Griffin Storm wasn’t prone to violence, but when someone takes what Griffin holds dear, the world as he knows it is gone.
Retaliation, revenge and rage fuels him. His MC, The Uncertain Saint’s, do their best to offer support, but Griffin is beyond redemption. He’ll do what he has to do. Kill who he has to kill.
He doesn’t care if that means he dies. If it gets him what he wants, then it’s worth it.
He fakes it all until the night he walks into a sex shop for batteries and lays eyes on a woman that will change his life.
Lenore makes him think past tomorrow. Makes him want to see just what the future might bring.
But his life’s a dangerous one built around pain and deception, and not for the faint of heart.
He won’t give up the past, not until he’s done what he promised to do.
And if that means she’s not there when the dust settles, he’ll risk it.
Lenore, though, won’t give up on him. She’ll fix him, whether he wants her to or not.
“I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’m Lani Lynn Vale’s #1 fan. I love her work, I’ve read all of it, and a lot of it I’ve read more than once. I’m thrilled with the direction she’s going in with the Uncertain Saints MC series. There is a clear and distinct difference to Vale’s writing here. Her voice is a bit edgier in Whiskey Neat, and it absolutely had me sitting up to take notice.” ~Danielle from Red Cheeks Reads
“Whiskey Neat is a great start to her new series, with feisty heroines and hotter hero’s. I can’t wait for the next in this series” ~Erica from A One-Click Addict’s Book Blog
“I have LOVED LOVED LOVED every book that I’ve read by this author, and Whiskey Neat is no exception.” ~Jennifer from The Power of Three Readers
“Come on, Doogan,” I urged, giving his collar a tug.
Doogan didn’t budge, which was why I had a front row seat as a man sailed over the railing of Mr. Marshall’s porch, and landed about ten feet away from where I was standing.
“Oh, my God,” I breathed.
I didn’t move, though, because the man was suddenly surrounded.
Men in leather were everywhere…but the one man that held my attention was stomping down the porch steps and heading straight to the man on the ground.
Griffin, the man who’d bought batteries from me just two days ago, was well and truly pissed.
When his eyes swung to me, I didn’t know what to do.
Question after question barreled through my mind, leaving me shaking in fear…and something else I wasn’t ready to admit to just yet.
I blinked, looking to my left and right to be sure he was talking to me.
Since I didn’t see anyone else around me, I decided he was talking to me, but I just couldn’t get my legs to cooperate out of fear.
Not to mention that I would have to walk through the lot of them to get to my house.
When I didn’t move fast enough, he issued the order again, only this time it was biting.
I turned on my heel and started walking, coming to a sudden stop when Doogan still refused to move.
“Mother of God,” I whispered. “Come on Doog,” I whispered frantically. “Let’s go.”
He did move, just not in the correct direction.
No, he walked straight up to Griffin and licked his hand, a hand that was stuck out, not in invitation to approach, but instead to stop the dog from getting too close to him.
“Can’t you control your fuckin’ dog?” He grated out angrily.
Tears were stinging my eyes, because, by that point, I had the attention of not just Griffin, but the whole freakin’ lot of them.
My heart was beating frantically in my chest as they watched me, and I just knew that if I didn’t get the hell out of there I’d get the hell beaten out of me…or worse.
“Where do you live?” Griffin asked, taking a hold of Doogan’s leash.
It slipped from my hands, and I watched in helpless horror as it did.
He freakin’ followed him!
“Umm,” I whispered. “Three duplexes down from here.”
“Be back,” Griffin said as he took my hand in his free one and started to walk me back to my house.
The men returned their stares on the man they were circling, and I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see one of the big ones kick the poor guy on the ground next to his feet.
He didn’t say a word, and neither did I.
What if he beat the shit out of me?
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Griffin growled, interrupting my inner diatribe.
He snorted. “Stop shaking. I said I wouldn’t harm you. I’m a cop.”
Yeah, but good cops didn’t beat the shit out of people in the dark of night.