and into the crossfire. He says she doesn't need saving. He's right. She needs backup. He's been waiting nine months to be hers. A standalone dark MC romance featuring a silent, obsessive Road Captain, a bartender heroine who runs the room, forced proximity, one bed, a safehouse stocked with everything she loves, and a "baby" that rewires his whole world. HEA guaranteed. less

He's been watching me for eight months. I didn't know. Not until the night he stepped in front of a bullet that was meant for me. I count everything. Minutes since my father died because a doctor couldn't be bothered to read his chart. Doses I adjust at 4 AM when no one's watching. The dollars I cover out of my own pocket so my patients can fill their prescriptions. I don't know that someone's been counting too. Eight hundred and forty-seven dollars appeared in my patient fund tonight... moreHe's been watching me for eight months. I didn't know. Not until the night he stepped in front of a bullet that was meant for me. I count everything. Minutes since my father died because a doctor couldn't be bothered to read his chart. Doses I adjust at 4 AM when no one's watching. The dollars I cover out of my own pocket so my patients can fill their prescriptions. I don't know that someone's been counting too. Eight hundred and forty-seven dollars appeared in my patient fund tonight. Anonymous. Down to the dollar — the exact amount I spent last month. The exact amount I never told anyone. The man in my ER with the grey eyes and the pen behind his ear? He watched my hands, not my body. He said, You shouldn't have to carry it alone. Then a dirty cop put a gun in my face — and the grey-eyed man put his body in front of it. Now I'm locked in an outlaw's medical loft. His blood is under my fingernails. His sutures are my handiwork. His cabinet is stocked with my exact supplies down to the pen brand. And the man who runs everything by numbers — routes, exits, risk, the forty-eight times he's watched me walk to my car — is looking at me like I'm the one variable he can't control. He makes me hot chocolate at 3 AM. From scratch. Because he watched the other brothers make it for their women and he's been waiting for someone to make it for. I should run. I know what he is. I'm not running. He wrote my name in his notebook under one Non-negotiable. I wrote his name somewhere he can't see. Somewhere I'm not ready to show him yet. Rest, he says. I'll keep watch. And God help me — I believe him. A standalone dark MC romance featuring an ice-cold strategist hero, a Black ER doctor heroine who refuses to bend, obsessive protection, forced proximity in a medical loft, explicit heat, and a man who will watch over you until his last breath. HEA guaranteed. No cheating, no cliffhangers. less