Author: Anne Malcom
Series: Sons of Templar MC #9
Release Date: July 15, 2021
Genre: Contemporary Romance, MC
More Info: Goodreads
Purchase: Amazon US
Purchase: Amazon UK
Purchase: Amazon CA
Purchase: Amazon AU
Should I tell you a story?
Not a fairytale, mind you.
There's not a princess to be seen. Nor a prince. Not even a hero.
This is about the stripper and the outlaw.
Our story begins with the Sons of Templar MC, with a man even the outlaws fear.
He was trouble. More than trouble.
To everyone but me.
Our story begins with blood, violence and pain.
I have a feeling it will end that way too. But it’s too late for escape.
I’ve fallen for the scoundrel. The sinner. The outlaw.
Title: Three Kings of Trouble
Series: Sons of Templar MC #9
Genre: Contemporary MC Romance
Cover Design: TRC Designs
Author: Anne Malcom
Release Date: July 15, 2021
~ Suggested Reading Order ~
Gwen Alexandra does not need a man in her life. Especially not a man who looks like Chris Hemsworth and Joe Manganiello’s love child. One wearing leather, riding a Harley, and covered in tattoos.
Gwen can bet every pair of her Manolo’s that Cade Fletcher is trouble. From the moment she meets him, the attraction sizzles between them. Gwen has a problem when it comes to attractive men in motorcycle clubs. The last one she got involved with almost killed her.
After healing physically, Gwen decides to get a new start in a small town, half a country away from the man who nearly cost her her life. She isn’t in town five minutes when she runs into Cade, a man that is too sexy and dangerous for his own good.
She tries to keep away from him, to ignore the attraction between them. But the biker has other ideas, soon she is in way over her head, and her heart, and her life are in danger once again.
Amy Abrams doesn’t do love. Nor does she do emotional attachments, unless you count the connection she has with designer handbags. She grew up in an Upper East Side penthouse, which had about as much affection within its tastefully decorated walls as Castle Dracula. Her family is the precise reason why she points her red-soled heels firmly in the opposite direction of that dreaded four-letter word.
Then it happens. Love. It comes right out of the blue and knocks her off her six-inch heels. She learns that love comes with pesky side effects such as heartbreak, which seriously messes with the complexion. Amy promises herself that she’ll never open herself to that horrible feeling again. She doesn’t count on an infuriating, albeit drool-worthy biker to roar into her life and ruin the plans she had of locking up her heart. She keeps her distance, wary of the sinfully sexy biker whose tattoos should read Warning – dangerous alpha male, will screw up your life.
Amy may be an Upper East Side princess but she wasn’t looking for Prince Charming. She wouldn’t mind the name of his hair stylist, though. Brock certainly isn’t a knight in shining armor, but he consumes her, body and soul. Drama pulls them apart; danger will bring them back together. When Amy is threatened Brock is there ready to save her life. Her heart is another story.
My life’s not easy. I’ll tell you that now. It’s not neat. I don’t fit into society the way most people expect me to and I don’t color studiously between the lines, outside the lines is where I reside. The fringes of society is where I found my place, with the Sons of Templar MC. The life they lived gave me everything I wanted, and everything I needed. Most importantly, it gave me something I’d been lacking for over a decade—family. A place to belong.
Club girl—that was my title. There were other words for what I was, but I preferred the less derogatory version. Sure, I’d love to be an Old Lady. It’s the dream. But, as someone who escaped into fantasy worlds when life got too much, I knew the difference between dreams and reality. I had resigned myself to the fact, I’d always belong to the club. It didn’t mean I didn’t crave one man in particular to claim me. To put me on the back of his bike and ride off into the sunset with the man who’d captured my heart the first day I saw him—Hansen. The dream where he’d finally see me and make me his, existed strictly in Macy’s world of wonder. Until now. Until somehow my fantasy world and reality world collided and he looks at me in the way I’d dreamt of for a year.
Fairy tales usually had neat and happy endings once the hero and heroine got together. This wasn’t a fairy tale. Hansen wasn’t your traditional hero and I was the furthest you could get from a heroine. I feared my past might dictate my future. That my world outside the lines would go from messy to complete disaster.
