Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Sat, 11 May 2024 14:57:32 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Ty (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #6) Read Online Lilly Atlas http://www.ilovenovels.com/ty-hells-handlers-mc-florida-chapter-6-read-online-lilly-atlas Sat, 11 May 2024 14:57:32 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/ty-hells-handlers-mc-florida-chapter-6-read-online-lilly-atlas Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
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As VP of the Hell’s Handlers Motorcycle club, Ty is no stranger to complications, but nothing could have prepared him for Kelsie. Months ago, he and his club were part of a daring rescue that pulled her from the depths of a human trafficking nightmare. She emerged haunted by her ordeal and inexplicably drawn to only one man—Ty. Though she fled the help his club offered, destiny brings her back into the protective orbit of the Hell’s Handlers.

Now, Kelsie is grappling with shadows that refuse to leave her side. Still terrified of the world and haunted by her past, she finds solace in the strength of Ty’s presence. As their bond deepens, parts of Kelsie she thought lost resurface. But as hope starts to bloom, the past crashes into her life.

Kelsie’s estranged, notorious family reemerges, bringing a storm of danger and drama that threatens to unravel everything she’s worked for. Ty and Kelsie must navigate the turbulence of her haunting past, a twenty-year age difference, and the fragile threads of trust they’ve just begun to weave.

With so many forces pulling at the seams of their budding relationship, the question isn't only whether love can triumph but also whether they can survive long enough to find out. In a world where trust is as precious as life itself, can Ty and Kelsie hold on to each other and defeat the demons—both within and from their enemies?

Content This book contains topics that may be difficult for some readers, such as human trafficking and suicidal ideations.

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

PROLOGUE

EVERY NOISE MADE her jump like she’d been zapped with a cattle prod—footsteps, muffled voices, the distant ringing of cell phones, even the frequent chirp of her monitors. Each sound grated on her, scraping exposed nerves with sandpaper and bringing her one inch closer to her ultimate limit.

The pain medicine she’d received flowed through her veins, giving her a floaty, out-of-body sensation, but it wasn’t enough to combat the edgy anxiety keeping her on high alert. Fear lingered like an uninvited houseguest who refused to leave. The kind that drove a person crazy and demanded attention twenty-four hours a day.

If she’d had her way, the doctors would have doubled the dose of whatever narcotic they’d given her. She wanted more than the recommended amount for pain control—enough to knock her out so she could exist in oblivion until the trauma faded.

If it faded.

Lying there in the uncomfortable hospital bed, Kelsie couldn’t fathom a future where she made peace with what she’d suffered. In the few hours since she’d been rescued from the depths of hell and whisked to a hospital, she’d been told by no less than fifteen people to “give it time.”

As though time would erase the traumatic memories.

As though it would remove the pain, humiliation, and fear.

As though time could change anything.

Nothing would dim the horror of what they’d done to her. Not time, not the damn pain meds, not the heroic people who’d rescued and delivered her to the hospital, promising to stay by her side as long as she needed them. Everyone wanted to help, but no one could turn back the clock to the day before she accepted her first date in years.

The door creaked as it swung ajar, making her jolt. One of the women who’d accompanied her to the hospital poked her head in. Her boyfriend or husband belonged to the motorcycle club that had discovered her when they’d come for their friend, who’d also been kidnapped. Fortunately, the bikers knew she’d gone missing and found her before things passed the point of no return. Kelsie hadn’t been so lucky. No big family of bikers waited in the wings, worrying when she vanished.

“Hey, sweetie, I got some ice water for you.”

She’d requested water from the endlessly kind and patient Harper to get rid of her for a few moments. Not that Kelsie wasn’t grateful for the support, but she hadn’t had a moment alone since the rescue. They’d probably done that on purpose, afraid for her fragile mental state since she’d nearly stabbed one of the men who’d come to save her. But she was accustomed to being alone and craved a few moments of solitude. A few seconds to stop pretending she was okay.

She wasn’t okay and wouldn’t ever be again.

Those were just the facts.

“Thank you,” she said to Harper as the other woman set the plastic pitcher on the room's rolling table.

“Let me pour you some.” Harper filled a Styrofoam cup with icy water and then dropped in a bendable straw. “Here you go.” She reached across the narrow table to hand the water over.

