Death Dwellers MC Series
by
Kathryn Kelly
Misled
(DEATH DWELLERS’ MC #1)
Megan 'Meggie' Foy
has had a tough life. Her home life is nothing as it seems. Living with
her mother and step-father is a complete nightmare. They seem to have
the perfect little family, but appearances can be deceiving and monsters
are closer than you think. When her body and mind can take no more
abuse at the hands of her step-father, Meggie finally decides to run,
hoping her father, MC President of the Death Dwellers Joseph 'Boss' Foy,
can save her and rescue her terrified mother from the clutches of her
step-monster before it's too late for them.
Christopher 'Outlaw' Caldwell
deals in a world of violence, sex, drugs, and crudity. As current
president of the Death Dwellers' MC, he presides over a club in chaos
after the death of their longtime president and his mentor, Boss. Outlaw
is trying to keep everything with the club in his control. What happens
when more trouble arises in the form of a blonde haired, 18 year old
beauty with the same eyes as his former mentor?
Meggie discovers
her daddy is gone and now there may be no one to save her and her
mother. How will she feel when she finds out the man who killed him is
the man she's falling in love with? Can Outlaw get past his demons to
truly find love with Meggie and peace with the death of Boss?
Alliances will be made, loyalties tested, lives will be lost, but will love conquer all in the world of bikers and revenge
Warning: For mature audiences only. Contains physical abuse, violence, rape, and excessive profanity
Goodreads:
Amazon:
smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/385059
A scream rose above the music and laughter humming in the
background. Then silence. Complete and utter silence. Rack winced. Outlaw
pulled his nine, a reflex reaction and started down the hallway. Light
reflected off the gigantic mural of the Grim Reaper, his scythe dripping blood,
his eye sockets burning red.
“Daddy!”
He stared into familiar eyes. Blue. Intense. Brilliant. A
perfect mirror of the former president of his MC. Only these eyes were unfamiliar. And not because of the dark
circles ringing them.
They were the eyes of the daughter of the man he’d killed.
Spotify Playlist:
MISAPPROPRIATE
(DEATH
DWELLERS’ MC #1.5)
Megan Foy is finally getting the big
wedding she's dreamed of. With her new child and the affection of the brothers
of the Death Dwellers' MC, her life is settling down.
However, a new threat rides into town and
targets Christopher "Outlaw" Caldwell, forcing him to reevaluate his
life once more and endangering everyone. Most of all, it threatens Meggie's
newfound peace.
This is a full-length novel.
Warning:
FOR MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. CONTAINS A FEW HOT ALPHA BIKERS, LOADS OF STEAMY
SEX, AS MUCH MUSHINESS AS OUTLAW CAN HANDLE, VIOLENCE AND EXCESSIVE PROFANITY.
Amazon:
“Do
you realize how inappropriate this is, Mr. Caldwell?” the priest sputtered.
He
had to give it to the old geezer. He was determined to show he had balls.
Motherfuckers might be useless but they were big.
“Don’t
give a fuck if it’s misappropriate or not.” He narrowed his eyes at the priest.
“I’m the most misappropriate motherfucker you’ll ever meet, so this ain’t
nothin’ but a thing.”
Johnnie
cleared his throat and beckoned Christopher closer. Probably to complain about
his bad language to Father Wilcunt.
“What,
fuckhead?”
“Er,
Outlaw,” he whispered. “Misappropriate isn’t the right word. That means misuse
of shit. Inappropriate means not suitable—“
“The
word mean whatever the fuck I want it to mean, motherfucker,” he snarled,
jerking away from his cousin. “Don’t need you to give me no fuckin’
definitions.” He knew Johnnie only wanted him to make as much of a good
impression on Father Wilcunt as possible, but that fucking shipped had sailed.
The man didn’t like him and he didn’t like the man. Besides, it reminded
Christopher of his 9th grade education. It
reminded him he didn’t speak the proper English cuz he’d been more interested
in street smarts.
That boat had floated, too,
and he was what the fuck he was.
He
scowled at Father Wilcunt, who continued to glower. The priest slanted a quick
glance to the phone—thinking Christopher was fucking blind—before he nodded.
“Fine. The wedding can go on.”
“Megan,” he said quietly, then snapped
his mouth shut, not sure where to start. He was good as fuck at being dirty
with her, but sweet words didn’t come easy to him. Even when their sex was
gentle, he still thought of it as fucking. Deep down, though, he knew he was
making love to her. But he wondered if she knew. Did she understand how he felt
about her even though he just said he loved her and none of the other romantic
bullshit she deserved? “Megan, I ain’t a romantic motherfucker.”
