Book Hooks is a weekly meme hosted by Marketing for Romance Writers as part of the MFRW Authors Blog. Readers can jump from one author to another who share hooks from their current WIP (work in progress) or any previously published books.
For this week’s edition of Book Hooks, I give you a teaser from my upcoming release, Sons of Sinners, a dark MC m/m romance. Don’t forget to check out the other book hooks from participating authors HERE.
One was built to be a weapon. The other was born to be his salvation.
Blurb: Reluctant biker prince Sloan is trapped in a brotherhood that would execute him for his secret trysts with men. Sick of wearing a mask, he is escaping to British Columbia, but his plans are dashed when he’s caught in the crosshairs of a predator—Ajax, the lethal War Chief whom Sloan secretly craves.
Ex-con Ajax wants out of the Ojibway street gang that raised him. With three bodies to his name, he is the Syndicate Skins’ most feared weapon and the reason his uncle tasks him with kidnapping the rival prince for a hostile takeover of Winnipeg’s North End. When Ajax abducts Sloan, he’s prepared to do whatever it takes to break the handsome biker. But the only man Ajax burns for proves to be a formidable force, capable of penetrating the War Chief’s stone-cold armour.
When the ransom is refused, Sloan’s survival depends on a desperate gamble, forcing the two adversaries to give in to the explosive tension building between them. But to secure their guaranteed happily-ever-after, Ajax must turn on the uncle who raised him, and Sloan must gut the father who betrayed him—or the future they are running for will be destroyed in a single night.
CONTENT WARNING: Sons of Sinners is an intense, high-stakes dark M/M romance. It contains graphic depictions of captivity, power imbalances, severe physical assaults, survival sex, and explicit on-page violence. This book also features racially charged dialogue and gritty, street-accurate slurs to reflect the raw animosity of the fictional gang war. These terms strictly belong to the world of the characters and do not represent the views of the author. Reader discretion is strongly advised.
Genre(s): M/M Dark Romance, Interracial Romance, First Nations Romance, MC Romance, M/M Contemporary Romance, Indigenous Gang Romance
Heat Rating: Level 3
Publication Date: Coming Soon
Publisher: Heartberry Press
Uncle Toad wormed into his parka, the damned thing squeezing tight around his big gut. He had to yank on the zipper to get the thing up while motioning towards the closed door.
Ajax also donned his parka. He reached for his vest, which marked him as a proud member of the Syndicate Skins, but Uncle shook his head, so Ajax left his denim pride on the back of the chair.
Keeping his finger on the trigger of the gun, Ajax slid open the door. One of the guys stood sentry as they always did at the office. Ajax said nothing and strode toward the exit a few steps away.
“Three wraps,” Uncle Toad told the sentry.
“Got it,” the sentry replied.
The icy air hit Ajax’ face at full force, stinging his skin. The scent from the railyard clung to his nostrils. Uncle Toad’s fried chicken dinner followed them, mixing with the oily air.
Even with his gloves on, Ajax managed to light a cigarette since he wore his thin pair, having left his thicker ones inside the count room. This would be a chat that would require intense listening since Uncle never stepped outside to talk unless it was something important, something he didn’t want anyone to hear or know about.
From the front of the club, the blinking red neon bled into the mist and the falling snow.
Uncle also lit a smoke. “It’s time.”
Time for what?
Uncle smirked. His long ponytail was stuffed into the hood he’d never raised. “Been planning this before you finished your bit.”
What did getting out of the pen have to do with this plan? “Say your piece.” Ajax sucked hard on the cigarette’s filter.
“Our days of serving the white man are done.” Uncle drew a line across the cold air. “I got the capital. We can shake them down. The blocks of the North End are going back to their roots, and the roots are us.”
The fuck was he on about? “Never mind the bullshit. Get to the point.”
“You know we used to gather here a couple of centuries ago?” Uncle continued in his gruff voice. “Long before the white man came over on their banana boats, the Anishinaabeg gathered here where the rivers meet. The Assiniboine and the Red.”
“Spare me the history lesson.” Ajax had heard enough of that noise when he’d been cleaning house in the pen. Some fool Elder thought to try and convert him to walk the Red Road, which he’d scoffed at. Indians were all the same—looking for anyone to blame for their shit lives, whether it be the white man or the government. Yeah, that was all the money-grubbing chiefs spewed about to explain why Indians were drunken, useless parents, drugged-out junkies, or as crooked as the leadership who ran the reserves.
The beat of the bass made its way through the thick walls, pounding in Ajax’ throat. Laughter from the front of the building carried down to where he stood.
“The history lesson is why we gotta do what we gotta do.” Uncle frowned, which made his marionette lines cut deeper.
Maggie Blackbird 