by Joanna Wylde
Shade’s Lady
A Reapers MC Novella
By Joanna Wylde
1001 Dark Nights
Shade’s Lady
A Reapers MC Novella
By Joanna Wylde
1001 Dark Nights
Copyright 2017 Fat Robin Press LLC
ISBN: 978-1-945920-32-5
Foreword: Copyright 2014 M. J. Rose
Published by Evil Eye Concepts, Incorporated
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
Book Description
Shade’s Lady
A Reapers MC Novella
By Joanna Wylde
New York Times bestselling author Joanna Wylde returns to the world of the Reapers Motorcycle Club…
Looking back, none of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t dropped my phone in the toilet. I mean, I could’ve walked away from him if I’d had it with me.
Or maybe not.
Maybe it was all over the first time he saw me, and he would’ve found another way. Probably—if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that Shade always gets what he wants, and apparently he wanted me.
Right from the first.
About Joanna Wylde
Joanna Wylde started her writing career in journalism, working in two daily newspapers as both a reporter and editor. Her career has included many different jobs, from managing a homeless shelter to running her own freelance writing business, where she took on projects ranging from fundraising to ghostwriting for academics. During 2012 she got her first Kindle reader as a gift and discovered the indie writing revolution taking place online. Not long afterward she started cutting back her client list to work on Reaper's Property, her breakout book. It was published in January 2013, marking the beginning of a new career writing fiction.
Joanna lives in the mountains of northern Idaho with her family.
Also from Joanna Wylde
Click to purchase
Reaper's Property
Reaper's Legacy
Devil's Game
Silver Bastard
Reaper's Fall
Reaper's Fire
Reapers and Bastards
Coming June 2017:
Taz (Book 1 of the Devil’s Jacks MC series)
Acknowledgments from the Author
Thank you so much to Rebecca Zanetti, who connected me to 1001 Dark Nights. It’s a wonderful thing when you meet someone who’s smart, funny and not afraid to share a celebratory drink at noon. Long live the booth!
Thanks also to Cara Carnes, Kylie Scott and Jen Frederick for their critiques, as well as Margarita, Jess and Lori for being foolish enough to volunteer (again) when I needed help (again). Ladies, you kick ass and I appreciate everything you’ve done so much. (Except for you, Kylie. You are The Worst.)
Finally, thanks to Liz Berry, Kimberly Guidroz, Kasi Alexander, Fedora Chen, Pam Jamison and the entire 1001 Dark Nights family. Working on this book with you has been a joy and a pleasure.
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection One
Click here to explore
FOREVER WICKED by Shayla Black
CRIMSON TWILIGHT by Heather Graham
CAPTURED IN SURRENDER by Liliana Hart
SILENT BITE: A SCANGUARDS WEDDING by Tina Folsom
DUNGEON GAMES by Lexi Blake
AZAGOTH by Larissa Ione
NEED YOU NOW by Lisa Renee Jones
SHOW ME, BABY by Cherise Sinclair
ROPED IN by Lorelei James
TEMPTED BY MIDNIGHT by Lara Adrian
THE FLAME by Christopher Rice
CARESS OF DARKNESS by Julie Kenner
Also from 1001 Dark Nights
TAME ME by J. Kenner
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Two
Click here to explore
WICKED WOLF by Carrie Ann Ryan
WHEN IRISH EYES ARE HAUNTING by Heather Graham
EASY WITH YOU by Kristen Proby
MASTER OF FREEDOM by Cherise Sinclair
CARESS OF PLEASURE by Julie Kenner
ADORED by Lexi Blake
HADES by Larissa Ione
RAVAGED by Elisabeth Naughton
DREAM OF YOU by Jennifer L. Armentrout
STRIPPED DOWN by Lorelei James
RAGE/KILLIAN by Alexandra Ivy/Laura Wright
DRAGON KING by Donna Grant
PURE WICKED by Shayla Black
HARD AS STEEL by Laura Kaye
STROKE OF MIDNIGHT by Lara Adrian
ALL HALLOWS EVE by Heather Graham
KISS THE FLAME by Christopher Rice
DARING HER LOVE by Melissa Foster
TEASED by Rebecca Zanetti
THE PROMISE OF SURRENDER by Liliana Hart
Also from 1001 Dark Nights
THE SURRENDER GATE By Christopher Rice
SERVICING THE TARGET By Cherise Sinclair
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Three
Click here to explore
HIDDEN INK by Carrie Ann Ryan
BLOOD ON THE BAYOU by Heather Graham
SEARCHING FOR MINE by Jennifer Probst
DANCE OF DESIRE by Christopher Rice
ROUGH RHYTHM by Tessa Bailey
DEVOTED by Lexi Blake
Z by Larissa Ione
FALLING UNDER YOU by Laurelin Paige
EASY FOR KEEPS by Kristen Proby
UNCHAINED by Elisabeth Naughton
HARD TO SERVE by Laura Kaye
DRAGON FEVER by Donna Grant
KAYDEN/SIMON by Alexandra Ivy/Laura Wright
STRUNG UP by Lorelei James
MIDNIGHT UNTAMED by Lara Adrian
TRICKED by Rebecca Zanetti
DIRTY WICKED by Shayla Black
THE ONLY ONE by Lauren Blakely
SWEET SURRENDER by Liliana Hart
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1001 Dark Nights story
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by Lexi Blake & M.J. Rose
Table of Contents
Book Description
About Joanna Wylde