Living a life in darkness causes the soul to char to ash. Battling demons by turning himself into a monster is the only way he can survive…the only way he can keep a grip on sanity. That grip is precarious at best, every day is a silent battle with demons that threaten to yank him into the truest form of darkness, the abyss he’ll never escape. Then it happens. Light shines through the cracks.
Happiness. Mia Spencer’s life is full of it. She has an amazing new job, friends, family, and the light of her life – her daughter Lexie. Running from the demons of the past, escaping a hell that she vowed Lexie would never know about, she worked through hardship and near poverty to create something she was proud of. Buried deep inside, underneath the swell of love she had for her only daughter, were the fractured pieces of her. Pieces that were smashed and battered when she was young and vulnerable.
Then she meets Bull, who seems to hate her on sight. He screams danger, from his huge physique, to his beautiful ink, to the motorcycle club he belongs to. He is silent, his glares threaten to burn her into flames, yet she finds herself falling for him. Finds this broken man slowly fixing the pieces she thought would stay shattered forever.
People make love seem complicated. Intricate. Novels try to capture its intensity; music tries to rein in its soul.
I’ve read every novel I could. I’ve lived and breathed every song that I could listen to. The sounds fill my unquiet mind.
Then he came.
He brought with him the beauty of silence that echoes through my soul and showed me love isn’t complicated. It’s simple. Beautiful.
Some say love at first sight doesn’t exist, that you can’t find your soul mate at sixteen years old. Those are people rooted in reality, chained to the confines of life that dictates how you are meant to think. Killian broke those chains. He broke everything, shattered it so I can see that reality is overrated, that daydreams can somehow come to life.
My life tumbled into darkness in the time after I met him, so dark I’m not sure I’ll ever see the light again. But he is always at my side. His life means he knows how to navigate the dark and he can lead me out.
I wade through the darkness with him at my side.
We’ll be together forever; I’m certain of that.
Until I’m not.
Love can be a beautiful thing.
It can fill up your life with the warmth of its embrace and spread to every corner of your mind.
It can quiet your soul.
But when that love turns wrong, it twists and warps into something bitter and unrecognizable.
The pain of it promises unyielding noise in place of that half-remembered silence.
Lexie has lived with this pain for four years, pouring it into music that transformed Unquiet Mind into the most famous rock band in the world.
But fame can also turn ugly, curl into that bitter version of love and endanger everything Lexie holds dear.
The moment Lexie’s life is threatened, he comes back to ensure she stays alive.
He’s not just back to save her life, he’s back to save her soul and to claim what’s his.
Problem is, someone else already considers Lexie his, and he’ll kill to make sure she stays that way.
Life is counted in tiny breaths, ones that measure the length of your existence. Life stole the ability to make those breaths easy when Lily was nine years old. Turned her quiet. Made her curl into herself, and shut out a world that threatened to bury her under its weight.
The end of her world is what brings him back—her biker. His chocolate eyes pierce her soul while his club tempts her with a life that she didn’t know she could ever have. Especially not when she was clutching the tattered remains of her existence, and with a weight bearing down on her which makes her unfit for the role of Old Lady. Asher changes that. He wants to set about repairing it, repairing her and her broken world. The problem is, even his strong shoulders can’t carry the burden of her sorrow.
Asher doesn’t take no for an answer. She may have given him her heart three years ago, but never in her wildest dreams would she imagine she had possessed his for the same amount of time.
Just when it seems like she may be able to ride off into the horizon, the world isn’t quite finished trying to rob her of breath. Of life.
This isn’t a fairy tale.
I’ll save you the trouble by telling you that now.
This is the tale of a girl who spent her life bouncing around foster homes, who had her innocence stolen in the darkness before she knew it was something that could be lost. Her demons followed her everywhere, after that night. They chased her to the medical school she dropped out of, to the strip club she sold herself in, and finally caught her in a river of sin where they tried to drown her.
My name is Bex and this is my story.
I’m paddling, barely keeping my head above water. And even though I’m submerged, I’ll never be clean. The layer of dirt that has clung to me since birth is a tattoo I’ll wear for life.
He can’t see it, though.
Even when I’m torn and tattered, and left in pieces, he wades into the filth to try to put those pieces back together.
