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BLOG TOUR ~ Ignite by Drew Elyse

 


 

 


Once a Disciple, forever a Disciple.


Ace has been keeping secrets, and not just from his club brothers.
Secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.
All of his are about to be revealed,
whether he’s ready to face them or not.

A Disciple will fight like a savage—even against his past.

When Quinn waltzes into the Disciples’ clubhouse,
she’s only after one thing—and it isn’t Ace.
She wants closure, an end to what they started so long ago.
But with the heat exploding, Ace and Quinn are far from over.

When this biker is forced to confront his past, everything will ignite.


An hour or two after the library opened, I was going over an interlibrary loan order when I looked up to see a face less than two feet from mine.
“Jesus!” I cried on a whisper I only managed due to years of practice.
Max, my unrepentant best friend, just grinned at me, swirling a piece of her blonde hair around a finger.
“What’s the matter with you? Sneaking up on people is a good way to get yourself hurt,” I informed her.
She shrugged. “I ever see you holding a weapon, I might reconsider my tactics.”
“A heavy book can do some damage,” I pointed out. We were in the reference section, after all.
“And you’d sooner throw yourself at me than any of the books in this library,” she replied.
Well, she wasn’t wrong.
“Shouldn’t you be working?” I changed subjects. Max was a barista at a local coffee shop. She joked about it being a good filler job until she married rich and never had to work again. At least I tried to chalk it up as a joke, but I wasn’t always so sure.
“I’m on lunch.”
“Your lunch is half an hour.”
“And you’re avoiding the subject,” she chastised.
“There’s a point to this sneak attack?”
“Um…meeting with the P.I. this morning? Info on He Who Shall Not Be Named? Ring a bell?”
“It’s He Who Must Not Be Named,” I corrected.
She rolled her eyes. “Jack tries to kill all the muggle-borns, he can get upgraded to ‘must’. Until then, we’ll stick with ‘shall’.”
That was a fair point.
I dropped my eyes to my computer and hit send on the order to the Portland Public Library.
“So, what? You’re just going to ignore me?” she demanded.
I sighed before meeting her blue eyes. “I’ve got an address.”
Her face showed her glee. Why she was enjoying this saga so much, I had no idea. “Where is he?”
“A town called Hoffman,” I explained. “It’s four hours northeast.”
Letting her stew on that for a second, I grabbed the return cart and wheeled it around the desk. A pretty frequent visitor when I was working, Max fell right into step with me as I went to re-shelve.
“Wait. He’s still in Oregon?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Four hours away? That’s it?”
“Four hours,” I repeated.
“What a smarmy motherfucker.”
There was a time when I would have disagreed with her. There was even a time I had disagreed with her, but I’d learned my lesson the hard way. Even now, I couldn’t bring myself to agree out loud.
“Are you going tomorrow?” Max asked after a minute of silence.
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. I couldn’t let myself hesitate—not out loud and not in my own head. If I did, I would chicken out. It was time. I needed this. I needed to finally confront him once and for all.
“Good for you,” Max said, her voice uncharacteristically serious—not that Max couldn’t have a serious conversation, just that her personality tended to bubble up through everything. She was loud, spirited, excitable. I rarely heard her speak in that low, almost grave tone.
I really, really hoped she was right.
“You’ll call me after you see him?” she inquired.
I sighed again, knowing I was bound to get a reaction from this. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to see him right away. It might take some time.”
“Why? You said you had his address.”
“Apparently he joined a motorcycle club,” I told her, watching her jaw unhinge. “The place he’s living belongs to them, so I’m not sure I’ll be let in if he doesn’t want to see me.”
“Holy shit,” she muttered, still gaping. “You’re serious?”
“Based on the way the investigator tried to warn me from going up there, I’m going with he was telling the truth.”
“Are you sure you want to do this alone? I can come with you,” she offered, an idea probably at least as much about not wanting to miss the adventure as it was about being a loving, supportive friend.
“Really? You and what time off?” I reminded her.
She scrunched her nose. “Admittedly, his highness told me if I bail on any more days this month, I shouldn’t bother coming back in.”
“His highness” was Max’s name for her manager. The owner of the coffee shop was never there or involved in anything employee-related. That was all Marcus. The way Max told it, Marcus was a terror with a dictator complex. I took this with a grain of salt seeing as just two weeks ago, Max told me she wasn’t going into work at all because saw a Kate Spade bag online she wanted. My suggestion that she just order it off the website or at least wait until after work to hit the mall had fallen on deaf ears.
“I’ll be fine, promise,” I assured her.
“Okay, but if I need to drive up to wherever the fuck and junk punch him, you just let me know.”
I laughed, and couldn’t help but think how lucky I was to have her. Without Max, I never would have gotten the nerve to finally face him.
Now, I just had to make sure I didn’t lose my nerve before I made it to Hoffman.