“Thank you.” Kelsie accepted the cup. The frigid liquid felt sublime as it slipped down her scratchy throat. When was the last time she’d had a drink? Sometime yesterday, maybe. She’d shared a child-sized paper cup of warm water with Brenna, the woman who’d been held in captivity with her. They had an IV pumping her full of the good stuff, but the taste of water satisfied in a way that couldn’t.

“Of course,” Harper said with an easy smile. “Anything you need.”

Anything she needed. If only that were possible. Right now, she only needed one thing—to turn back time to the moment one week ago when she’d ignored her instincts and accepted a date with a man named Oliver. A man who’d drugged her wine while she’d used the restroom during dinner, allowing her to be easily abducted.

“Kelsie?”

She jumped and then blinked. “Sorry. Did you say something?”

At some point, while Kelsie zoned out, Harper sat in the rock-hard chair next to the bed.

The smile Harper wore held patience and empathy, two things she seemed to have in spades. Kelsie almost felt guilty for wishing the woman would leave. Harper didn’t deserve Kelsie trying to get rid of her, but right then, she didn’t have the capacity to care fully.

“I just wanted to let you know that your entire care team knows you are only comfortable with female providers. They will make sure all staff who interact with you, from nurses to housekeeping and everyone in between, are women.”

“Oh.” Kelsie’s eyes flooded as shame set in. There she’d been wishing this kind and generous woman would go the hell home, and Harper had been out making sure Kelsie was taken care of. “Thank you,” she croaked.

“You’re very welcome.” Again, with the empathetic smile, it was as though Harper could crawl inside Kelsie’s head and take a good look around at the horror show.


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Lock (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #5) Read Online Lilly Atlas http://www.ilovenovels.com/lock-hells-handlers-mc-florida-chapter-5-read-online-lilly-atlas Thu, 07 Dec 2023 05:55:20 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/lock-hells-handlers-mc-florida-chapter-5-read-online-lilly-atlas Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, Mafia, MC Tags Authors: Series: Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
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Lock is a man haunted by past mistakes, struggling to rebuild his life. Devastated by the loss of his twin sister to a drug overdose, he now bears the weight of raising her infant son. Overwhelmed by grief and the responsibility thrust upon him, Lock seeks solace in the very substances that stole his only sibling. But when the president of his motorcycle club lays down an ultimatum, Lock has no choice but to face his heartache. With a chance for redemption, his only priorities are being a good father and regaining his club’s trust, even if he'll never feel worthy.Freshly single and excited to regain her independence, Brenna stumbles upon a problem that could cost her more than she ever imagined. Unwilling to be a pawn in her ex's dangerous game, she steps into the ruthless world of the motorcycle club. But instead of finding men who live up to the horrific rumors, Brenna finds allies in an unexpected place. The MC members, appalled by her ex's callousness, promise to protect her and seek vengeance against her ex. Assigned to safeguard Brenna, Lock finds himself drawn to her strength and vulnerability.As they navigate a path filled with challenges and desire, Lock and Brenna's connection deepens. But the question can their attraction survive the stark differences in their worlds?Brenna, an outsider to the MC, and Lock, a man desperate to rebuild his life and be a good father, face an uncertain future. But when they believe the most significant threat is behind them, Brenna’s ex emerges as a more formidable adversary than imagined. A relentless enemy, he threatens to tear them apart before they can confront their inner demons and find happiness.

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

PROLOGUE

NO ONE PAID him a lick of attention, yet Lock felt the heat of every eye in the room searing into him, peering through his tattooed exterior to his fucked-up insides.

And he hated it.

Hated them.

Every one of these sad junkies who’d hit rock bottom and landed themselves in this hellhole.

“It happened so fast,” the nineteen-year-old who’d ended up on life support two weeks ago thanks to a severe heroin overdose said as she scratched a gouge into the arm of her wooden chair. “My boyfriend was just d-defending me. This drunk guy at the party kept hitting on me. He wouldn’t leave me alone. When he grabbed me and tried to force me to dance with him, my boyfriend, Mike, got between us and threatened the guy.” The lone hitch in her voice served as the only clue she struggled to tell the story. Otherwise, she droned on in a monotone, almost bored manner.

Back and forth, over and over, she scratched her nail on the chair’s arm. The unpolished fingernail would be down to a nub before too long.