He doesn’t seem to understand there’s nothing left to repair. To love. Just sullied fragments of a damned soul. He’s willing to damn himself in order to exact revenge on those who sent me to the pit. Problem is, my name is at the top of that list, since I not only damned my own soul, but his too.
Freshly brewed tea. Earl Grey, loose leaf.
Rain on the windowsills. The smell of library books. Escape into worlds greater than this.
A quiet life. Maybe boring, but boring was never dangerous. Until I saw what I was missing out on. Who I was missing out on. The man who shattered my boring, safe life and lay it to ruin.
The man I’d been in love with since I was a teenager. Who I’d been invisible to since I was a teenager.
The man who just happened to be a world-famous rock star.
Whisky. Neat. Leave the bottle.
Crowd of hundreds of people. No, make it thousands. All shouting my name. Live fast. Die…
Die? I’m too young, too famous and far too badass to die. Death doesn’t happen when you stop breathing, it’s what happens before that. Death is the monotony of life. The grave? Well, all the greats live there. You’re not a rock star until you die before you’re thirty. The grave doesn’t bother me.
Just the quiet.
That is death in the life of rock.
But then… her.
She’d been there all along and I’d been too blind, too obsessed with the fast, loud life to realize where the real Nirvana lay.
In the silence.
Even the grave couldn’t hold me if I didn’t get her.
And I’m a rock star.
And a badass.
And as stubborn as I am good-looking.
I know how to get what I want.
I also know how to kill anyone who gets in my way.
There’s a phrase: Still waters run deep.
But there’s more to it than that.
Because “still” doesn’t denote peace. Nor calm. Nor happiness.
It’s an illusion. It’s chaos.
The only way to handle chaos is to become it.
That’s what Lucy did. She created stillness out of the chaos tumbling inside her and called the most chaotic motorcycle club in the United States her family.
The Sons of Templar gave her chaos, friendship, family, danger and death.
But she wouldn’t want it any other way.
Then he came. The one who showed her that her handle on chaos was tumultuous at best.
Showed her how to stand still.
And how good it could be.
And how drowning in those waters comes as easy as breathing.
My name’s Rosie and I come from a dynasty of sorts… the Sons of Templar, maybe you’ve heard of them.
I just happen to be the daughter of one of the founding members and am the sister of the current president.
The fact I’m a woman means I don’t wear the patch, but it’ll never change the fact that I’m a Templar by blood.
We’re known as royalty in the outlaw world. Though, the dynasty is dancing on the right side of the law these days.
That doesn’t mean that the law and those who enforce it are friends.
It will remain the one constant in my tumultuous life. The one rule in our law-free existence.
Befriending the law and those that enforce it is a betrayal.
Which means me being one half of a doomed love is that much more comical when he’s a cop.
Before I went and ruined it all.
Before he shattered that shield he wore to protect society in order to protect me.
He saved me and I damned him.
I damned myself too, but to be honest, I was damned long before that.
Souls are interesting things.
Not something you can prove you possess. Not something that can be measured, like a heartbeat.
But something that can be destroyed by the absence of a heartbeat.
No, you cannot prove you possess a soul.
But once that soul dies, there doesn’t need to be proof that you don’t have one.
Once that blackened pit opens inside you, the world can see it. The world cowers from it.
Gage knew this because his soul was long gone.
He was glad to be rid of it.
He was filled with depraved satisfaction that he could make the world cower from him.
That he could burn the world to the ground and he didn’t have anything—like a soul or a conscience—to stop him.
The woman who proved to him that she had a soul.
That he might have something left of his.
The woman who tricked the world, blinded it to the truth. Hid expertly what was broken and ruined inside her.
Though he was about to prove that there was nothing more broken than him. No one more broken.
He’d prove that by destroying them both.
Everyone expects the fairy tale from me.
Because on the outside, I look like I live in a fantasy.
I’m a hopeless romantic.
I fall in and out of love.
I change careers, zip codes and hair colors on a whim.
I’m a free spirit without a care in the world.
I’m the one that loves everyone and hates no one.
But I’ve got a secret…
I’m not a free spirit.
I’m not free at all.
My life is only designed to look chaotically peaceful.