Also by Joanna Wylde
Acknowledgments from the Author
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection One
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Two
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Three
Foreword
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Discover 1001 Dark Nights Collection Four
Discover the World of 1001 Dark Nights
Excerpt from Reaper’s Property by Joanna Wylde
Special Thanks
One Thousand and One Dark Nights
Once upon a time, in the future…
I was a st
udent fascinated with stories and learning.
I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and
the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast
library at my father’s home and collected thousands
of volumes of fantastic tales.
I learned all about ancient races and bygone
times. About myths and legends and dreams of all
people through the millennium. And the more I read
the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered
that I was able to travel into the stories... to actually
become part of them.
I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher
and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I
would not be telling you this tale now.
But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off
with bravery.
One afternoon, curious about the myth of the
Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to
see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar
(Persian: شهريار, “king”) married a new virgin, and then
sent yesterday's wife to be beheaded. It was written
and I had read, that by the time he met Scheherazade,
the vizier's daughter, he’d killed one thousand
women.
Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived
in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged
places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had
never occurred before and that still to this day, I
cannot explain.
Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have
taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can
protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to
protect herself and stay alive.
Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.
And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a
point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.
And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that
he might hear the rest of my dark tale.
As soon as I finish a story... I begin a new
one... like the one that you, dear reader, have before
you now.
Chapter One
Violetta, Idaho
Tuesday afternoon
Mandy
“Did you get my text?” Sara asked, pushing through the office door. I’d just finished tying my apron around my waist, and was leaning toward the cracked mirror on the wall for one last makeup check before punching in.
“No,” I replied, frowning. “Dropped my cell in the toilet this morning. I called the phone people. They said I didn’t have any insurance, so I’m fucked. I put it on Future Me’s list of things to worry about.”
Sadly, Future Me’s list got longer every day. She was supposed to pay our credit card bill, figure out whether we should break up with our boyfriend, and find a better place to sleep than my sister’s couch. She also needed to lose ten pounds and magically fix the rusted-out Kia Sedona currently broken down in my sister’s yard. Present Me would’ve felt guilty about dumping all this on the poor thing, but I only had three minutes left to punch in and start slinging drinks for drunken bikers, so it would just have to wait.
Yup. I’m organized like that.
Studying my reflection, I ran an eye down the length of my body. Tight tank with a hint of bra showing? Check. (Nothing like some boob action to bring in the tips. Not only that, Rebel had said he’d be here tonight, and he always liked seeing the girls.) Lipstick was bright and shiny, no smudges on the teeth. More eye makeup than I’d usually wear, but ever since I’d started hanging out with Rebel’s biker friends, I’d kicked it up a notch. Made me look wild and sexy. Not gonna lie—I liked this new me. I liked her a lot. I guess if there was one good thing about my sister’s life falling apart—and me moving to Violetta to help with the kids—it was that it’d forced me to change my life, too.
“Shitty about the phone,” Sara said. “No pun intended. I got stuck washing glasses this afternoon. Now my hands are all chapped. We were so busy that I didn’t get to take my break, so I couldn’t run out to pick up some lotion. Was hoping you could bring some in with you.”
“Sorry.”
My fellow waitress ran a hand through her blonde hair, then gave it a shake. Her impressive rack shook at the same time, and I sighed, feeling a little jealous. Sara’s girls were big and bountiful. No push-up on earth could ever make my modest rack compete. Still, my jeans were tight, my bra was red, and I’d recently run fresh out of fucks to give.