She looked up at him and gave him an
uncertain smile.
He pulled an envelope out of the inside
of his jacket and tapped her nose with it. “This letter here is from me to
you.” He shrugged. “Cuz I’m me and I ain’t gonna walk around tellin’ you no
sonnets every-fuckin-day.” He picked up her hand. “But I promise you, baby. On
every anniversary, I’m gonna give you a letter and I’m gonna tell you.” He
swallowed. What he was about to say would put his feelings out there more than
he ever had, even with Megan. “Maybe, some of your romance shit rubbed off on
me. Not sure, baby.”
She cocked her head to the side in that
way she had when she listened intently to something.
He laid the letter in her lap, tempted to
let her read it, and be done with it. “I love pussy—“ He paused at her frown
and pulled at his hair. “I love girls, Megan. I studied bitches as a pastime.”
He cleared his throat and winced at her wide eyes. Maybe, he should’ve stuck to
the letter. The shit coming out his mouth wasn’t the shit he’d written.
“This is—“
He held up a hand. “Wait, baby. Let me
finish.”
Her look skeptical, she nodded.
“But ain’t no girl I ever met make me as
hot as you do just by thinkin’ about you. From the moment I met you, Megan, I
couldn’t fuckin’ focus on nothin’ and nobody else. All I could think about was
you. Wantin’ you and wantin’ to protect you. I once told you you was gonna
drive some poor motherfucker and I’m one lucky fuck that it’s me. A girl who
challenge her man, hardly never fuckin’ listen to him, tell him to go fuck
himself when he pisses her the fuck off is worth every fuckin’ minute of every
fuckin’ day. No matter what, baby, I’m always with you. You,” he emphasized and
grabbed her neck to pull her close and kiss her. “Those pretty pink lips.” He
glided a hand down her arm. “Your beautiful, little body.” He bumped her nose
against his. “Those gorgeous fuckin’ eyes of yours. All of you. We real with
each other. Me and you. You don’t have to hide a motherfuckin’ thing from me.
You can be you. Scared. Happy. Wild. Angry. Kinky. I don’t give a fuck cuz I
always got you. No matter how many times you need liftin’ up--” He held out his
hand and tapped his fingers in it-- “I’ll catch you and raise you back where
you need to be. I love the fuck outta you, Megan, and I ain’t ever gonna stop.”
Megan let out half-laugh, half-sob, tears
streaking her cheeks. Christopher swiped them with his thumbs.
“I love you, too, Christopher. You make
me hot and lustful for you, but it’s more than that. It’s about the two of us.
You make me feel secure and loved and wanted. You’re a wonderful father and
husband.” She placed a hand over his heart. “And you have a heart, Christopher.
A heart that made me fall in love with you. I’ll always be here for you. No
matter how many times you fall—“ She grabbed his hand and kissed the back of
it—“I’ll always be there to pull you up. You own me body and soul. You’re my
everything.”
He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her
with all the tenderness flowing between them. Fuck him, but the look in her
eyes made him want her pussy. His nostrils flared. “I want some more pussy,
baby.”
“Why did you ruin our romantic moment?”
she whined.
“Megan, every-fuckin-thing I said was the
God’s honest truth, but I can only take so much mushy shit and mushy time is
fuckin’ over.
She shook her head.
“C’mon, baby. You know you want to give
me some more pussy in that small fuckin’ airplane bathroom right over there.
You’re a freaky little nympho.”
She smirked at him. “Yeah, but I’m your
freaky little nympho.”
MISUNDERSTOOD
(DEATH DWELLERS’ MC #2)
Johnnie 'John-boy' Donovan
is the new VP of the Death Dwellers MC. While the club president, his
cousin Christopher 'Outlaw' Caldwell, is on his honeymoon, Johnnie is
left in charge. With Outlaw's return just a week away, he just wants
things to run smoothly and without a hitch. But trouble is brewing for
the Death Dwellers and an evil from his past may be back to haunt him.
Kendall Miller is an attorney and the ex-girlfriend to Spoon, the club President of The Torpedoes MC. She's in over way over her head and when her little sister is taken, Kendall needs to do whatever it takes to get the information on the Death Dwellers before it’s too late.
Can Johnnie trust the mysterious red haired woman who showed up naked to his cousin’s bachelor party? Can Kendall rely on the handsome blond biker that made a lasting impression on her mind, body, and heart to help her get her sister back?