I’m only designed to look like that.
Peace is lost to me.
Because I’m trying to escape something.
Trying to escape him.
My life isn’t a fairy tale.
It’s time the world saw that.
Don’t judge a book by its cover, that’s how the saying goes, right?
It’s meant to stop people from judging others based on appearances, first impressions. Because people are often a lot more-or usually, lot less-than they appear.
That is not the case with me.
What you see is what you get.
What you see a club whore for the Sons of Templar MC.
Big tits, blonde hair, pretty face. Not much else.
I serve a purpose.
I might not be doing the Lord’s work.
In fact, I’m probably doing the Devil’s.
But I’m okay with that.
The Devil claimed me a long time ago, when he hollowed out my insides and burned everything than made me more than I appeared.
What I was before, who I was before, it’s nothing more than ashes.
I made a life from the ruins. It’s ugly and empty.
But it’s mine.
Until Christmas Eve.
Then my ugly life is no longer empty. And my hollow heart no longer belongs to me.
He’s world famous.
The most eligible bachelor in Hollywood.
Owns the stage and thousands of hearts around the world.
The bassist of Unquiet Mind.
But he’s none of that to me.
To me, he’s just Wyatt.
The teenager I met in my best friend’s garage.
I promised him he’d never get into my bed or into my heart.
It turns out I lied.
My life is about the story.
I’ve risked my life for it.
I chase the story so I can escape having to face my own.
But this one is different.
This story will make my career. My life.
Or it will end it.
The Sons of Templar MC. The most notorious and dangerous outlaw motorcycle club in the country.
And I’m going to get the scoop.
Or I’ll die trying.
My story isn’t unique.
Which is, I guess, what makes it so sad.
The story about a girl who falls in love with the wrong man, lured by tender gazes, devoted promises and gentle touches. The gentle touches disappear and she’s held captive with ugly insults and brutal beatings.
It’s common, this story. My past.
I can’t change the past.
I wouldn’t even if I could.
The ugliness of my past gave me a future worth living for.
Worth dying for.
It gave me a reason to fight. To escape.
That was my mistake. Thinking girls like me could have a choice.
I wasn’t given many promises in my life that weren’t broken, but chaos is a constant promise, always kept, never broken.
He comes amongst the chaos. Amongst the ugly.
He doesn’t promise a way out. He definitely doesn’t promise peace. But he gives me the opportunity for a different ending to my story.
I give myself to strangers.
When I’m on stage, and when I’m off it.
Whether it’s throngs of screaming fans or just one man, it’s always outsiders. People who don’t know me. Not the real me.
It’s easier, because then it’s not so obvious that there is no real me. Just layers of lies.
Then I’m peeled back to the nerve. Showing the world my ugly. Everyone sees me for what I am.
Rightfully so, they hate me.
Almost as much as I hate myself.
I’m willing to hate myself for what I’ve done. To wither away into some washed up old rock star.
But he doesn’t let me.
I want to hate him.
He doesn’t let me do that either.
I was a movie star.
I’d let the world convince me I was nothing more than that.
Duke is employed to protect me. To make me disappear before I testify. Nothing more.
There aren’t many places in the world that someone like me can disappear to. Not when billions of people know my name. I’d worked hard to make it that way. To hide underneath layers of fame, beauty and wealth.
A ranch in Montana offers escape. Safety. But those Montana skies don’t let me hide. Not from myself.
Not from the truth.
I’m no longer a movie star.
I’m a witness. I’m a job. I’m a woman slowly falling in love with a man that despises me.
He’s tasked to protect my life, instead he ruins my soul.
The Sons of Templar MC.
I’m sure you’ve heard of them.
But to me, they’re family.
My husband wore the cut for well over a decade. For almost as long as he wore a wedding ring. Our marriage survived wars. Deaths. Blood. The cuts were deep. And they never healed quite right. But we survived.
Until we didn’t.
He promised me forever. And he gave it to me. His version of it, at least. Mine was longer, though. Much longer.
I wanted to blame the Sons for killing my husband, wanted to hate the club. The cut. But that was impossible. Especially when I found myself falling in love with another man wearing the same cut.
Just when I thought there was nothing left in me to wound, he cut me the deepest.