Cerberus MC Tennessee Chapter Series by Marie James – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Cerberus MC Tennessee Chapter Series by Marie James – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Thu, 17 Apr 2025 13:12:01 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Cerberus MC Tennessee Chapter Series by Marie James – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Jersey (Cerberus MC Tennessee Chapter #4) Read Online Marie James http://www.ilovenovels.com/jersey-cerberus-mc-tennessee-chapter-4-read-online-marie-james Thu, 17 Apr 2025 13:12:01 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/jersey-cerberus-mc-tennessee-chapter-4-read-online-marie-james Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Biker, MC, Suspense Authors: Marie James Series: Cerberus MC Tennessee Chapter Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)

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Same story, different day.

That seems to be the theme of my life.

My new job with Cerberus is no different than the one I left before working for ICE.

People always blur together, nothing special about any of them.

Of course, my luck runs out when I'm assigned to an establishment that caters to peoples' deepest fantasies.

There should be nothing special about the woman. Her lack of clothes is no different than most of the other people there.

Her eyes following me isn't new. People tend to look in my direction when I walk into a room.

Yet, I find myself incapable of looking away from her.

I never expected the woman strapped to the cross to also be the children's counselor who shows up to help a teammate's son.

It would be my luck that the one woman who made me look twice is also off-limits

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

Jersey

I'd think many years of working in the shadows and staying on the edge of existence would ensure I grew accustomed to low-lit settings, but more often than not, all it does is give me a headache. It's a combination of my body's insistence to get up early no matter how late I stay up the night before and the pulse of the music flowing through speakers hidden all over the dark room. Whatever is causing the pain is just proof that I'm clearly no longer in my prime, and that might be the hardest pill of all to swallow.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, rolling my head in a circular motion, attempting to ease the tension in my shoulders. My left trapezoid has had a fairly significant burn in it for the last couple of days. Even with everything that's going on around me, I can't seem to stop focusing on it. I don't know if the distraction is from boredom or if the pain is more significant than I want to consider.

"Can I refresh your drink?"

I look up at the woman and although I don't feel it, I give her a simple smile. Flirting comes easily for me, and it always has.

Maybe most men in my situation would get an eyeful. Why else would she be fully naked in a sex club, wearing only a collar attached to a slinky belly chain? She's there to look at. Touching is off the table, but I'd never attempt it. I don't even want to. The lack of temptation I feel is one of the reasons I'm probably the perfect guy for a job like this.

I stopped internalizing how I felt or the lack of feelings I had about women long ago. I know exactly what's wrong with me, why an obviously pretty woman doesn't do a damn thing for me.

Instead of letting my eyes rake down the length of her luscious body, I keep my eyes locked on hers. Just as I assumed it would, the lack of attention to her body causes her more unease than if I had sat here salivating or lusting after her. It's not something she's used to. Her body doesn't distract me, and it seems that's not something she encounters often here.

"I think this one is fine," I tell her with another quick smile as I lift the drink in my hand and make an effort to take a sip. "Thank you."

"Let me know if you need anything," she says before scurrying away, glancing over her shoulder just before slipping into the darkness. Her reaction makes me wonder if she's worried I'll chase after her, despite the rules in place. It makes me wonder if she's often victimized, even though her job description says she won't have to endure such things.

There is no telling what happens to people here against their will, and that's the main reason why I'm sitting on this sofa observing.

My goal tonight is not to make anyone feel uncomfortable. I'm not here for entertainment purposes.

This is work, a job I was handed by my boss, Hemlock, the president of the Gatlinburg chapter of the Cerberus MC. A club I've only been a member of for a few short weeks. I'm sure Hemlock has read my file, but he hasn't cornered me and demanded the details.

I have no plans to offer up information on my past, but Kincaid, the president of the founding chapter of Cerberus back in New Mexico, had to ask the questions when I was being vetted for the organization. Going in, I knew I'd have to discuss every life experience, even the things that happened while I was working for ICE. What I didn't realize was how painful it would be to talk about those things, considering I've avoided that conversation for so long.

I clear my throat and take another sip of my drink, although I feel like slamming it back to numb that part of me that is threatening to come back to life.

I'm here to find signs of trafficked women or determine if people who work at the club might have a less-than-legal side menu that caters to more than just your run-of-the-mill BDSM activities.

We've sat on this club once before, and although we didn't find any trafficking, we were able to get the owner arrested on tax evasion. The club was down for less than a week before someone else bought it and reopened for business.

So here I am once again.

I blow a puff of air past my lips, letting it inflate my cheeks before allowing it to escape. I'm just... bored.

Maybe one of the other guys would have a better time here. I can count several women who would love to try to wipe the sneer off Nyx's face, and I spotted one pixie-like thing who looked like she would give our ginger giant Zeus a run for his money.