Lives will be lost and hearts will be broken in the third book of The Death Dwellers MC series.
Warning: For mature audiences only. Contains physical abuse, violence, rape, and excessive profanity.
Kendall Miller is an attorney and the ex-girlfriend to Spoon, the club President of The Torpedoes MC. She's in over way over her head and when her little sister is taken, Kendall needs to do whatever it takes to get the information on the Death Dwellers before it’s too late.
Can Johnnie trust the mysterious red haired woman who showed up naked to his cousin’s bachelor party? Can Kendall rely on the handsome blond biker that made a lasting impression on her mind, body, and heart to help her get her sister back?
Lives will be lost and hearts will be broken in the third book of The Death Dwellers MC series.
Warning: For mature audiences only. Contains physical abuse, violence, rape, and excessive profanity.
Smashwords:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/426433
His
gaze flickered over her hair, her eyes, her nose. Her mouth. The silver in his
beautiful eyes swallowed up the gray, leaving behind a burning intensity that
melted Kendall’s insides. Looking at him, smelling his cologne, hardened her
nipples and wet her panties. Because he was her illusion. The man she hadn’t
expected to see again but whose memories she clung to.
“Hello,
gorgeous,” he greeted with a heart-stopping smile. “What brings you back to my
club?”
Spotify Playlist:
Misdeeds
(DEATH
DWELLERS’ MC #2.5)
John “Johnnie” Donovan
is determined to make his relationship work with Kendall Miller, the attorney
he met during his cousin’s birthday party. Before he can move on with his
future, however, he still has loose ends to tie up from the past in the person
of a rival MC’s president who is also Kendall’s ex-boyfriend. As Johnnie tries
to balance his club life and personal life, another tragedy forces him to make
a choice between the two. Will Johnnie be able to live with the choices he
makes?
Kendall
Miller is trying to pick up the pieces of her life in the wake of her
ex-boyfriend’s assault. She’s ready to move on with her life and the man of her
dreams, the sexy VP of the Death Dwellers MC. She demands his complete
attention and isn’t willing to share her man with all the baggage of the MC.
She doesn’t want to be an afterthought to him nor does she want to live her
life in the midst of the clubhouse, especially with the competition taking
place between Kendall and the club president’s wife. Then, catastrophe strikes
and Kendall’s life is once again altered. Can she and Johnnie have a future
together or has their love been doomed from the beginning?
Instead
of Megan or any other woman, Johnnie stepped in and leaned against the door.
He’d been running his fingers through his hair a lot, so the blond strands lay
all over his head. The sadness in his eyes made her heart twist and she stepped
closer to him before gliding her fingers along his jawline. The stubble that
had grown since he’d shaved this morning scraped against her fingertips. She
wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her nose against his neck,
inhaling his scent. Smoke. Alcohol. The faintest hint of aftershave. Musk. And
him. Johnnie.
She
planted kisses against his throat and up to his mouth. He groaned and pulled
her closer, taking control of the kiss and dipping his tongue into her mouth.
Heat pooled low in her belly, her pussy slickening in need.
“I’m
so glad you’re here with me, gorgeous,” he whispered, thumbing her nipples and
thrusting his erection against her.
Kendall
melted at his words and smiled, pulling back to stare into his eyes, burning
with a silver intensity that seemed to reach into her soul. But she wouldn’t
tell him again that she loved him right now. He was dealing with too much.
Besides, she wanted to know how deep his feelings went for her. She couldn’t
face his rejection.
“Come
out with me?” he asked quietly. “I’m about to tell a hilarious story about K-P.
Well, it’s more about us but K-P
walked in at the end and—“ He rubbed the back of his neck and he shrugged
before forcing a smile onto his lips. “I’d like you to be out there.”
Unable
to deny him as much as she wanted to ask they return to their room, Kendall nodded.
His
grin wasn’t as bleak. Grabbing her hand, he moved away from the door, opened
it, and then guided her out. He went to the center of the floor and whistled to
call attention to himself.
“You’d
never know just by looking at our ugly mugs how two little guys have woven
their way into our hearts,” he began when the room fell silent. “I’m going to
be a father, too, thanks to my old lady.” He nodded to Kendall and she blinked,
heat rising to her cheeks, not expecting Johnnie to make such an announcement.