 
Drew Elyse spends her days trying to convince the world that she is, in fact, a Disney Princess, and her nights writing tear-jerking and smutty romance novels. Her debut novel, Dissonance, released in August of 2014.

When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found over-analyzing every line of a book, binge watching a series on Netflix, doing strange vocal warm ups before singing a variety of music styles, or screaming at the TV during a Chicago Blackhawks game.

A graduate of Loyola University Chicago with a BA in English, she still lives in Chicago, IL where she was born and raised with her boyfriend and her prima donna pet rabbit, Lola.

 

Author Links


 

NEW RELEASE ~ Ignite (Savage Disciples MC) by Drew Elyse

 

 

 


Once a Disciple, forever a Disciple.


Ace has been keeping secrets, and not just from his club brothers.
Secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.
All of his are about to be revealed, whether he’s ready to face them or not.

A Disciple will fight like a savage—even against his past.

When Quinn waltzes into the Disciples’ clubhouse, she’s only after one thing—and it isn’t Ace.
She wants closure, an end to what they started so long ago.
But with the heat exploding, Ace and Quinn are far from over.

When this biker is forced to confront his past, everything will ignite.



Quinn

After our ride, I was silently thrilled Ace brought us back to the house. Max was around, and I didn’t want to be a crappy friend who ditched her after she came all that way just to check on me.
When we walked in, Max and Ham were both there. I had no idea what to make of that, but with both the guys hanging around, I couldn’t ask. Instead, I was stuck agreeing to the invitation for us to order in pizza with them and chill.
“What on it?” Ham asked as Ace and I settled onto one of the couches.
“Pineapple,” Max responded.
Ham pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tell me you’re fuckin’ with me, babe,” he demanded.
She wasn’t. I knew this. In all our years of friendship, we’d never actually shared a pizza. It always came down to ordering two so I didn’t have to choke down the gross concoction she called pizza toppings.
“Just wait,” I warned Ham.
“What the fuck could be worse than pineapple on pizza?” Ace asked.
I looked at Max. “Tell them,” I said with a flick of my wrist, indicating she proceed.
“I like pineapple, olives, green pepper, and some kind of meat, but I’ll take whatever,” she stated, unabashed.
Ham blinked, stared at her, then blinked again. It seemed to drag out for a solid minute. Then he found the response of, “That’s the most disgusting fucking pizza order I’ve ever heard.”
“It’s good!” Max insisted.
“Toots, in what universe do pineapple and marinara go together?”
Did he just call her toots? He totally did. And it wasn’t in a funny, fifties throwback way. He just called her that by rote.
“Oh, yeah. I forgot. I also don’t get sauce on it,” Max enlightened him.
“You get sauceless, pineapple, olive, green pepper, and mystery meat pizza?” Ham verified.
“Yep.”
Ham looked at me with what seemed to be a bit of concern on his face. “Where the hell did you find her?”
I laughed. “We were roommates in college. Randomly put together freshman year.”
He looked between us, then smiled in a way I could only describe as salacious.
“Damn, I am getting a beautiful picture right now,” he said.
I didn’t inform him the actual picture wasn’t all that great. Mostly, we sat around in sweatpants studying or watching Netflix. Why all men thought women being alone together meant the clothes just disappeared, I did not know. If I had to guess, I would probably blame porn.
“Before you start picturing it, I was religious about making sure there was a sock on the door and a warning text, and Quinn heeded both every time,” Max informed him.
That was true. Max gave me as much warning as she could manage before bringing guys to our room, and I was fortunate enough to never accidentally miss any of those warnings and walk in on something I did not want to see.
“Not enough to kill the dream,” Ham muttered.
“Unless she’s held out on me, I’m pretty sure there was no lesbian experimentation either,” Ace added. I gasped and slapped his shoulder.
“Not in the room anyway,” Max muttered.
I gasped again. “Seriously? You never told me that!”
She shrugged. “It was one time at a party. A bunch of frat guys dared us to make out. Nothing special. She was a good kisser, though.”
Ham cursed in a way that made it clear her words offered a mix of pain and pleasure.
“It’s why I let her slide into second base before I shut it down,” Max went on.
“Okay!” I cut in. “How about we get back to the pizza?”
“Buzzkill,” Ham said under his breath.
“Don’t worry,” Max assured quietly, but not quietly enough, “I’ll tell you the whole story later if you’re good.”
“Baby, I can be as good as you fuckin’ want.”
Turning to Ace, I spoke soft enough the other wouldn’t hear. “I don’t think I want to eat meals with the two of them ever again.”
“Noted,” he replied, grinning at my discomfort.
Jerk.
“How insistent are you on the pineapple thing?” Ace asked then, getting Ham and Max’s attention back on us.
“Completely,” she and I both answered—her firm, me resigned.
“No way in fuck I’m eating pineapple on fuckin’ pizza with no sauce,” Ham stated. I was pretty sure that was seconded by me and Ace without asking. He went on. “Not eatin’ pineapple at all.”
“Why not?” Max asked. “It’s good for you. And guys really should.”
“Why?” I had the distinct sense I would regret the question as soon as the word left my mouth.
“Because it’s supposed to make their cum taste sweeter.”
Good Lord. I was right. I didn’t want to know.
“Can we please just order food?” I asked, my face on fire.
Max ended up with a pizza—if you could call her monstrosity that—of her own, while Ham, Ace, and I shared a classic pepperoni.
We’d all finished our meals, with only Max’s pizza having any leftovers, when Daz came striding in.
“Fuck yeah, pizza!” he exclaimed.
He flipped open the box for the extra large the guys had destroyed with only a little help from me, then moved to Max’s, looking at it for a second before asking, “What’s on this?”
We answered, and he stood there for a long moment before shrugging and taking a slice.
“You’re gonna eat that shit?” Ham asked.
“Still food. Besides, pineapple’s supposed to make your cum taste better,” he replied.
“See?” Max cried.
“We both need new friends,” I declared, and Ace laughed. “I’m only kind of joking,” I informed him.
“Think we’re stuck with the ones we’ve got,” he replied, just as Max shouted, “Bitch, you’re stuck with me!”
“So much for being able to pick your friends.”
Ace pulled me in close to his side, until I had no choice but to settle my head against his shoulder. As he did, I watched Max’s face get soft.
Maybe my best friend wasn’t so bad after all.