She cleared her throat. “The guy sucker punched him. Mike fell and hit his head on the corner of a table. That was it. One punch, and now he’s d-dead.” Her voice cracked again.

Another peek beyond her mask.

Lock breathed out and shifted his gaze from the pale, sullen-eyed teen to the gorgeous Gulf of Mexico view out the long row of floor-to-ceiling windows.

Deanna loved the beach. At least, once upon a time, she had. Who knew what she’d been into in the months before she’d overdosed? Certainly not her twin brother.

He rubbed a tanned hand across the left side of his chest where an ache had taken up residence months ago and refused all eviction attempts. The second Deanna suffered a heart attack, an all-consuming heaviness entered his heart. He’d do anything for a moment’s relief from the constant reminder of his loss and failures as a brother.

Anything.

Even the very same drugs that had stolen his sister’s life. A good high had been the only reprieve from the relentless pain—a few fleeting hours of peace.

Damn, twin sense. They hadn’t been identical, hell, not even the same gender, yet their entire lives, they’d always had a connection that transcended time, space, and rational thinking. The link had bonded them as children, uniting them as best friends. Even through their teen years, their shared connection kept them closer than the average siblings. In adulthood, their link became a burden. Nothing more than a chaos-meter alerting Lock to the next crisis in Deanna’s life.

This final crisis resulted in her death and left her unborn infant orphaned. By some miracle, the doctors were able to deliver Deanna’s son. But Caleb hadn’t been a happy, healthy baby. The first few months of his life were fraught with drug withdrawal and one medical complication after another.

He’d survived, thrived, and now lived with his primary guardian.

Me.

The fucking head case who’d never even held a goddamn baby. Who’d never prepared a bottle or changed a diaper and hadn’t known babies had a soft and vulnerable spot on the top of their fuzzy heads.

He knew now. Now, he knew everything about living with a baby. He knew about the sleepless nights and the cat-like infant cry every time the baby needed any damn thing. He knew about spit-up and diaper blowouts, even fucking nipple flow rates. But he also knew about gummy smiles and how it felt to have a tiny baby fall asleep on his chest, drunk after downing an entire bottle of formula. And he knew about the enormous weight of responsibility and the fragility of the little life the state had assigned to his care.

What the fuck had they been thinking?

His skin itched, and his insides popped and quivered like live wires. He shifted. Christ, this chair was uncomfortable as fuck.

He needed a hit. Just one bump to take the edge off and silence the demons in his mind. The ones constantly whispering that he’d fuck up and destroy Caleb’s life.

But he hadn’t indulged in six days. Six long rounds of twenty-four hours since his club’s president showed up on his doorstep and ripped him a new asshole. Curly blasted him for neglecting his MC club duties, being a shitty member of his patched family, and being responsible for his brother’s ol’ lady getting hurt.

Twice.

But what Curly harped on, what he ripped into Lock over, was his responsibility toward Caleb. His nephew turned son—the baby he’d been tasked to care for and love.

And he’d been right. Lock had done all that shit and more to let down the people he was supposed to love.

Caleb served as a constant reminder of Deanna’s death and how he’d avoided his sister in the months before she died because her constant drama and neediness had become oppressive. She always needed something, and usually, those things drained Lock of money, time, and happiness. So he’d stopped checking in.


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Jinx (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #4) Read Online Lilly Atlas http://www.ilovenovels.com/jinx-hells-handlers-mc-florida-chapter-4-read-online-lilly-atlas Tue, 09 May 2023 20:48:20 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/jinx-hells-handlers-mc-florida-chapter-4-read-online-lilly-atlas Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Erotic, MC Tags Authors: Series: Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
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Harper's world has been shattered, and she's desperate for time—time to heal, time to rebuild her life, and time to learn how to trust again. What she doesn't need is a relentless, snarky biker barging into her life, stirring emotions she vowed never to experience again.

Enter Jinx, a captivating member of the Hell's Handlers Motorcycle Club and the chosen family of her new bosses. He's a man who commands attention, and despite Harper's best efforts, she can't seem to shake him.

Irresistibly drawn to the fiercely independent Harper, Jinx is determined to break through her defenses. He can't understand why the woman who won't spare him a smile has him so captivated, but he's determined to uncover the secrets behind her prickly exterior.

