Down & Dirty: Dawg
Dirty Angels MC, Book 7
By Jeanne St. James
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Blurb:
Welcome to Shadow Valley
where the Dirty Angels MC rules. Get ready to get Down & Dirty because this
is Dawg’s story…
She has a secret. But
little does she know, so does he.
With a past he’s not proud of and a secret only
recently discovered, Dawg’s life is about to change when a kindergarten teacher
walks into Heaven’s Angels Gentlemen’s Club, a DAMC business he’s run for the
past fifteen years. With no experience, her dancing sucks but he can’t deny the
woman’s determination to get the job and, against his better judgement, hires
her anyway. While her girl-next-door
looks may be good for business, he’s not ready for someone like Emma to walk
into his life.
Emma’s desperate. She not only needs a lot of cash,
but needs it quickly. Recently unemployed and with nowhere else to turn, she
takes a drastic step by auditioning at Dawg’s club. When he finds out her
secret, he’s willing to go above and beyond to help her. However, Emma has no
idea how a bearded, tattooed biker and strip club manager can help when law
enforcement can’t.
Coming from two different worlds, Dawg’s life needs
to change drastically to make things work, but is he willing to give up almost
everything he’s ever known for Emma?
Note: This book can be read
as a standalone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, biker slang, cursing, some
violence and, of course, an HEA. If you like alpha males who like to take
charge, this book is for you.
Excerpt:
Emma
shut her car off and took a slow, deep breath. She glanced down at her outfit
one more time. She made sure to pick something out of her closet this time that
might not reflect her day job.
Or
what used to be her day job. Before she had been “let go.” Like those words
softened the blow.
They
didn’t.
She
needed this job at Heaven’s Angels. The school year was over, and no one was
hiring teachers anywhere at the moment. And even if they were, the salary
wouldn’t be enough for her needs.
So,
she had dragged out her oldest snug jeans with a ripped-out knee, her tightest
blouse—leaving enough buttons undone to give him a good eye full of her
cleavage—and yanked on an old pair of heels she found at the back of her
closet. Unfortunately, her feet were already killing her and all she did was
walk in them out to her car.
She
also had given the club manager plenty of time to cool down while she went
home, got on the internet and did some research. Who knew that YouTube was a
wealth of information on how to strip?
After
dragging out her full-length mirror, she’d set her laptop up where she could
see it and practiced for the past few hours. Until she was pretty sure she had
a routine down pat.
When
she came back more determined than ever to show this strip club manager how
serious she was, she found the front door to the club locked. Not willing to
give up that easily, she drove around back hoping she’d find another entrance.
Like an employee entrance. A way to get back inside and beg for a second
chance.
As
she was preparing herself mentally in what she could assume was the employee
parking lot, another car pulled up next to her and a female got out.
Emma
scrambled from her car and called out to her. “Hi!” She added a little wave to
be extra friendly, to show she was harmless and not some stripper stalker.
The
woman wrestled a huge purse out of the car and slammed the door shut, before
turning and giving Emma a suspicious look. “Yeah?”
“I...
uh... I’m looking for Dawson.”
The
platinum blonde gave Emma the side-eye and a frown. “Dawson?”
What
the hell was his nickname? Doug? Dog? Ah...
“Dawg.”
A
knowing look crossed the other woman’s face. “It’s early yet. He’s probably up
in his place.” She lifted her chin toward the back steps of the building.
“His
place?”
The
blonde pursed her bright red lips and studied Emma for a second. Probably
wondering if she was some psycho bitch ready to take down her boss. “Yeah, he
lives above the club. In the apartment there.”
Emma
glanced up and saw a light on in one of the windows. When she dropped her gaze,
the dancer was gone and the back door with the sign “Employees Only” was
shutting.
“Hey!” Damn it. She was hoping the woman would
be willing to give her some pointers.
She
sighed, then wobbled in her heels over to the metal steps to stare up them.
She
was about to put herself in a position she knew better than to put herself in.,
but she had no choice. A minimum wage job just wouldn’t cut it. She needed
cash, and she needed a lot of it as soon as possible. And the banks refused to
loan it to her. She had no assets, no income, nothing.
Not
even family to beg, borrow or steal from.
She
was desperate, and she was not leaving until she had this job.
She
would do whatever she had to do to get her daughter back.
The
first step was the most difficult and once she took that, Emma hurried up the
rest of the stairs until she was staring at the plain steel door to this Dawg’s
apartment.
Taking
a bolstering breath, she raised her fist and rapped on the door.
She
waited.
Nothing.
She
knocked again.
Nothing.
The
third time she thumped as loud as she could. She got an answering shout but had
no idea of what it consisted of.
As
who-she-assumed-was-Dawg approached
the front door, she heard a muffled grumble and a curse.
Crap,
he was still in a bad mood. That didn’t bode well for her.
The
deadbolt clicked, and the door was thrown open.
Emma’s
jaw dropped, and she stepped back so quickly she teetered precariously in her
heels. Before she could catch her balance, two large hands grabbed her arms and
she was yanked upright hard enough to cause whiplash.
“What
the fuck?” he bellowed, making her wince. “What the fuck you doin’ here?”
His
gaze raked her from head to toe and Emma struggled to hide the shiver that
skittered down her spine.
That
shiver wasn’t from fear because, goodness
gracious, she couldn’t help but do the same to him. He was a big guy, that
was for sure. And this time, he was practically naked. Maybe not quite naked. But close enough, since he
only had a pair of unfastened jeans hanging off his hips like they had been
pulled on in haste.
His
dark blond hair was mussed, his narrowed emerald green eyes dark, and he wore
no shirt.
None
at all.
Holy moly.
Never
in her life had she seen a human being with so many tattoos.
So. Many. Tattoos.
About the Author:
JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today bestselling erotic romance
author who loves an alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started
writing. Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl
magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She
is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F
ménages. Want to read a sample of her work? Download a sampler book here: BookHip.com/MTQQKK
To keep up with her busy release schedule check her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup
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