 



 


 

Drew Elyse spends her days trying to convince the world that she is, in fact, a Disney Princess, and her nights writing tear-jerking and smutty romance novels. Her debut novel, Dissonance, released in August of 2014.

When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found over-analyzing every line of a book, binge watching a series on Netflix, doing strange vocal warm ups before singing a variety of music styles, or screaming at the TV during a Chicago Blackhawks game.

A graduate of Loyola University Chicago with a BA in English, she still lives in Chicago, IL where she was born and raised with her boyfriend and her prima donna pet rabbit, Lola.

 

Author Links



 

CHAPTER REVEAL ~ Engage by Drew Elyse.

 


Coming October 27th

Add to Goodreads now

 

 

Once a Disciple, forever a Disciple.

They came for her in the night.
When she wakes, she’s in a cell.
She has no idea if it will help, but it is the only option she has:
She tells them she belongs to the Savage Disciples MC.

A Disciple will fight like a savage when it counts.

Years ago, he lost everything.
Now, the club is the only thing Jager allows himself to care about.
Nothing matters but his Savage Disciple brothers.
At least, until she arrives and he has a decision to make.

This biker has no idea what choosing to engage could mean to a Disciple’s daughter.

 

 


Prologue

Jager


The sound wasn’t what woke me. I had no idea why I’d stirred in the middle of the night. Usually, I was a sound sleeper.
No, the sound came after I’d already started to wake. I lost the seconds I had trying to place it. It came from the hallway, a mix of solid knocking and rattling.
A picture frame, the answer came to me.
It was only that knowledge that had me moving. There was no reason for any of the frames I had hanging in the hall to make that sound. Not unless…
The door to my room flew open. There were men there, three of them. I didn’t waste time staring. Instead, I scrambled to the side of the bed. I just had to get to the nightstand. There was a gun in the drawer—the gun Dad had taught me to shoot and insisted I have.
I got the drawer open, but never reached my only saving grace. One of the men was on me, grabbing me around the chest and hauling me backward. I fought. I kicked and hit at him, my training lost and raw instinct to fight or die kicking in. Another man came close, and I screamed with all I had.
I tried to fight him back, both legs kicking out, but his partner turned me. I felt the sharp prick at my arm. It didn’t take long. Even as I continued to scream, to try to break away, darkness took over the edges of my vision, closing in until there was nothing left.

