From the Bookshelf of C.D.'s Canaries…

If life was a tapestry, already threaded and steadfast, then he was the scissors that cut me free. He tore me out, stole me away, changed the whole prophecy of who I was meant to be.

Advanced copy received by Grand Central Publishing via NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.

WOOT! WHAT JUST HAPPENED!!!

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Then my life ended as our gazes connected.

Green to green. I have green eyes.

Down and down I spiraled, deeper and deeper into his clutches. My life—past, present, and future—lost all purpose the second I stared into his soul.

The fear I’d been missing slammed into my heart. I quivered. I quaked. S

WOOT! WHAT JUST HAPPENED!!!

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Then my life ended as our gazes connected.

Green to green. I have green eyes.

Down and down I spiraled, deeper and deeper into his clutches. My life—past, present, and future—lost all purpose the second I stared into his soul.

The fear I’d been missing slammed into my heart. I quivered. I quaked. Something howled deep inside with age-old knowledge.

Every part of me arched toward him, then shied away in terror.

Him.

A nightmare come to life.

A nightmare I wanted to live.

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This book is a clusterfuck of my emotions and brain cells.

With this book I mark my first read of Pepper Winters. I knew she wrote dark but this book was promised less of that but not by much... she delivered. Biker themed books are my FAVORITE so I got my hands on a copy ASAP. Revved my motor... forgot the helmet 'cause I'm bookish dangerous like that and dug in!

To call this book a rollercoaster of events would be an understatement. I will be honest, there were some parts of this book that I really loved and some that just dragged on for me. Without spoilers some things could have moved a bit faster IMHO. Maybe I was seeking a meaning in every little hint and snipped of clues that made me feel like I may have unraveled the whole story from the beginning... but then BAM and everything would get flipped and make me doubt myself... Kudos Pepper. You did an awesome job of keeping us readers thoroughly confused and seeking answers with much vigor as our main characters.

KILL is President of a Motorcycle Club Pure Corruption and he totally lives by their motto of "Pure in Thoughts and Vengeance. Corrupt in all Things that Matter." He is genius whiz in math and manipulating of the stock market. He knows how to use his fists. He is a president of a successful Motorcycle Club. He is a model citizen according to all honors that were given to him. He is a master genius of all trades BUT the one thing he is all about is REVENGE. He lives and breathes it and devoted all 9 years of his life to punish the people who took his childhood love from him. He survived jail, he built connections that gave him power, money and his club all in the name of revenge.

Cue any night of a shady club business of trading women, throw in some violence and sprinkle some 'fate' and you have an explosion of events that make a great story.

SHE wakes up gagged and bound in a middle of a human trafficking trade and worst part she has no idea who she is and what she is doing there. But with one collide of their eyes their fates are changed yet again. She reminds him so much of his dead love... which draws him in and angers him more as it gives him hope. Something that he has denied himself for so long that the concept of human emotions is a foreign concept. Losing HER changed him and made him a revenge machine. No human contact. No ties... but could this girl who suddenly appeared in front of him be her replacement? And why now?

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I stared up, up, up into his bright green eyes, understanding something I shouldn’t understand. This was him. My nightmare.

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I rarely say that about a Heroine but I loved her! I loved her strength. I loved her perseverance in everything getting the truth out of her mind, out of Kill, and ultimately the truth of their violent separation that left her an amnesiac.

In the end everything in their world is layers upon layers of deceit and mistrust. The way the story unfolds with not much support of secondary character developments it is hard to grab a feel of the true motives of some people, who I hope are good. I couldn't trust anyone except our destined lovers and even then it was iffy. There was so much happening that even the few snippets we get from Kill's POV in beginning of each new chapter it was all more cryptic then enlightening. It will totally be a true test of their love and motivation for justice/truth living through their story... LIVING is the operative word being here because honestly I am not sure. I'm all for HEA but from what I took there are no people they can trust fully. However, I hope I am oh so wrong here.

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He’s my secret. Kill the biker president had replaced my soul mate, Art. I just had to learn how to love both of them—despite what he’d done.

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Overall, I truly enjoyed this book even if the CLIFFHANGER was the WORST!!! In the end this book had it all bikers, hot sex, revenge, childhood love, more revenge, finding love, even more revenge... and keeping your one true love... I can not wait for book 2 in this Saga... mostly because I need ANSWERS NOW NOW NOW!!!

Taking a deep breath, I helped him undo the heavy silver buckle, then locked eyes with him as he popped the top button and moved his and away from the zipper.

We didn’t speak, but something so sharp and in tune hung between us. It spoke in whispered verse, in barely acknowledged lyrics.

Kill cleared his throat.

I didn’t move.

Then my fingers fluttered over the most private part of him, grasping his zipper and tugging slowly, oh so slowly down.

He gritted his teeth. His jeans gaped open, showing dark grey boxer- briefs.

He arched his hips, giving me space to yank them down.

My eyes flew briefly to the gun resting beneath the desk. I could crawl to it within seconds. I could hold it to his head while I stood and walked away. He wouldn’t die—not now that I’d stemmed the bleeding.

I didn’t need to ask questions. I’d been given all I needed to know.

But I couldn’t.

I just couldn’t.

The only sound was the clunk of his heavy jeans as they slipped off his large legs. His hips fell back onto the cold tiles and my eyes latched onto a huge art piece encapsulating his entire left leg. The design was of crashing waves with hidden symbols, equations, and promises hidden in the froth. A girl, whose red hair flowed up with the tide and disappeared into his boxers, smiled sexily, while her green mermaid’s tail kissed his knee. The damn Libra sign was in there, too—

repeatedover and over—yet another reminder of something I’d forgotten.

“You aren’t anything like I expected a biker lord to be like.”

“You had expectations? That’s dangerous.”

I tensed, wanting to trace the beautiful colors on his leg. “Regardless, it seems we have something in common,” I whispered.

He breathed hard, kicking away the material by his feet. His eyes fell to my T‑shirt- covered side, almost as if he could see my tattoo beneath the cloth. “Seems so.”

His cryptic reply sent my nipples stiffening. Something undeniable drew me to him. Something I doubted I would ever be able to understand.

I jerked into action.

Grabbing the first fluffy white towel, I tapped his hip. “Up. I’ll put this beneath you.”

He smirked. “If you’re worried about getting the tiles wet, don’t

bother.”

I scowled. “It’s for you. You’re freezing. Your body has been through enough.”

He froze; his eyes searched mine, deeper, harder than anyone before. “Who are you?” he breathed again. “Why the fuck do you care if I’m uncomfortable or bleeding to death?”

“Did you have someone to take care of you?” I hated the thought that another woman had been close to him.

I’m jealous.

He never stopped staring. “What does it matter?”

“Why is it such a mystery to be cared for? I can’t let you die.”

“Any other girl would’ve pulled that trigger the moment she got her hands on the gun.”

I asked, “If I hadn’t helped you, who would? You live alone. Those men at the compound seemed like half were on your side and half weren’t. You have a first aid kit stocked with things I doubt are legal, yet you’re amazed that I’m willing to stop you dying. I think the main question is—who are you?”

Tell me.

He didn’t respond for a minute, raising his hips again for me to spread the towel beneath him. His boxer-briefs were so tight they didn’t hide the very obvious outline of his large but flaccid cock.

His tone dropped to a curse. “No one.”