{Book Tour & Giveaway} Reaper's Fall by Joanna Wylde (@JoannaWylde @BerkleyRomance)

11/11/2015

The New York Times bestselling author of Reaper’s Stand is back in her “uber-alpha rough world of MCs”* as one woman’s future is rocked by the man whose hardcore past could destroy her…

He never meant to hurt her.

Levi “Painter” Brooks was nothing before he joined the Reapers motorcycle club. The day he patched in, they became his brothers and his life. All they asked in return was a strong arm and unconditional loyalty—a loyalty that’s tested when he’s caught and sentenced to prison for a crime committed on their behalf.

Melanie Tucker may have had a rough start, but along the way she’s learned to fight for her future. She’s escaped from hell and started a new life, yet every night she dreams of a biker whose touch she can’t forget. It all started out so innocently—just a series of letters to a lonely man in prison. Friendly. Harmless. Safe.

Now Painter Brooks is coming home… and Melanie’s about to learn that there’s no room for innocence in the Reapers MC.

Levi “Painter” Brooks always knew that Melanie Tucker was too good for him. She’s not like the other girls. Not to him. She’s sweet, smart and far too sexy for her own good. Her letters are the only thing that make doing time bearable and if she only knew what he really wanted from her, she would run as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

Staying away from her is becoming impossible for a man like him. He takes was he wants and never looks back. Life always proves to be as hard as a biker’s heart and just when the walls that he had carefully built to protect her start to crumble, the law gets in the way – once again.

This time, there are more things that he’s going to miss other than his freedom. Things that he never thought that wanted. He’s done waiting for Mel to realize that she belongs to him – and he’s going to finally claim what’s his.

“It’s beautiful,” she said softly, touching her face. I reached up, setting a hand on her shoulder. She covered it with her own, winding our fingers together. Her eyes burned through mine in the mirror, and that’s when my world shifted.

I’d fallen in love with Melanie Tucker. Not some little-boy, bullshit needy “love” like I’d felt for Emmy Hayes— this was nothing like that. This was deep, almost painful in its unholy intensity. It was like she’d sent tendrils burrowing deep inside, binding us together so tightly I’d die if I ever tried to pull them out.

I was truly, deeply, and utterly fucked, because I fucking loved this girl . . . and she wasn’t for me.”

Melanie was just twenty years old when fell hopelessly in love with Painter. She was taken in by the intense and artistic Reaper with his good looks and bad reputation. That seems so long ago.

But now that she’s older, she has to protect not only herself – but her small daughter as well. She swore that she would never trust her heart to Painter again. She only hopes that she will be strong enough to keep that promise.

“I remembered what his cock felt like when we’d made Isabella. How he’d claimed me and I’d felt so protected and loved, before everything fell apart and I was suddenly alone and scared. I wanted that feeling again— only Painter could give it to me. I’d tried to find someone else, but it was like he’d broken me, destroying every chance for happiness away from his touch.

God, but I hated him for that.”

Reaper’s Fall is yet another emotional rollercoaster ride from Joanna Wylde! Painter and Mel share a one-of-a-kind intensity that is literally tangible on every page. Their story will leave tread marks all over your heart and then make you believe in second chances. And you’ll enjoy every down and dirty moment of it…

Exclusive Excerpt -

“You’re not going back to the party.”

She cocked her head, and I saw the confusion in her alcohol- glazed eyes as she wrinkled her nose at me. All cute, like a rabbit.

“You look like a bunny.”

“You look like an ax murder,” she said, frowning. “And I thought London was looking for me. Aren’t we going the wrong way?”

“I lied. I do that a lot,” I told her, staring at her lips. I reached out, catching her chin in my hand, running my thumb across her lips. Our eyes locked, and I don’t know if her pulse started to rise but mine sure as fuck did. What the hell had I been thinking, writing to this girl? She was so pretty and perfect and had this amazing, magical life just waiting for her and all I could think about was dragging her down into the dirt and shoving my cock into every hole she had.

She’d scream while I did it, too, the same sweet screams that played in my head every night while I jacked off.

I hated myself. 

“Why did you lie?” she asked, her voice a whisper. 

“To get you away from Taz. It’s not safe with him.” 

Mel’s forehead creased in confusion, her brain moving so slowly I could practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes. She might be smart as fuck most of the time, but she’d transitioned to drunker than fuck tonight. Kit. Kit and Em. They’d done this to her.

I leaned in closer, catching her scent. For an instant I swayed, so tempted . . .

“They told me all about you,” she whispered. 

“Who?” 

“The other girls. Kit, Em. Jessica. I know how you operate,” she continued. One of her hands rose, touching my chest. Fire burst through me, because if I’d wanted her before I was desperate for her now. She was so soft, so sweet . . . so perfect.

Then her words sank in. 

“What did you just say?” 

“They told me all about you,” she said, eyes dropping to stare at my lips. “They told me you have a Madonna-whore complex.” I froze.

“A what?”

“A Madonna-whore complex,” she repeated, her voice earnest. “You like to screw dirty girls and you put clean girls on pedestals, where they can stay perfect and pure. That’s pretty messed up, Painter. There’s no such thing as Madonnas and whores. We’re all just people.”

The words stunned me. What the hell was she talking about? Just because I didn’t want her dragged down in the drama and bullshit of this life didn’t mean I had some sort of fucking complex. And who the hell were the Hayes sisters to have an opinion? I couldn’t tell what pissed me off more—the fact that they’d talked to Mel about me or that they hadn’t done a better job of scaring her off.

She wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Kit and Em are crazy, and that friend of yours—Jessica? She’s like a car crash. You don’t belong here, Mel.”

“And where do I belong?”

“With some nice kid who’ll treat you like a queen and work his ass off to give you everything perfect for the rest of your life.” The words were practically a growl.

Her eyes widened. 

“What if I don’t want perfect?” 

“Too fucking bad, because that’s what you’re getting.”