As Jinx chips away at Harper's walls, she grapples with keeping him at arm's length emotionally, even as they grow closer physically. But with her traumatic past and his club's dangerous enemies looming over them, can their fragile bond withstand the pressure?

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

PROLOGUE

SOMETHING WASN’T RIGHT.

Harper couldn’t put her finger on it, but a persistent tingle at the back of her neck, coupled with a queasy stomach, had her nerves on edge. Tonight wasn’t different from so many before it, but it still felt off.

And the uneasiness was starting to mess with her head.

Friday night in the passenger seat of her boyfriend’s cherry-red Ford Mustang with his friends crammed in the back typically meant they were heading to a party that would end sometime long after midnight. When it finally wound down, they’d drop his friends at their respective homes, drive to their favorite make-out spot, and spend the next hour or so making good use of that back seat. Eventually, they’d have no choice but to return to their homes. Harper, to her family’s crappy trailer on the wrong side of the tracks, and Aaron to, his attorney father’s posh mansion.

“I told Ryan we’d pick up some beer. He said his house is fucking packed, and he’s running out already.” Aaron glanced in the rearview mirror as he spoke. Something in his voice had her frowning. A hint of excitement that seemed over-the-top considering the situation.

The last time he’d been asked to pick up some alcohol for a party, he’d practically thrown a fit. Now, as he pulled into a gas station parking lot, there was almost eager anticipation to him.

“Let’s do this.”

Harper turned around to find Simon, Aaron’s best friend, smirking. Usually, the guy spent these rides with his tongue down his girlfriend’s throat, but tonight, he was flying solo. Harper didn’t like him or his girlfriend enough to ask if they’d broken up.

Stuffed in the back, four of Aaron’s closest frat brothers spent most of the trip chatting about what lucky girl they planned to fuck that evening.

So much for his girlfriend.

Maybe they had broken up.

She shifted her gaze to Aaron. As usual, her stomach fluttered with excitement and disbelief that the richest, most popular, and downright hottest guy in school wanted her—quiet, poor, awkward Harper—but he did. And they’d been dating for most of her senior year.

Of course, he’d graduated high school over a year ago, so his popularity no longer mattered, but he’d been at the top of the food chain for as long as she could remember. Even now, he dominated at college, making the transition easily and picking up friends wherever he went.

He attracted women as well. They threw themselves at him whether she was there or not. Something about those blond locks and piercing blue eyes. The football-honed muscles didn’t hurt, either. Nor did his wit and charm.

He was college-girl catnip.

Yet he still wanted her after nearly a year of dating.

And she fully trusted him. He said he loved her, after all.

She couldn’t help the smile that curled her lips.

He loved her.

Aaron reached across the console and grabbed her hand. She turned her head to find his dazzling white smile aimed at her. “Ready, Harp?”

She shook her head. “You guys go in. I’ll wait in the car. I don’t care what you buy.” No one had ever questioned Aaron or his friends’ fake IDs, but she didn’t have one and wouldn’t be responsible for spoiling everyone’s night if she got carded along with them.

He waved away her concern. “Nah, come one. You’re not gonna want to miss this.”

“Yeah, Harp,” Simon said from the back seat. “You will not want to miss this.”

One of the other guys snickered.

She eyed Aaron. “Okay, I guess, but I don’t have an ID. What if they card me and won’t serve you.”

“You worry too much,” her boyfriend said, squeezing her hand.

Carl, her least favorite of all Aaron’s bros snorted. “Yeah, won’t be a problem.”

The others snickered.

She crinkled her forehead. “Why are you guys being weird?”

Aaron winked. “Ignore them. You know they’re stupid. Come on. It’ll be fine and fun. I promise.”

Fun?

Aaron lived for fun. Truth be told, she’d have much preferred the two of them to spend their Friday nights snuggling on a couch, watching Netflix with a giant bowl of popcorn and some sodas. But skipping a college party was sacrilege to Aaron and his friends.

And she might as well soak up the experiences while she could. She certainly couldn’t afford full-time college. Every dollar she earned went into a savings account for the community college classes she planned to take in the fall, and even then, she’d be stretched thin. Working as an Applebee’s server didn’t exactly rake in cash.

“All right, fine.” She sighed. It was cold, and she’d dressed for a crowded, sweaty party, not the outdoors.