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Ace (Cerberus MC Tennessee Chapter #2) Read Online Marie James http://www.ilovenovels.com/ace-cerberus-mc-tennessee-chapter-2-read-online-marie-james Mon, 21 Oct 2024 11:27:49 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/ace-cerberus-mc-tennessee-chapter-2-read-online-marie-james Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, MC Authors: Marie James Series: Cerberus MC Tennessee Chapter Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >100

It’s not hard to see how weak love makes a man.
He watched that love flow from his best friend’s body, the crimson flowing out around him like a river.
If love leaves you on the business end of a knife, then he has no interest.
And that’s how Eddie “Ace” Yarrow has lived his life in the last ten years: independent and alone.
But honestly, it goes back further than that.
He left Cerberus over thirty years ago because he wanted to make a difference closer to home.
And although he made great strides in his career, a man always tends to go back to his roots.
His forced vacation from ICE has left him working a job for Cerberus.
Cora Preston isn’t trying to make his life harder, but she doesn’t understand why they’re not getting results.
Cerberus is taking too long to find her missing sister, and inserting herself into the investigation is her only choice.
The two butt heads more than once, and neither of them can predict just how close together this investigation is going to bring them.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

Ace

"Is he going to live?" Mike asks the second I walk into the living room of the house ICE has us in while working these cases with the Cerberus MC.

"It won't be the stab wound that kills him," I mutter as I grab a bottle of water from the fridge before plopping down on the sofa opposite the one Mike is sitting on.

We hadn't crossed paths in a few days, and a lot has happened since New Year's Eve.

"Again with this shit?" Mike groans, leaning his head back on the couch and looking up at the ceiling as if there are answers to unspoken questions there.

"Explain to me why some people just can't get laid without falling in love?" I challenge. "He's no different from the rest of them. A damsel in distress is all it takes to make even the hardest men turn soft and fucking gooey. I thought he'd be different. They never are."

"It's not the end of the world."

"It could be," I argue.

Plenty of good men have been taken down because of this concept of love and thinking that's all that matters, but I've seen time and again how destructive even the idea of it can be.

"This new group was supposed to be different. They were solid hard-asses that see nothing but the job in front of them. I blame Hemlock's brief stay in New Mexico. He clearly drank whatever was in the fucking water over there. He couldn't make it through one fucking case before he got heart eyes and started seeing rainbows and damn butterflies and shit."

Mike chuckles, and I know he might be getting a little frustrated over the number of times we've had to have these conversations.

"I fully understand why you see life through this broken lens, man, but most people aren't built to be alone. Isn't it human nature?"

I side-eye the man, wondering just by his tone if he isn't thinking of someone special.

I shake my head. "It's biological. It's attraction and that animalistic need to mate, nothing else. Humans are just stupid and they can't separate the two."

I take a long drink of my water, wondering how so many people get it all wrong.

"Maybe you just haven't found the one yet," he argues.

"The one?" I scoff. "I'm fifty-nine years old. The one doesn't exist."

"You're just not looking hard enough."

"I'm not looking at all," I counter. "If someone told me this so-called soulmate was right around the corner, I'd turn and book it in the opposite direction. I've got no need for distractions and complications. They're a waste of time, and, in our field of work, they're dangerous."

I know that more than he does, probably, but I wouldn't wish my experiences and failures on anyone. The demons of regret are hard to shoulder a lot of the time.

"So you're saying Hemlock took a wrong turn? I've met the guy. I don't think he was looking either."

"I don't know what happened with him, honestly. I met Zara, put myself in her path to try and figure out what was so appealing. I mean, the woman is a knockout, but burning a career over her? I just can't see it."

"I don't think it would ever happen while you're working. Knowing your ass, you'll fall in love when you're in a nursing home or on your deathbed. I think you'll regret not jumping on the train sooner."

I open my mouth to argue, but there's a knock on the front door.

Mike and I both look at each other, both our heads shaking to confirm that we aren't expecting anyone. Each of us pulls out a firearm as I cautiously make my way to the door. You can never be too safe in this day and age, especially when we both have a lot of irons in the fire and have such a dangerous job. Getting lax and distracted is what can get you killed.

Relief washes over me when I look through the peephole, smiling when Kincaid, founder and president of the New Mexico Cerberus chapter, gives me a little wave as if he can sense me on the other side of the door.

"I expected you sooner," I say when I pull open the door. The man never did know when to leave things alone. He's more likely to want to sit down and treat a situation like a therapy session, not wanting anyone in any given situation to walk away feeling like they were mistreated. I know exactly why he's here, and, honestly, I knew we'd have a conversation like this at some point while trying to get this endeavor off the ground. I'd just hoped it wouldn't have had to come so damn soon.

Kincaid holds his hand out, and I don't hesitate to shake it as he steps into the house.