Claps
and catcalls reached Kendall, Johnnie’s loudest of all. She didn’t know how to
feel about having so much attention focused on her and wished Johnnie would’ve
discussed his intentions with her, so she could’ve been better prepared.
Sliding
into the seat she’d had earlier, she ignored the stares directed at her,
balling her hands into fists to keep from screaming at everyone to focus
elsewhere. Like on Johnnie, who was finally launching into the story he’d
mentioned to her in the bathroom.
Losing
herself in the cadence of his voice, Kendall blocked out everyone else and
focused on the anecdote.
MISBEHAVIOR
(DEATH DWELLERS’ MC #3)
Matthew “Val” Taylor, the Road Captain in
the club, was introduced to sex at an early age. Saved from the streets by the
club’s Enforcer and President years ago, Val now lives for women and the open
road. Until the night the only woman he’s ever loved is almost killed. Val
determines to change his ways and be the man Zoann Donovan should have and the
father their son deserves.
Zoann has loved Val for a long time.
Violence and bitter betrayal forces her to ignore her feelings and distance
herself not only from the sexy RC, but her beloved brother, too. Until she
discovers the truth. Can Zoann ever be forgiven for all the pain she’s caused?
Will Val overcome his own demons and have a future with her and their son? Who
will survive in an MC filled with lust and revenge, love and hate?
Warning:
This is a tale of rape, murders, deception, heartache, lies, and infidelity.
The road to redemption is a tumultuous struggle where only the strong survive
and justice is served…Outlaw-style.
“You
need me to eat it again?”
God,
no. “No.”
He
slid a finger into her heat, thumbing her clit. She sucked in a breath and
clutched his shoulders.
“So
fucking soft and delicate.” He added another finger and licked her nipple, his
fingers working in and out of her and moving in unison with his thumb on her
clit.
Desire
stripped away her resistance and she cried out, grinding against his hand and
coming apart.
“On
your knees.” He gave her the order, but didn’t wait for her to comply. Instead,
he rose to his knees, flipped her over and lifted her legs, opening her wide to
him and sliding into her when she had not yet recovered from the orgasm he’d
given her.
“Come
for me.”
He
thrust into her, his tight balls tapping against her clit with every move he
made and she screamed his name, the force of her orgasm shaking her entire body
and making her ears ring. He gripped handfuls of her hair and pulled her head
back, licking her lips. The moment she opened her mouth, he stuck his tongue
out and touched the tip of hers, urging her to follow suit. Once he stopped, he
released her hair and leaned over her, his thrusts into her wild now.
“Best.
Pussy. Ever.”
One,
last time he slammed into her and jerked inside of her. He pulled his dick out
of her and flattened his hand against her back. She felt his nose first. A
second later, his mouth covered her entrance and sucked.
She
nearly knocked herself out hauling herself away from him and careening into the
headboard.
“Ow!”
she whined, holding her head and turning to glare at him as he wiped his
forearm across his mouth. “You fucking pig.”
He
shrugged. “I want to get my cum out of you.”
“Once
it’s in, it can’t come out, asshole.”
“That
shit leaks out all the time. A few hard sucks have to slurp it out.”
“If
it leaked out or could be sucked out, the earth wouldn’t be populated. I’ve
never heard of cunnilingus as a form of birth control.”
He
barked a laugh and smirked at her. “You liked it.”
Spotify Playlist:
MISJUDGED
(DEATH DWELLERS’ MC #3.5)
GOODREADS:
Have we ever misjudged
a situation? Looked at life one way only to realize it’s something else
entirely?
Christopher “Outlaw”
Caldwell is at a crossroads. He worships his old lady, Megan. After almost
losing her, he’s realizing marriage is harder than he thought, especially when
he’s the president of one of the most notorious MCs around.
Megan Caldwell has been
immersed in grief over her lost son, blaming herself for his death. She wants
another baby and she wants to be the old lady her husband needs her to be.
Reality has a way of
changing perceptions. Both Megan and Christopher will have to find answers to
some hard questions. Most important one?
Where do they go from
here?
Warning:
This story contains a little of Kendall Miller’s backstory and a present-day
decision on her part. It isn’t for the faint of heart and isn’t a
hearts-and-roses type of romance. It has a little intensity, a smidgeon of
fighting, a lot of loving, and approximately 1360 ‘f’ words or variations
thereof.
AMAZON:
He
wanted to motherfucking leave this bullshit amusement
park, the last fucking place in the world he wanted to fucking be.
“Christopher!”
