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Nikita's Dark Romance Books

Coyote (EBOOK)

Coyote (EBOOK)

Regular price $5.99 USD
Regular price Sale price $5.99 USD
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EBOOK. A Hell’s Jury MC romance novel by USA Today Bestselling Author Nikita Slater.

Coyote... biding my time until I'm ready to strike.

I’m walking a tightrope between what the world sees and who I really am. I’m waiting for the day I can release my boiling rage and annihilate my father. In the meantime, I burn with guilt and shame over my inaction.

Then I meet her, Bryce, the catalyst for uncaging the monster inside. I killed a man for her for reasons I can’t understand. And how does she repay me? By bringing a horrific past with her that reveals my secrets and unleashes my fury.

It’s too soon, but I have no choice. I’ll destroy the world to keep her safe, even if that means losing myself in the process.

Bryce... I have a secret that could get everyone around me killed.

I’m walking a tightrope between what the world sees and who I really am. I’m waiting for the day I can emerge from my self-imposed prison and return to the light. In the meantime, I burn with guilt and shame over my actions.

Then I meet him, Coyote. I am the catalyst for uncaging his monster. He killed a man for me for reasons I can’t understand. And how do I repay him? By bringing a horrific past with me that reveals his secrets and unleashes his fury.

It’s too soon for us, but we have no choice. He’ll destroy the world to keep me safe and I’ll destroy the world if I lose him.

Coyote is the second book in the Hell’s Jury MC series. Each book in the series is completely standalone and can be read in any order. Coyote is a dark romance with scenes of sexuality and violence. Please read with caution.

THIS EBOOK WILL BE DELIVERED INSTANTLY BY EMAIL BY BOOKFUNNEL. Or you can find it on other retailers HERE.

FAQ: HOW WILL I GET MY EBOOK?

Ebooks are delivered instantly by link in your confirmation email (and as a backup, also by email from our delivery partner, Bookfunnel).

FAQ: HOW DO I READ MY EBOOK?

You can read the ebooks on any ereader (Amazon, Kobo, Nook), your tablet, phone, computer, and/or in the free Bookfunnel app.

READ A SAMPLE

I wait for the guy to pull the trigger. If he’s expecting me to beg, he’ll be disappointed. Begging rarely influences the result, especially when it comes to violence.
Instead of the bullet I’ve braced myself for, he walks up to me, presses the gun into my ribs, then rips off my balaclava. “You’ve really fucked up my night,” he says in a dead voice that slides through my veins like ice water. His intense blue eyes stare into mine, cold and unforgiving. I realize I was wrong about my ability to suppress fear.
I swallow, then clear my throat. “Sorry about that.”
His lips tip up, but he’s not amused. His gaze doesn’t waver from mine as he reaches out and takes a lock of my hair, pulls it towards him and inhales.
Everything inside me freezes as demons try to claw their way out from the box that I’ve locked down tight. If they escape, they’ll destroy my soul and I’ll lose the woman I’ve so carefully constructed.
“Don’t,” I demand as I knock his hand away.
He doesn’t react as he hands me the balaclava. “Put it back on.”
It’s a life vest for me, the safety of darkness, and I cover my head, feeling secure inside it. Stupidly.
Then he does something that outrages me. He fucking turns his back on me as if I have no power to hurt him. I hold my breath as he walks across the room and yanks a cord attached to a floor lamp out of its socket.
I tense, getting ready to run.
“Don’t.” His back is still turned, but the warning in his voice promises death.
I freeze as he snaps the cord from the lamp, then returns to me. “Turn around.”
I blow out a breath as I think about what to do. I’m fully aware my fight or flight response is one bad idea away from defending myself.
I’ve hesitated too long as he lightly grips my shoulder and turns me so I’m facing away. He wraps the cord around my wrists and then yanks me backwards into his hard chest. “We’re going outside.” His words slide over me like melting ice. “You’re going to walk in front of me without speaking, without struggling or trying to run away.”
It’s an expectation, not a warning or command.
“And then?” I whisper.
“I’m going to lock you in my van and come back to clean up your fucking mess. Keep your mouth shut and be grateful you’re still breathing.”

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