Once upon a time, I, too, was a Cerberus member. It feels like a lifetime ago, and I've always wondered how things would've turned out if I hadn't left. I've spent many years wishing things were different, wondering which decision I made that took me down the path I ended up on. So many things could've been different, but living in the what-could've-been is dangerous, and deadly if I let them get too tight of a hold on me.

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Hemlock (Cerberus MC Tennessee Chapter #1) Read Online Marie James http://www.ilovenovels.com/hemlock-cerberus-mc-tennessee-chapter-1-read-online-marie-james Thu, 22 Aug 2024 20:05:28 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/hemlock-cerberus-mc-tennessee-chapter-1-read-online-marie-james Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Biker, Erotic, MC Authors: Marie James Series: Cerberus MC Tennessee Chapter Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >87

I might be the first man to join the Cerberus MC and not love it.
Instead of leaving, I bide my time, knowing that I burn every bridge I cross.
When an opportunity plucks me from the desert of New Mexico and transplants me in East Tennessee I feel a little better about the path my life has taken.
The new job isn’t as solitary as I expected it to be.
Instead of doing reconnaissance alone I’m stuck sitting at a bar, trying to determine if they’re using the business as a human trafficking hub.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Prologue

Hemlock

Warmth covers my hands, and I know for most people the deep red staining them and the scent of damp iron filling the air would probably freak them out.

My body has the exact opposite reaction. It's only when I'm in full control, holding another person's life in my hands, that I'm able to reach even a modicum of serenity. It's the only time my heart rate lowers, allowing me to hear more than just my pulse pounding an uneven rhythm in my ears.

With my eyes closed, I lift my chin upward, drawing in a deep, relaxing breath.

The man on the other end of my blade isn't as lucky.

His breathing is ragged, labored, and the sound of it, the power of being the one to decide when that last breath comes, makes everything return to an even keel in my world.

"We don't have the information we need."

I pull in one more deep breath before reopening my eyes and looking toward another Marine.

He points to the man as if I'm unaware of his declining condition.

"I know what I'm doing," I say, my voice full of warning.

I fight the urge to cover his body, to position myself in between him and my prey, but I learned long ago that no one wants to do what I do. They're quick to ask for help, but the depravity that is required to get information when someone doesn't want to talk has been left to me for years.

The other Marines keep their distance. They whisper when they think I'm not listening. I know how they feel about me. I know they sleep with one eye open when we're not on base. They fear me as much as the man sitting before me does.

"Ruiz, get back outside," Sergeant Rawley snaps before turning his full attention to me. "We need the coordinates for the secondary location. Can you get that for me, Hemlock?"

His question has much more to do with needing to know what headspace I'm in and less to do with my skills at pulling information from someone.

I swallow, once again fighting the dominance inside, urging me to protect my latest project.

Jameson Rawley is the only Marine I've met that doesn't turn green when my skills are needed. He's also been the only one to make me believe he understands the needs raging inside of me. He knows how thin of a moral line I skate.

"I can get that, Sergeant," I assure him.

I take the clap on the shoulder for what it is, a wordless job well done before I even complete my task, because he's that confident in my abilities.

I stand a little taller. The commendation is exactly what I need to continue my work without taking things too far.

This man will never step foot outside again.

He'll never see another sunrise.

He'll never know that when he detonated the bomb that killed two of the men in my unit, it also killed his wife and two children.

Well, he may know that last part. I'm also no stranger to a little mental torture, although the physical shit is my specialty.

I tap the tip of my blade on his cheek, but it does nothing to rouse him.

Being intimate with the stages of death, I know he looks worse than he actually is. Although, he's only a handful of slices from begging for death, and that's exactly where I need him to be. That's when he'll give me exactly what I want to know.

His eyes flutter when I carve a line down his left cheek, but then he stills.

I take a step back, rage bubbling inside me when I see his lips moving, as if he's praying to whatever god he believes in for either mercy or a miracle. This man doesn't deserve either.

Two United States Marines will be heading stateside in body bags to their grieving families because of this piece of shit.

Leaning in close, I pull in a deep breath.

"I'm your god now," I growl, my mouth inches from his ear. "I'm the only one who can show you mercy."

His eyes are open, the right one with only a slit of his eyeball showing.

He tries to straighten his spine, and for the briefest second, I commend him for attempting to be strong, but now is not the time for bravery.

"Give me what I need, and I'll kill you quickly," I barter, something I rarely offer when I'm in this position.

His eyes flutter closed, his mouth once again moving in prayer.

I shrug as I take a step forward, gripping a handful of his hair before pulling his head back. The words come faster, lips moving more rapidly, but this man's mistake is thinking I'll just kill him. No, the things he'll get from me today will be much worse than death.

My name is Pax "Hemlock" Hart, and I'm poison to everything I touch.

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