When I woke, I was facing a wall covered in its own layer of dirt, broken up only by a rust-colored track of water from a leak above.
Where was I?
I tried to remember, tried to fight the fog to grasp onto anything that would tell me how I ended up in such a place.
I was home, in my room. I’d gone to bed…
The picture frame.
Like a dam breaking, it came back. The men, fighting them off, losing consciousness.
My head swam, my vision hazy. I had to figure out where I was, how to get out of here. I moved, feeling an ache like I had never known through every muscle. Then, a stinging pain in my arm. I looked there, seeing the IV. I followed the cord from my arm to a bag hanging on the wall above my head.
It was only then I noticed I wasn’t alone.
I shot to sitting, jerking back to the wall. But what I saw wasn’t a threat. What I saw was three women, all of them frail, malnourished, and dirty. To my left were iron bars. We were in a cell, me and those women. Soon, I would look like they did.
“Where are we?” I found the voice to ask. My throat was dry. So much so, it hurt to speak. That was when I noted how my skin felt like I hadn’t showered in days.
Had it been days?
“We don’t know,” one—she looked to be the oldest—answered. Her voice sounded as rough as mine. When was the last time they’d been given water?
“How…how did we—”
She shook her head sadly. Beneath the grime, I realized she was, in fact, the oldest—maybe five years older than me, no more. Her dark hair was long, matted, her skin pale, her eyes flat.
“Sometimes, they take us, sometimes…” she trailed off, looking to her side. I followed her gaze to the woman next to her. She was blonde like me, and looked to be about my age from what I could see of her face as she peered over her knees. “Sometimes, we are sold to them.”
Oh God.
My eyes moved past the blonde, terrified someone had given her over to this fate. What I saw hit me harder than anything I had experienced since I’d woken up.
The last woman was no woman at all. She was just a girl. She had light brown hair that needed washing weeks ago. Her cheeks were sunken in. She had been down here a while.
“How old are you?” I couldn’t help but ask.
She didn’t talk, just hid her face behind her hands, the woman who had spoken to me already answered for her.
“Fifteen.”
Fifteen. She was still a child. What were they doing with a child?
What were they doing with any of us?

It was hours before the man came down the hall, appearing in front of our cell. I’d long since dealt with the IV. I didn’t have the finesse to pull the needle free without it tugging and scratching beneath the surface, but the discomfort was worth it when I watched a small flood of whatever they were injecting me with escape. Tricia, the woman who had been talking to me since I woke, told me it was a sedative mix. If I left the IV alone, I’d go back under. I’d already been there for three days. How long I’d arrived after they’d taken me was anyone’s guess. The last thing I wanted was to lose any more time in this place.
Tricia also told me the names of the others. Katia, the blonde, and Sarah, the young girl.
“I’ve been here about two months, I think,” she explained. “Sometimes it can get hard to track how long it’s been. They come once a day with food and water. That’s the only real way to tell time down here.” There was something in her expression when she mentioned the provisions they were given, something disgustingly similar to longing.
“But why are we here?” I asked, not even sure if I expected her to have an answer.
She didn’t respond, but I could see in her face that she did know.
I met her eyes and repeated, “Why are we here?”
Her gaze turned sympathetic, as if she weren’t down here as well, as if she hadn’t been here far longer than I had. She felt bad for me because whatever she was going to share was going to make this whole nightmare worse.
“They intend to sell us.”
Sell us. I wouldn’t even let my mind wander to what that might mean. I forced myself to seal off thoughts of who would want to buy us. I had to keep myself together. Letting my mind go there was not the way to do it.
After that, there wasn’t much to say.
Then, the man came to the cell. He was brutish, large, and outright intimidating. He didn’t say a thing as he approached the metal bars holding us captive. He simply inspected the nearly empty IV bag, seeing I’d freed myself from the line attached to it.
I had no idea if what I was about to do was stupid—whether it would get me punished, hurt, or worse. I just knew where I was was about as bad as it could get. I had to try something.
“There’s a motorcycle club, in Hoffman, Oregon. They’ll buy me. They’ll pay whatever you ask,” I practically shouted at him.
He stared at me, not responding.
“The Savage Disciples. They’ll buy me.”
He walked away without a word.

 




 

Drew Elyse spends her days trying to convince the world that she is, in fact, a Disney Princess, and her nights writing tear-jerking and smutty romance novels. Her debut novel, Dissonance, released in August of 2014.

When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found over-analyzing every line of a book, binge watching a series on Netflix, doing strange vocal warm ups before singing a variety of music styles, or screaming at the TV during a Chicago Blackhawks game.

A graduate of Loyola University Chicago with a BA in English, she still lives in Chicago, IL where she was born and raised with her boyfriend and her prima donna pet rabbit, Lola.

 



 
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