“That’s my girl.” Aaron leaned in and kissed her, sending a zing of happiness through her stomach. “Love you,” he whispered.

Her heart sang. Was there anything better than hearing those three words? “Love you too.”

It was enough to make her ignore the unease still pecking at her.


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Tracker (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #3) Read Online Lilly Atlas http://www.ilovenovels.com/tracker-hells-handlers-mc-florida-chapter-3-read-online-lilly-atlas Wed, 26 Oct 2022 19:49:43 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/tracker-hells-handlers-mc-florida-chapter-3-read-online-lilly-atlas Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Mafia, MC Tags Authors: Series: Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99040 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
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A cop and an outlaw biker walk into a bar…

Officer Jolene Baker spent her youth smiling and sparkling on stage when all she wanted was to run alongside her four older brothers. It took years for her to stand up for herself, ditch the pageant life, and peruse her dream of becoming a police officer. Now that she’d broken out on her own, she could dress how she wanted, swear if she wanted, and sleep with any man who caught her eye. No matter how many tattoos or piercings he had or how big a bad-boy vibe he gave off.

Tracker hit the sweet spot in his life. He owned a thriving tattoo business, found a stellar family in the Hell’s Handlers Motorcycle Club, and had no shortage of women jumping into his bed. Seducing the town’s new female cop to extract information on his club was a no-brainer. He’d be helping his club and having fun in the process.

A woman committed to justice and sworn to uphold the law, a man who lives by the outlaw code, and enough heat to burn down the town. Disaster seems inevitable, but can Jo and Tracker find a way to avoid catastrophe?

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

PROLOGUE

THE BLINDING STAGE lights seared her eyes, distorting her vision. Despite having to blink away bright spots, Jolene found her family in the audience. All six of them. Four tough older brothers and two loving, devoted parents. The brothers’ facial expressions ranged in degrees of boredom, which came as no surprise, but they were there, supporting her as always. Her parents, on the other hand, radiated pride and anticipation. Their hopes and dreams rested on Jo’s bare shoulders, heavy and insistent.

No pressure.

I love my family.

I love my family.

Jo couldn’t have been more uncomfortable if a sadistic torturer shoved bamboo shoots under her fingernails. She hated standing on stage under a gleaming spotlight so the judges and fans could inspect every inch of her waxed and buffed bikini-clad body.

That was it. That’s all she was there for. Not to demonstrate intelligence or wit. Not to discuss something that interested her, like the importance of women learning to protect themselves with self-defense classes or ways to reduce crime rates in crowded cities. Sure, if she advanced through multiple rounds of Miss Teen USA, she’d have an opportunity to voice her answer to a few posed questions, but even those required a pat, well-rehearsed, politically correct response the judges would approve of. Those questions weren’t answered with the truth but what she thought the judges wanted to hear.

No one cared to hear how she thought the US prison system needed to be completely revamped and reformed or how it was an often-for-profit shitshow that did nothing to rehabilitate prisoners or prevent future crimes. No, if asked her opinion on the state of the prison system as one of the contestants was last year, she’d smile and give a nice, pretty answer about trusting the state’s elected lawmakers to have their citizens’ best interests at heart—even the incarcerated.

Blah, blah, blah.

Of course, she had to make it through this swimsuit round, then evening gowns, first. While she detested the feel of sequins and long gowns on her skin, she despised the swimsuit round with a passion she couldn’t even put into words.

“Please welcome, Miss Alabama, Jolene Baker.”

First out as always, Jo smiled, pinched her shoulder blades together, and sashayed her way down the runway. Her cheeks ached, her feet throbbed—who the hell wore stilettos with a bikini—and her eyes stung from the harsh lights as they always did. The audience clapped—her family loudest, of course—as they gawked at her nearly naked body.

Seriously? Did the other girls enjoy this?

Yes, they did. Of course, they did.

Strutting across a stage to be critiqued on the curve of her hips, the perkiness of her tits, and the shape of her legs left a lot to be desired.

She’d been a part of these competitions since before she could walk, and after countless nights in hotels with the other girls, she knew for a fact that they loved it. It was a religion to most of them.

Not Jo. She’d hated it since she first sprouted tits and realized she’d never be allowed to follow in the footsteps of her brothers and father and attend the police academy. Nope, she was the only girl in the proud southern Baker family.

