Riptide MC, Book 4
Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense
Date Published: September 5, 2025
Janet -- Thor is an addiction I can’t seem to overcome. He’s
everything I’ve ever wanted in a man, and everything I can never have.
They call him Thor for a reason -- he looks like a modern-day Viking with that
shaggy blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and ropes of muscles covered in
intricate tattoos. And in bed the man is definitely a god who grants my every
secret desire. I walked away from the marriage my parents tried to force me
into, but I’m not naive enough to think they’re going to let me
go. They have money. Power. Influence. They know how to bend people to their
will. They will make sure I marry someone they approve of, and it
doesn’t take a genius to figure out they will never approve of Thor.
Thor -- Janet is mine. I know she knows it, too. I can see it in her eyes,
hear it in her voice, feel it every time we make love. But she refuses to wear
my cut and freaks out if I mention anything permanent. I have no idea what the
fuck her issue is, but it doesn’t matter. I want her, and I’m
going to have her if it takes me the rest of my fucking life to convince her.
I want her to come to me willingly. I love her enough not to force her.
Now I just have to stay alive long enough for that to happen, because someone
wants me dead.
EXCERPT
Thor
Fuck, that woman frustrated the hell out of me! I knew there had to be a
reason she balked at making our relationship public, but she just kept evading
the issue. I was a hair’s breadth away from having Shadow snoop into her
and see what was up. I knew that would cross a line, but I wasn’t sure
it was one I cared about. Did she have an ex she didn’t want me to know
about? Or one that still had a legal claim on her? Because I could fix that
without breaking a sweat.
She didn’t act like someone running from an ex though. It had a
different feel to it, and that’s what scared me. More like she
didn’t want people to know about me because they thought she could do
better. Admittedly, she probably could but that was just too bad. I had her
now, and I had no intention of letting her go.
“Cassie, huh?” I looked at Joker.
He shrugged. “Like I said, we met at the tattoo parlor. She was getting
a dragonfly on the back of her shoulder. Said it was in honor of her
grandmother who’d had a thing for them.”
“And?”
“And we got to talking. You know. Families. Life. Shit like that. Ended
up at the steakhouse for dinner, and I invited her to come watch the races
with me today.”
I nodded. “So not a long-standing secret affair you’ve kept from
the club all this time?”
He smirked. “You mean like you and Janet? Nah. At least not yet. I
haven’t told her about Riptide.”
I sighed. Everyone except Janet seemed to be aware of our status.
A ruckus over at the far side of the room caught my attention. Two burly guys
were half leading, half dragging a woman toward the back exit, and she was not
going willingly. Squirming and letting out muffled screams through the hand
one of them had over her mouth.
“Fuck. Looks like she needs a hand. I’ll be back in a
minute.”
“Need me for backup?”
The two were nearly at the door, one swearing loudly as the woman stomped on
his foot. “Two against one? I think I can handle it. Keep Janet amused
for me.”
Joker laughed. “No problem. I’ll tell her about the time you
thought the monkey crying in the jungle was a kid and just about got yourself
killed going to rescue it.”
“Asshole.” I stood and shouldered my way across the floor to the
trio. By the time I reached them, they’d manhandled the girl outside and
the door was closing behind them.
“Not so fast, guys.” I pushed the door open and stepped outside,
ready for a little exercise. I hadn’t been in a decent fight in weeks.
As the door snapped shut behind me, I saw the girl standing alone on the far
side of the alley. In the second that it took for my brain to register that, a
fist slammed into the side of my head.
Ambush!
Fuck!
Not my first one though, and I ducked low, twisting to the left as a second
blow glanced off my shoulder. I brought my fists up to protect my head, and
aimed a roundhouse kick at my assailant, connecting with a satisfyingly meaty
thud that drove him backward.
The second guy was quick, and he had a knife. Holding it low, he slashed
upward.
I jumped back, and the blade traced a shallow path across my abs.
He bared his teeth and came at me again.
I kicked low, hitting his knee and causing him to stumble. Out of the corner
of my eye, I saw the girl turn and run, waving to my attackers as she headed
out of the alley.
Fucking slut wasn’t waiting around to see the outcome.
The first guy came in from the side, pummeling me with his fists. I ducked to
the side, getting my back against the wall so they couldn’t come at me
from behind.
Still, two against one, with one of the two brandishing a knife.
Didn’t look good, but I wasn’t going out without a fight. Fuck
that. Vikings had coined the term berserker, and they didn’t call me
Thor for nothing.
Letting out a furious battle cry, I threw myself at the knife-wielding thug. I
got in a few good shots with my fists before a searing pain lanced through me.
A quick glance down showed a crimson gash open up on my side.
Ignoring the pain, I grasped his wrist, the one holding the deadly blade, and
twisted. The knife arched back, and wussy let out a scream of agony as it bit
into his flesh. He dropped to his knees, and I turned to protect myself from
his buddy.
The next few minutes stretched out like a slow-motion movie. At this point in
my life, hand to hand combat was second nature.
Attack.
Defend.
Kick.
Twist out of reach.
Punch.
Duck under the next blow.
I could do this on autopilot, like a choreographed dance. If not for the wound
at my side, I would have made mincemeat out of this clown in minutes.
I was holding my own, but I could feel my strength waning as a crimson trail
of blood dripped from the knife wound. Not as shallow as I’d first
thought.
My breathing was labored. My hits had less strength behind them. The pain was
getting harder to ignore. I wasn’t going to last much longer but damned
if I wasn’t going to take this asshole down with me.
Just as the thug came at me yet again, baring his teeth behind a split and
swollen lip, the door slammed open, and Joker entered the fray. He might be a
medic, dedicated to healing but that didn’t mean he couldn’t
fight. Faced with a fresh opponent, and his sidekick lying motionless on the
concrete, the coward turned tail and ran.
“What the hell, man?” Joker took a few steps after the asshole to
make sure he was gone, then turned back to me. He grabbed my arm, gently
lowering me to the ground. “Where’s the girl?”
“Ambush.” I grasped my injured side, wincing. “She bailed
somewhere between the first punch and the knife.”
Joker eyed up the assailant lying motionless on the ground. “You had a
knife on you?”
I shook my head. “Nah. He brought it. I just turned it back on
him.”
About the Author
Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue
dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many
fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but
finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate
was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and
just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then
she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all
with a happily ever after.
She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending
time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing
with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing
guitar, singing and of course, reading.
Author Links
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Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress
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