Camille:
Rex Coleman, or Mountain as everyone knows him, is one of five beefy lumberjack brothers who own the local lumber mill. He’s a biker with too broad shoulders, charisma in spades, fake charm, and a sinful grin that promises long nights of unparalleled pleasure. I’m not falling for it a second time.
Mountain thinks I’ve forgotten what he did to me three years ago. That six-foot-five tattooed hunk of a man stomped on my pride and humiliated me in front of half the town. Am I holding a grudge? Hell yeah.
He’s the reason I left Raven’s Crest. I had to break free of the gossip and judgment. Now, I’ve gotten my life sorted. I won a television baking contest, and I’m starting my own brand of baking products that’ll soon be sold at major retailers. I live in L.A., where I’ve always dreamed. I’m happy.
All my plans are ruined when I get a phone call late one night while working on the set of my new commercial. My Granny is injured, and someone set her bakery on fire. I drop everything to rush back to her side, not counting on Rex Coleman and his savior complex.
I’m not staying here. I can’t.
But when an old feud emerges and I’m the target, I have to trust the one man I swore to never speak to again. Something is different this time. He’s grown more confident, protective, and downright irresistible. He says I’m his and that he’s going to prove it.
I’m not sure if I’ll stay alive long enough to find out. If there’s anyone who can keep me alive, it’s Mountain and his club. The Kings own this town. They protect it, and nobody f*cks with the Kings.
Property of Mountain can be read as a standalone. The KOAMC is a 1% motorcycle club, so expect violence, suspense, mature situations, and a little splash of horror. You’ll get a guaranteed HEA with no cheating. Property of Mountain is an opposites attract, forced proximity, grumpy/sunshine, enemies-to-lovers, overprotective alpha male biker romance with a paranormal twist. For best enjoyment, the series should be read in order.
Welcome to Raven's Crest, Ohio, a small town in the Midwest where cornfields stretch far into the horizon, church bells still ring every Sunday morning, and something wicked lurks in the shadows of the oak, buckeye, and maple trees. People still wave and smile, invite you in for a cup of coffee or tea, and share the best damn pie in the world (which is served at Tillie's). The crime rate is low since Scythe and his club protect the citizens of Raven's Crest, and the sheriff is Scythe's older brother, ensuring the citizens and the politicians obey the law. It's a place to put down roots. Even the crows agree.
But . . .if you come lookin' into those fields late at night, don't say you haven't been warned. There are rumors that the scarecrows watch over the town from every corner, and there's no escape if you've harmed anyone inside the sleepy town of Raven's Crest.
