by J.C. Valentine
Spartan Riders MC, #5
Publication Date: July 30, 2018
Cover Credits: Sara Eirew
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, MC Romance, Biker, Standalone
USA Today and International and bestselling author J.C. Valentine is back with the latest in her captivating, enigmatic, and rousing world of the Spartan Riders MC…
They’ve been through hell and back and have the scars to prove it.
Kade “Moose” Hunter doesn’t tolerate drama. He’s cocky, unapologetic, and all about the quiet side of life.
That’s why Mouse fits him so well.
Angel “Mouse” Grace isn’t like the other women hanging around the club. She’s sweet and gentle, and when Moose gets her engines revving, her passion burns bright. She’s the yin to his yang, and Moose is almost certain she’s the one, but life is never that easy for a Spartan.
The catch? Their town is falling apart.
A cesspool of crime and addiction, the Spartans face yet another challenge: confront crime lord Manuel Contreras and risk war, or worse, death. When Angel’s kid sister rolls into town and takes a shine to the Spartan’s mortal enemy, Moose is torn between doing what’s best for his family…and what’s best for his love life.
Will he be able to strike a balance, or lose everyone he cares about in the process?
*NOTE* COCKY can be read as a STANDALONE! Although a part of the Spartan Riders series, COCKY features a brand new couple, therefore, can be read as a standalone!
DON’T MISS OUT ON THE OTHER BOOKS IN THE SPARTAN RIDERS SERIES!
Things were unusually quiet at the clubhouse today. Everyone had been dispersed to the wind. The prospects were around, but each had their own assignment designed to keep the place running smoothly and efficiently. Basically, things were getting handled.
The women were in short supply too. Most were at work or taking classes at the community college, since the men liked their ladies empowered and with more than a few brains in their head. Call them weird or feminists or whatever, but as far as Moose was concerned, the mark of a good man was directly tied to the quality of the woman by his side.
Most of his brothers felt the same. It just made sense. Like begot like. If a man carried himself like trash, he was going to attract trash, and vice versa. A person had to consider the kind of company they kept.
Moose had hung back today because…well, what did an enforcer do when they had nothing to enforce? Things had been so quiet lately that his knuckles hadn’t had a good bruising in forever. He was starting to feel like Rocky by the last movie—old and washed up, no longer useful. It wasn’t as if he was a violent man by nature, and he sure didn’t relish getting his clothes bloody, but what did a guy have to do to get a little action around here?
As if the skies had opened up and the angels began to sing, the front door swung open and a contrite Country came walking in, his gait wide and awkward as if he’d suddenly gone bowlegged and got his ass kicked and still had the guy’s boot shoved way up where the sun didn’t shine. He had his hand shoved down the front of his pants and was cussing up a storm.
“What’s wrong, little buddy?” Moose asked with a smirk. “Someone spur your ass or what?”
“Don’t you start with me,” Country warned him as he stormed past him on the way toward the wing that held the bedrooms. “Fuckin’ pants are chaffing my balls.” His hand got to working overtime.
“Are you wrestling a squirrel or somethin’?” Moose taunted, unable to help himself.
“Or somethin’,” Country barked, clearly not in a mood to play. “I swear to Christ. Can a person suddenly grow an allergy to jeans?”
“Not that I’ve heard,” Moose replied smoothly. “Maybe polyester in your panties?”
Country swung a death glare over his shoulder. “They don’t even make polyester anymore. I think…”
Moose drummed his fingers on the table. “But they do make this nifty powder substance that can sure make it seem like it.”
Country took two more steps before stopping dead in his tracks. “You didn’t,” he said slowly, his voice low and filled with dark intent.
Moose saw the exact moment that he remembered the night that inspired it all, and burst out laughing.
“You dirty motherfucker!” Country bellowed. “After I take a shower, I’m kicking your fuckin’ ass. You’d better use that time as a head start because I’m going to mess that pretty face up.”
Moose blew him a kiss. “Assuming you can catch me.” He stepped down from the stool and casually tucked in his shirttails. “Enjoy that shower. And make sure to use some petroleum jelly after. Helps with the residual burn. Oh, and you might want to check the rest of your drawers to make sure nothing else has been tampered with.” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Man, never know who you can trust these days.”
Country glared. Moose laughed. Man, it wasn’t even noon yet, and it was already turning out to be a damned fine day.
As Country stormed off to get that shower, Moose sidled up to the bar and took the seat beside Cricket, who was looking a touch worse for wear this afternoon. “You look like something the cat dragged in.”
“Thanks, bro. Just the look I was aiming for.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “What’d you do to him?”
Moose lifted a shoulder. “Just a little itching powder in the boxers trick I learned back in college.”
ABOUT J.C. VALENTINE
J.C. Valentine is the USA Today and International bestselling author of the Night Calls and Wayward Fighters Series and the Forbidden Trilogy. Her vivid imagination and love of words and romance had her penning her own romance stories from an early age, which, despite being poorly edited and written longhand, she forced friends and family members to read. No, she isn’t sorry.
Living in the Northwest, she has three amazing children and far too many pets. Among the many hats she wears, J.C. is an entrepreneur. Having graduated with honors, she holds a Bachelor’s in English and when she isn’t writing, you can find her editing for fellow authors.
Sign up for J.C.’s newsletter and never miss a thing! http://bit.ly/1KxXWWB