Instalove freebie book blast, plus sneaky peek! 🥳

🥳Hi there! It’s busy over here, with a zero penny/99¢ instalove book blast and a sneaky peek at Ex-Military Biker’s Bride, which releases next week.

🚁 Time for a sneaky peek at Lucky, the daredevil pilot, and his future bride in the Seven Brides for Seven Bikers series.

Prologue - Lucky
The woman is the last one to board the jet.
I’m adjusting the route in my head. The descent into Rotmere’s strip at the Lodge can be tricky, with crosswinds that make the plane bob around like a cork in water. It doesn’t worry me, but the corporation wants their precious cargo to be jostled as little as possible.

Behind me, the cabin fills with suited men who call each other by their last name. They come aboard in coats that cost more than my monthly salary, most of them already drunk. By Sunday night every single one of these bastards will have given the Lodge something they can never get back.

They have no idea what’s going to happen, but I do.

One of the suits is familiar from a big television show I remember watching once. He salutes me when he boards and calls me boss, and I flash him the servile grin they pay for. I mentally catalog the dark circles under his eyes and wedding ring. Doc wants all the details in my report, no matter how trivial they seem.

Then she arrives.

I put a hand down for her bag. She tilts her head back to meet my gaze at me, and all the chatter in my head flatlines.

She has chestnut-brown hair pinned up in a neat ponytail, with a piece starting to escape. Under her carefully applied makeup, a sprinkle of freckles scatters across her nose. She’s an outdoor girl, I’d wager. Pink, soft lips. Her dark gray coat is minimal, but that curvy body underneath is a knockout. No wedding ring. She puts a little, cold hand in mine to come up the step, and a spark of electricity runs up my arm and down my spine.

F*ck.

“Thank you,” she says, a flush spreading across her cheeks.

“Ma'am.”

I have to tell myself to let go of her hand. Knowing what’s ahead in that nest of vipers masquerading as the Lodge, makes me want to throw her over my shoulder and get the hell out of here.

The manifest has her down as Lily Torgan. I get the door secured, then sit down with my c*ck hard, and try not to think about her.

She takes a seat behind the wing and turns down the flight attendant’s offer of champagne.

I twist in my seat to glance behind me once we’re into the journey. She takes a few photos from the window, but they’re not of the scenic mountain peaks. It looks like she’s snapping the dirt road climbing into the trees. She catches me looking, brings her phone up, and takes a photo of the mountain.

Who the hell are you, Lily Torgan?

I put the wheels down on the strip softly enough that the men behind me don’t even pause their conversation and taxi in. I take her hand to help her down the steps and her fingers are warmer now.

The suits stay for the whole weekend, but she doesn’t.

She’s back out on the strip at dusk with a different expression. Just her. No flight attendant, so whoever she is, she’s not important enough for Rotmere to lay on all their usual perks. She doesn’t wait for me to help her up the steps, climbing straight inside like she can’t get off the strip fast enough.

I hand her a headset once she’s inside the plane. Her fingers brush mine and I suck in my breath. There it is again, that electric charge that flows straight down to my groin.

She chooses the cockpit jump seat, where the attendant usually sits, right near mine. I get us turned and lined up on muscle memory, because the part of my brain that does the flying is suffering from the lack of blood flow. Once we’re up in the air, her voice is warm and low in the headset.

“You're very calm,” she says.

“It’s all an act. Can’t you see my hand?” I hold it out, making it tremble.

She laughs. The sound is like a bell pealing, or some fairy-tale shit. I immediately want to make her laugh, just to hear it again.

The cockpit is small. Her scent is a fresh green perfume, like rain and flowers, and it suits her perfectly. We're out over the ridge with the sunset blazing red and orange when she starts asking questions.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what's above the lodge. The cabins, I mean.”

I keep my eyes fixed outside. “It’s overflow. Big weekends, they sometimes run out of rooms.”

“There were lots of vehicles up there.”

“Yeah, that’s staff."

“They stay there too?”

“Shift change.” I try to sound bored. “You aren’t staying the weekend?”

“No.”

“How come?” I shouldn’t be asking a guest, but I’m genuinely curious.

“I’m an executive assistant. They need me back in the city.”

“They work you hard?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

I want her so badly in that moment that I have to tell myself to loosen my grip on the yoke and fly the damn airplane.

The city strip’s beacon comes up out of the dark and I set us down. Shut off, tell her to sit tight, and do my walk-around with a flashlight. When I climb back up she's holding my clipboard.

“It slid.” She hands it over. “Uh… I was trying to keep it from going under the seat.”

“Appreciate it.”

I walk her across to her rental car.
She gets her keys out while I put a hand on the roof above her head, boxing her in a little. I don't move it, and she doesn't move away or try to duck out from under it. She looks up at me, a stray lock of hair escaping her ponytail. I ball my hands into fists, resisting the urge to stroke it back into place.

I’m meant to do and say nothing. Prez put me on that strip undercover to fly people in, get the intel and keep my mouth shut. I take a card out of my jacket and hold it out instead.

“This is the number for the charter line. Day or night, somebody will pick it up.”

She takes it, turning it over like there'll be something written on the back.

“Why?”

“Don't go up there on your own.”

Her face is blank. “To the Lodge?”

“Yep.”

“But it’s just a fancy hotel and spa?”

“Sure it is.”

She blinks twice, then gets in her car. Standing there, I watch her car drive away until her taillights disappear in the dark.

Later, once I’m back in High Vale, I drive back to the clubhouse, putting tonight's report in order in my head before I write it up.

Lily Torgan isn’t her real name.

I’d make a bet on it.

Have a wonderful weekend!

🩷 Jessa xx

✨ P.S. End of August/beginning of September gives me that back-to-school feeling, so I’ve been attempting to get more organized. This is about how well it’s going so far… I am easily distracted. Any decluttering or organization tips… I’m here for them!