Literally, of the fourteen cousins in her generation, she was the lone female. And as a southern family with highly traditional southern values, she was to be the perfect, polite little belle. A delicate, innocent flower who could charm everyone she met but would never step out of line or assert herself.

Vomit.

No matter how many frilly pink dresses they stuffed her in or how many baby dolls they bought her, little Jo had only wanted to play in the dirt and run wild with the boys.

Horrifying to her pageant mother.

She finished her walk and took her marked spot on the stage.

“Thank you, Miss Alabama. Please welcome, Miss Alaska.”

The rest of the pageant passed in a flurry of fabric, hairspray, and makeup. She moved on from swimwear to formal gowns and reached the final five with a plastic smile on her face where she should feel at least a measure of pride. Pageants were an unfortunate obligation for her, but she’d still worked her ass off to get to where she was. Sometimes she felt guilty, as though she was stealing a spot from a girl who wanted to be there. At thirteen, she’d told her mom she no longer had an interest in the pageant world. The announcement crushed her mom in a way she’d never expected.

If she’d told her mother she had stolen the family car and crashed it into a tree, the woman wouldn’t have been as upset. She didn’t rage or yell. No, that wasn’t Audry Baker’s way. But the burden of deafening disappointment which followed her for weeks was so thick that Jo couldn’t bear its weight. After catching her mom sobbing in the bathroom, she decided to continue with pageantry until she stopped winning.


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Spec (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #2) Read Online Lilly Atlas http://www.ilovenovels.com/spec-hells-handlers-mc-florida-chapter-2-read-online-lilly-atlas Tue, 24 May 2022 09:11:27 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/spec-hells-handlers-mc-florida-chapter-2-read-online-lilly-atlas Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 505(@200wpm)___ 404(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Spec (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #2)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Lilly Atlas
Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B09ZVP3SRS
Book Information:

Scott survived hell serving his country. After more than two decades of service, the man honorably discharged from the army isn’t the same man who went in. Instead, he’s angry, violent, guilt-ridden, and in agony. The only thing keeping him going is the brotherhood he’s found in the Hell’s Handlers MC. Until she shows up, ruining his safe space.

Olivia finds herself in Florida, seeking out the man her brother called his best friend after her fiancé proves to be a monster in disguise. But Scott isn’t what she expected. His immediate hatred and hostile attitude send her reeling. Thankfully, the rest of his club is more receptive to her presence. But how can she stick around knowing the man she came to meet can’t stand her? Before long, Olivia realizes deep anguish drives Scott’s bitterness and sour outlook on life. His pain calls to her, causing a need to soothe the beast.

As Scott discovers the woman invading his universe isn’t who he’d judged her to be, he’s drawn to her with a power he can’t resist. But Olivia’s trip to Florida is fueled by a dark secret that might destroy their fragile connection before he can fully understand it.
Books in Series:

Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
Books by Author:

Lilly Atlas


PROLOGUE

SWEAT DRENCHED EVERY surface of his body.

It poured from places he didn’t know produced sweat.

Between his toes. His earlobes. His eyelids.

His T-shirt and military-issued underwear were beyond soaked and smelled like a decomposing animal. He’d shed the uniform days ago. Too goddamn hot. Hell, even his internal organs had to be swimming in perspiration inside his overheated and starved body.

The heat intolerance came as a surprise. He’d trained in the desert hundreds of times for this very situation. SERE training wasn’t for the faint of heart, and he’d not only survived it but rocked that shit. Sleep-deprived, dehydrated, and roasting in one hundred fifteen degrees of burning Texas sun. He’d taken it like a champ.

During the torturous training, he’d been able to disassociate. To crawl inside a hidden corner of his mind and ride out the discomfort. It was how he’d muscled through all the near barbaric training exercises during his military career.

Wasn’t fucking working in real-time.

Five days ago, he’d been taken hostage in enemy territory. Their helicopter, flown by one of the best pilots he knew, had been shot out of the fucking sky like a skeet target. Only two of the team survived—Scott and one other.

How? How the hell had it happened? How had the fucking low-tech terrorist group known they were coming? Was it shit dumb luck that had his unconscious body dragged from the helicopter and shoved into a box somewhere in a Middle Eastern desert hellhole?

“Fuck!”