Megan called, her tone filled with beautiful, fucking happiness, a sound he
hadn’t heard from his wife in fucking weeks. Her carefree joy almost made this
fucking torture worthwhile.
All-fucking-most.
For
this bullshit, Megan would have to…
What…?
She
already did what he asked of her, so spending the evening at an amusement park
racing her in stupid fucking go-carts, feeling fucking ridiculous on the Ferris
wheel, wanting to slap the fuck out of two dickheads screaming like pussified
girls on the rollercoaster, and fucking with arcade games, shouldn’t have been
such a pain in the fucking balls. He’d had enough miniature golf and bumper
cars to last a fucking lifetime. And the fucking shame of the goddamn carousel.
The
carou-fucking-sel. He’d sat in one of
the carriages with Megan snuggled close to him, her eyes bright and sparkling.
They’d
already been there for three fucking hours and he was considering having this
motherfucker blown to bits and fucking pieces so Megan would never, fucking
ever-ever-ever, get it in her head for them to have a motherfucking date here
again.
Fucking
never.
Every-fucking time,
they ended up back at these
motherfuckers. The go-carts. After the third fucking time stuffed into those
small fuckers, he wised the fuck up and let Megan win. It became fucking clear
to Christopher she wouldn’t move on until she beat him.
SPOTIFY PLAYLIST:
MISGUIDED
(DEATH DWELLERS’ MC #4)
A biker: Lucas “Mortician” Banks stopped
believing in love after a bitter betrayal. As Club Enforcer, the Death Dwellers
MC is his home, where no rules exist and brotherhood rule. He never expected to
fall for the daughter of K-P Andrews, a biker from the old guard, who is now
deceased. Is love enough to survive secrets, brutality, and betrayal?
A beauty: Bailey Andrews was fascinated
by the biker from the first moment they met. She seized the opportunity to have
his phone number and, somehow, ended up married to him when she accompanied
Mortician on a run to Las Vegas. She uncovers the connection between her father
and Mortician’s father and the horrible betrayals it led to within the MC. Can
she leave the secrets stay buried? Or will she expose them and ruin her
marriage to the only man she’ll ever love?
A bet: Smug in his assumption he’d never
fall as hard for as woman as his Prez fell for a girl, Mortician put his money
where his mouth was and made that bet. With 20Gs on the line and two weeks left
before he wins or loses, Mortician has to decide if Bailey and their marriage
is more important or saving face and keeping his money. Having only ever seen
the destruction of love gone wrong, what will Mortician decide?
A baby: Now, Bailey’s pregnant with his
baby and hiding another detrimental secret that she, herself, recently
discovered. Will she have to choose between her life and the baby’s? Or will
she find a way to save both herself and her child’s?
Warning:
This is a brutal tale of worlds colliding—a mega-church with the command to
destroy, powerful men with their own agendas, and raw and dirty bikers who will
win at all costs. Contains violence, drug use, and excessive foul language.
3:33AM
Every decision for life-changing events happened at 3:33
in the morning.
Or so his father claimed.
To Mortician, though, three thirty three represented
something different. Symbolized half of evil and, when put together, created a
whole.
Six fucking six six, divided by two, equaled half of
fucking Satan. Fitting. Sharper and Charlemagne Banks equaled the demonic
fucking duo. One couldn’t work without the other. Therefore, life-changing
events always took place at three fucking thirty-three—because Fat &
Skinny, Evil & Eviler, Slicker & Slickest, worked together.
Muscles twitching in anger, Mortician hunkered down in the
pew, glaring at the overcrowded pulpit and searching the choir stand for Char
as Sharper’s voice droned on.
Mortician had spent too many Sundays, Tuesdays,
Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays in this fucking building. As the
membership grew and Sharper’s pockets swelled, their status inched up. And the
fucking deceit went out of control.
A flash of silver material caught his eye and Mortician
shifted, angling his head to get a better glimpse of her. Char. Still gorgeous
with her dusky skin, high cheekbones, and slanted eyes. Bitch couldn’t compare
to Bailey, though.
Not wanting to think of Bailey right now because he needed
to keep calm to get to her, Mortician gritted his teeth and shifted, scowling
at the imperious lift of the brow from the older suited-up motherfucker next to
him. Suit and tie bent and whispered something to his wife and she peeked
around her husband. She was younger, could have been his daughter, except for
the way the man buzzed her lips with his own.
Unable to help himself, Mortician winked at her. Sadity,
stuck-up, society bitch, who would open her legs to him in a minute. He tried
his best to stay away from married bitches, a certain cop’s wife being the
exception.