Life could be worse.
“I wish I had your tits,” I told Sara.
She laughed. “I wish I had your butt. Just think of it—we could form one perfect waitress and turn into an unstoppable tip-earning machine.”
I giggled. “So where do I fall on the slut scale?”
Sara studied me thoughtfully.
“I think right around a seven,” she said, nodding in approval. “Slutty enough to make bank on tips, but not full-on club whore. If it’s your goal to make Rebel horny as hell by the end of your shift, you’re right on target. We gotta get out there, though. It’s gonna be a crazy busy night. We’ll work our asses off but at least we won’t be bored.”
“Works for me,” I said, giving her a wink in the mirror. “If there’s one thing I hate, it’s being bored. Although Rebel better watch himself. I caught him groping some other girl last night while he thought I was in the stock room. He keeps that shit up, I don’t care how horny he gets—he’s on his own.”
Sara raised a brow. “You think he’s cheating?”
I turned to her, shrugging unhappily.
“I don’t have anything solid,” I admitted. “But something feels off to me. I mean, he’s a huge flirt—we all know that.”
“Most of them are.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “So it’s hard to know how much of it’s just him being him or if there’s more going on. He’s been acting weird, though. I don’t know… I guess I’ll figure it out sooner or later. You know what’s really lame?”
“What’s that?”
“I feel like a total bitch saying this, but in some ways I think I’d miss riding with his club more than I’d miss Rebel. If we broke up, I mean.”
Sara snorted.
“There’s a whole bar full of bikers out there,” she pointed out. “And don’t think they haven’t noticed that cute butt of yours. Rebel’s a fun guy, but if he turns out to be a dick, it’s not like he’s your only option. Hell, you could just buy your own motorcycle. There’s no law saying only men can ride—Rebel’s club is just a bunch of weekend warriors. Real clubs like the Reapers may be all hardass about women as members, but there are riding clubs for girls, too. Those Ladies of Harley seem to be having a pretty good time. They certainly party enough to keep up with the boys.”
I giggled. “I can’t even afford a new cell phone, let alone a motorcycle.”
Sara winked at me, then her eyes caught the clock and they widened.
“Oh, fuck! Look at the time. You got about two seconds to punch in or Bone will shit bricks.”
Diving for the time clock, I grabbed my card and shoved it into the machine, then held it up triumphantly.
“Made it!”
“Great. Now get out there and sell some drinks,” she said. “And remember—don’t be afraid to show off that red bra. I need you to buy a new phone. This lack of communication is seriously fucking with my night. Now I have lizard fingers and no lotion.”
She raised her hands like claws and gave a mock roar. Laughing, I pushed out the door and started down the hallway, because Sara was definitely right about one thing—I really did need a new phone, and I’d be damned if I’d ask my sister for a loan to buy one. I’d moved to Bumfuck Nowhere to help her and the kids, not to mooch. I was big o
n personal responsibility these days, unlike my ex-husband (who was hopefully burning in hell).
That’s what you get for marrying someone named Trevor.
The bar was hopping by the time I made it to the floor and Bone—bartender, owner and all around scary guy—shoved a tray of drinks at me before I even had time to look over the table assignments.
“We’ve got the Reapers coming in,” he said, his voice blunt and harsh. “They’ll be in the back room. That means we’ll have a different kind of crowd tonight. Less mom and pop bikers and more wannabes and hangarounds. Could be interesting. Don’t fuck up.”
“You always make me feel so special and wanted,” I said, wrinkling my nose at him. Bone grunted, but I saw a hint of humor in his eyes. He was a good guy, despite the whole prize-fighter vibe he had going for him. The Pit was a biker bar, which meant flirting came with the job, yet he always took care of his girls. All we had to do was say the word and he’d throw out anyone who got too handsy.
Grabbing the tray, I carried it across the room, ducking and weaving around big guys wearing leather and sexy babes in tight shirts. Everyone was laughing and having fun, which was one of my favorite things about working here. These guys came to the Pit for a good time, and that’s exactly what we gave them—booze, music, a little bit of dancing and a whole lot of action.
Throw in the fact that my sister’s place was only a couple miles away and the job was a perfect fit.
The first hour of my shift passed in a blur, busy enough that I didn’t notice the time but not so busy people got pissy waiting for their drinks. I’d just leaned across the bar to give Bone a fresh order when the door opened and the room quieted.