He was literally baking to death inside a four-by-four wooden box, crate, whatever the hell. Everything hurt. His knees ached like a motherfucker from being curled for the past twelve hours. His neck killed him from half a day bent at an unnatural angle. Both shoulder blades burned with a searing agony that threatened to overtake the heat for the worst discomfort. Though he had no way of seeing or reaching behind himself to check, he was pretty sure the skin over his shoulder blades had been abraded down to the bone after so many hours of pressure against the wooden planks.

Twice a day, the terrorists opened his prison. Someone would drag him out by his feet and toss him in some kind of shack. There, his captors gave him one cup of cloudy water and what amounted to a slice of bread. The first few days, he’d fought like an animal, but weakness eventually won, and now he could barely lift the water to his cracked lips.

Every day he thought of upending that cup and refusing the meager bite of food. If it’d hasten his death and end the torture, it sounded damn good at this point.

Two things kept him from choosing that route. First was the notion of ‘returning home with honor.’ The goal of every POW taken hostage. What his team stood for. What he’d trained for. Resisting the enemy and staying alive until he could return to US soil, having not disgraced his country. Though no one would ever find out, he’d know if he failed that mission by not trying his damnedest to stay alive until he could be rescued.

Secondly, he wasn’t alone. As long as another team member suffered alongside him, he’d never abandon them. It didn’t matter that the man captured with him was his closest friend in the world; he’d do the same for any other soldier.

The fact it was his closest friend did ramp up his mental anguish to an unbearable level. Thankfully, their captors were unaware that Scott and Deke were tighter than some siblings. If they knew, they’d use it to their advantage, making the torture worse than it already was. Scott worried his psyche couldn’t handle more than he’d already been forced to endure.

So much for being a badass Army Ranger.

Footsteps crunched along the sand nearby his box, growing louder each second. Time for his daily mind fuck. His heart rate ramped up, as did his breathing in the parched, dusty air. Even though he lacked the energy to freak the fuck out anymore, his subconscious still panicked and tried to get his body ready to fight or flee. Unfortunately, he’d fall flat on his ass if he tried to swing a fist and wouldn’t make it ten feet running before they shot him dead.

Besides, he’d endure this torment for the rest of his life before abandoning Deke.

“Wake up, shithead,” the guard shouted in heavily accented English, pounding his fist on top of the box.

As the wooden box jostled beneath his captor’s heavy fist, pain rippled through Scott. His raw shoulders rubbed across the rough wood. He bit down on his lip to keep from crying out and giving his captors any ammunition to use against him. The dry skin of his lip ripped open further. Blood seeped into his mouth and coated teeth he hadn’t brushed in ages.


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Curly (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #1) Read Online Lilly Atlas http://www.ilovenovels.com/curly-hells-handlers-mc-florida-chapter-1-read-online-lilly-atlas Sat, 24 Jul 2021 22:16:02 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/curly-hells-handlers-mc-florida-chapter-1-read-online-lilly-atlas Categories Genre: Biker, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

(Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #1) Curly

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Lilly Atlas
Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
B098M1Q999
Book Information:

Travis Bryant, known in the biker world as Curly, spent thirteen hard years behind bars for a heinous crime he didn’t commit. When the truth finally sets him free, nothing remains of his previous life. Curly doesn’t know how to live without the brotherhood of a club. After visiting the Hell’s Handler’s MC, he’s given the go ahead to open a charter in his home state. Claiming an ol’ lady is the furthest thing from his mind until he meets Brooke, the beautiful, hardheaded, dog trainer bent on ending a violent dog fighting ring near her home.

After ten long years married to an abusive narcissist, Brooke vowed she’d never live under another man’s thumb again. Accepting help doesn’t come easy, but when abandoned dogs begin popping up with fatal injuries, she’ll do anything to put an end to the fighting ring responsible. Even enlist the assistance of the most attractive man she’s ever met, and his outlaw MC brothers.

From her feisty, independent spirit to her shapely legs, Brooke appeals to Curly on every level. He can’t keep himself away, but he’s been burned before, and has no plans to tie himself to a woman. Brooke is in the same boat, having promised herself no man would ever have control over her life again. Unfortunately, she can’t kick the curly-haired man in the biker boots out of her head or her bed.