The nose-far-enough-in-the-air-to-drown-in-a-drizzle
motherfucker angled his body toward Mortician in clear warning.
He wanted a dick measuring contest here? In church? Really?
If not for the maid he’d bribed—well, the knife to her
throat had helped—he’d be bored as a motherfucker listening to his father’s
baritone voice singing Praise Is What I
Do.
He needed to act normal. If his dad thought for one minute
that Mortician knew he had Bailey, he’d give the order and have her killed.
That thought fucked with his head, so Mortician leaned
over to fuck with Mr. Asshole and Mrs. Sadity. “If your dick too limp from all
the steroids you must fucking take to get so built, I’ll fuck her for you.”
Anger lit the man’s dark eyes. Finally, some fucking
entertainment. But it didn’t ease the ache in Mortician’s chest.
He needed Bailey.
No. He needed to get Bailey safe. He didn’t need her. He’d needed his mother and
he’d needed Charlemagne and he’d had his heart ripped out both times.
Give it up, asshole. You
need Bailey. You want her. You love her.
So now he was hearing romantic fucking voices in his head?
Fuck off. He’d prefer to talk to his dick. Once upon a time, he’d named it
Roscoe.
Had he ever told Bailey that his dick’s name was Roscoe?
Had he even remembered? There wasn’t much he remembered when he was around
Bailey. She consumed him.
Mortician shook a little, almost unable to remain in his
seat and pretend she wasn’t somewhere in one of the million rooms of this
mega-church.
He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. But, mostly, he
wanted to fucking kill. And he would. Brutally and viciously. Slowly and
methodically.
Spotify Playlist:
Kathryn
Kelly is living her dream and writing books. She's always been an avid reader
and still devours books in her spare time. She also enjoys football,
socializing, music, eating, and jokes. In her head, she's the ultimate biker
babe. In reality, she's an ordinary girl-next-door and a native New Orleanian.
1.Tell
us a bit about yourself?
I’m a single mom. At the moment I have no
significant other because my kids and my writing occupy most of my time.
2.
When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?
Years ago! It wasn’t until 2013 that I got the
courage to write my own stories.
3.
Who are your literary role models?
So many! Frank Yerby, Madeline Sheehan, Sidney
Sheldon, Eloisa James, Katy Evans, Sabrina Jeffries…to name a few.
4.
What do you like to do when you're not writing?
I enjoy reading, listening to music (which I
also do during edits), going to the movies, eating, throwing parties.
5.
Out of all the books you've written, do you have a favourite? If so which one?
Misled is my favorite because it was the first
book I wrote.
6.
What inspired the Death Dweller's MC Series?
Outlaw inspired me, once I met him in a dream
and he lived with me for days until I sat and wrote about him.
7.
All the covers are absolutely amazing for this series. What was the idea behind
each one?
With each cover, we were trying to capture the
essence of their personalities. Outlaw and that smirk on Misled. He seems like
a man who owns the world and knows it. Johnnie seems so likeable, even
approachable. In the books, he is. He’s the businessman, after all. But he’s
also a killer, the worst of them all. Val’s cover shows a carefree man, who
lives for the road, and yet he’s haunted by his past. Mortician seems to be the
quiet thinker. Again, he is everyone’s sounding board and he’s more than happy
to give advice, but he isn’t quiet and he is the club enforcer so his outward
appearance hides the heart of him. And Digger…Digger’s cover shows him as he is
seen—an outlaw biker. But it doesn’t reveal the man who looks up to his brother
and is desperate to save Mortician from the wrath of their father.
8.
All the members of the Death Dweller's MC are headstrong, intense characters.
How do you go about writing them?
It gets difficult because each of their
personalities intrude on one another’s stories. However, the strongest and most
intense one of all, Outlaw, drowns out everyone else’s voice. When I get him
out the way, then I can hear the main characters of the stories I’m writing.
He’s the only one I can’t ever get in line. I’ve even had to write
Misappropriate and Misjudged because his voice was so strong.
9.
Do you have a character that is close to your heart from this series? If so who
and what makes them so special
Christopher “Outlaw” Caldwell. He’s crude but
he also tells it like it is and he has an amazing ability to read people and
situations. One of my readers called him “crudely brilliant” and the
description hits the nail right on the head.
10.
What's next on the agenda for you?
I haven’t quite decided
what’s next for me once I finish the Death Dwellers. I’m going to miss them 
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