Starting the Riot: Riot MC by Karen Renee

Title: Starting the Riot

Series: Riot MC #0.5

Author: Karen Renee

Genre: MC Romance

Release Date: April 28, 2020

Jackie Eastmon’s life changes after a brutal attack on her best friend. While getting Simone the help she needs, Jackie meets a rough, burly biker.

Henry “Volt” Adler, President of the Riot MC Jacksonville chapter, admires Jackie’s rarely found spunk and dedication to Simone. The timing is all wrong for him to pursue Jackie. He runs into her nearly two years later, and he will stop at nothing to make her his.

Jackie struggles with this bossy, alpha-male in her life. When she learns he knows who attacked Simone but hasn’t made them pay, she questions if he’s the man for her.

Upon the two-year anniversary of the attack, Simone attempts suicide, and Volt hates seeing Jacqueline hurting for her friend. He orders his brothers to make the attackers pay for what they did to Simone.

“Exactly,” he whispered. “Those fuckers aren’t going to confess. They’ve had years to get their stories straight. With that in mind, if I tell you who they are, what are you going to do with that info? Go off half-cocked and find yourself in the same fuckin’ shape, or God forbid, worse?”

I finally got out of his grip and stalked to the other side of the office. It took all my control to not cry with the amount of frustration coursing through my body. Hearing his footsteps approaching me, I turned and held my arms out to keep him back.

“I‒” My teeth clenched as I fought my extreme urge to argue with Volt.

Making matters worse, he was right. I would do something, and even if I didn’t think I was half-cocked, I probably would be.

I narrowed my gaze. “Barnes wouldn’t be half-”

His chuckle was sinister. “No, he’d go straight to jail, Jacqueline. Worse, it’d be a third strike.”

My brows furrowed. “Third strike? He‒”

Volt shook his head. “You don’t know his past. I’m not having that on my conscience.”

Again, he was right, but I couldn’t stop myself. “That’s if he gets caught.”

Volt laughed at that and it both pleased and annoyed me. I loved making him laugh, but I didn’t want him to know it.

Giving into my annoyance, I said, “I wasn’t being funny.”

“Yeah, and that wasn’t what I found funny. Your tone says you think you can keep him from getting caught.”

Jeepers! Was I that easy to read? I looked away from him, but his warm hand slid along my cheek pulling my gaze back to his.

“What was funny to me was how much you remind me of my little sister.”

Try as I might, I couldn’t keep my face from falling. I did not want to remind him of a sister, and certainly not a little one.

His voice was gruff when he said, “She’s dead. Almost five years now.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Me too.”

I fell silent again, wondering if that was why he was attracted to me. Because I brought back memories of a long-lost sister. Psych types like me went there even if it seemed strange to laypeople. We were all wired to be drawn to people who filled a void.

“Whatever you’re mulling over, Jacqueline, stop it,” Volt grumbled.

“What?”

He moved closer, wrapping an arm loose around my waist. “I was serious. We’ve begun. You say something in a way my sister would, is not me saying you’re replacing her. Wasn’t gonna be so blunt, but fuck it.

“I want inside your head. Inside your pants, and definitely inside your heart. My sister does not factor in that seeing as I’ve wanted those things with you since I first watched you pull into The Barnes parking lot.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

He leaned in and kissed me. This one was gentle, but deliciously wet.

Karen Renee is the author of the Riot MC Series. She has wanted to be a writer from a very early age, and she’s finally bringing that dream to life. She has worked in advertising, banking, and local television media research. She is a proud wife and mother, and a Jacksonville native. When she’s not at the soccer field or cooking, you can find her at her local library, the grocery store, in her car jamming out to some tunes, or hibernating while she writes and/or reads books.