As Brooke and Curly grow closer and danger strikes, will they be able to overcome their past traumas and find strength in each other? Or will they remain stubborn and stick to their guns as their lives crash and burn?
Books in Series:

Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
Books by Author:

Lilly Atlas


PROLOGUE

14 YEARS AGO

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?”

“We have, Your Honor.”

Travis Bryant sat as motionless as a marble statue and just as cold. Beside him, his attorney shifted papers on the desk while squirming in his seat. If he’d been able to move, Travis would have smacked the fucker upside his head until he calmed, but handcuffs and shackles around his ankles prevented most movement.

Chained like a fucking animal.

That’s how the world had seen him for the past six months. But people had viewed him like a rabid animal for far longer—the chains and locks only fortified people’s pre-formed opinions.

No one knew or cared he had a college degree.

No one gave a shit that he rescued dogs and donated to the local children’s hospital.

No one cared how he’d taken care of his grandmother until she’d passed.

All they saw was his loud motorcycle, leather clothes, and tattoos.

Okay, fine, they saw a load of laws broken by his one-percenter motorcycle club. The club he led. He sure as fuck wasn’t a saint, but he wasn’t an animal either.

“Please deliver your verdict to the bailiff.” The pinched-faced judge’s expression never changed. Her mouth looked like a clenched asshole resisting entry.

“Yes, Your Honor.” The jury foreman, a rail-skinny man with thick glasses overtaking his entire face, passed a folded paper to the bailiff with a trembling hand.

That’s right, motherfucker. You should be scared of me.

Or at least fear the rest of his motorcycle club. Travis was pretty confident he’d be spending the rest of his life behind steel bars. But no one fucked with his club and got away with it. Revenge for this bullshit investigation would rain down on everyone involved, from the DA to the grunt of a beat cop who’d first arrived at the murder scene. And that included each of the twelve jurors if they voted to convict.

The stern judge glanced at the paper, nodded once, then handed it back to the bailiff. Then, like a good little sheep, the uniformed bailiff returned the form to the foreman.

“Please announce the verdict,” the judge ordered.

Travis had spent more than a few nights in jail over his thirty-two years. First time had been a few nights in juvie when he’d gotten pinched swiping cigarettes from a gas station. He’d been fourteen at the time. That judge assumed he could scare Travis straight with a formal arrest and a few nights away from home. It hadn’t worked. From there, his rap sheet read like a laundry list of typical biker crimes. Assault, battery, drug possession—they’d tried for intent to sell on that one, but somehow his lawyer pulled a miracle out of his smarmy ass and knocked the charges down—illegal possession of a firearm and a few additional charges.

Murder of a minor was a new one for him.

One that would fuck him right in the ass. Hopefully, only figuratively. But the sinking feeling in his gut had him sure he’d be showering with his back to the wall for many years to come.

“In the c-case of the State of Florida vs. Travis Bryant, we f-find the defendant, g-guilty of murder in the first degree.” The sound of rustling paper accompanied the foreman’s voice as his hands shook so badly, he couldn’t keep from crinkling what he read. Not once did he shift his focus from the page.

Could he feel the burn of Curly’s gaze on his face?

Gasps of both pleasure and shock went up in the courtroom with murmurs and a few shouts of furious disbelief from his brothers.

Guilty.

As the judge banged her gavel and bellowed for silence, Travis didn’t twitch.

A guilty verdict.

He blinked.

Huh, he’d expected to feel more. To stand up and rage against the injustice of it all. To scream at the twelve assholes in the jury who’d fallen for this sham of a trial. To shout promises of retribution and the fires of hell on everyone who’d participated in framing him. He’d expected to fear his impending time behind bars. This was different than the past. This was permanent, as in for the rest of his miserable life.

Hell, he’d assumed he’d feel something, anything, but there was nothing. His insides were hollow as he sat there with chaos erupting around him.

Of course, his brothers were outraged by the verdict. They screamed obscenities and threats at the jurors, stomping their boots and promising death. If they kept at it, the entire jail would be full of unruly bikers that night.

Travis gazed across the courtroom aisle where Joy Lane’s family expressed their relief and elation at what they thought was justice with long hugs and tears. As Detective Lane held his sobbing wife to his chest, his gaze connected with Travis’s. As the city’s lead homicide detective, he’d had to step aside on this case because his daughter was the victim, but that didn’t mean he’d kept his nose out of the investigation.


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