Blaze of Honor (RBMC: South Australia Book 1)
Blaze of Honor
Royal Bastards MC: South Australia
Khloe Wren
BLAZE OF HONOR
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Royal Bastards MC:
South Australian Chapter
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Book 1
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KHLOE WREN
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ISBN: 978-0-6486896-5-2
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Copyright © Khloe Wren 2020
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Cover Credits:
Model: Roger Snipes
Photographer: Golden of Furious Fotog
Digital Artist: Jay Aheer of Simply Defined Art
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Editing Credits:
Editor: Carolyn Depew of Write Right
Proofreader: Miranda Beazley
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.
If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, please delete and purchase it legally. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Contents
Books by Khloe Wren
Acknowledgments
Biography
Royal Bastards Mc Series Second Run
Royal Bastards Code
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Up Next
Books by Khloe Wren
Charon MC:
Inking Eagle
Fighting Mac
Chasing Taz
Claiming Tiny
Saving Scout
Tripping Nitro
Scout’s Legacy
Mac’s Destiny
Losing Bash
Finding Needles
Forging Blade
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Fire and Snow:
Guardian’s Heart
Noble Guardian
Guardian’s Shadow
Fierce Guardian
Necessary Alpha
Protective Instincts
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Other Titles:
Fireworks
Bad Alpha Anthology
Scarred Perfection
Scandals: Zeck
Mirror Image Seduction
FireStarter
Deception
Kings of Sydney: Daniil
Acknowledgments
I think my husband and kids need some sort of award or medal or something after supporting me while I wrote this one! Down to the wire, I was working like a mad woman to get this done and my awesome family stepped up to help with everything so I could get it done.
To my editor, Carolyn, thank you for the continuous support and assistance with so much more than just editing. And for tolerating my last minuteness, again.
To everyone who’s answered my various call outs for information, thank you. I couldn’t get my books written without the assist (I really need to start writing down people’s names as I write books so I can list names here!).
To Crimson and the rest of the RBMC crew, thank you for letting play in your sandbox and take the club international! To KE Osborn, thanks for all the plotting chats and help, and for taking care of Spark for me before I could bring him home.
Also, I’d like to thank Christine Feehan for letting me mention her MC series, Torpedo Ink book, which I love, in this book.
A shout out to the University of Penn, for making their awesome certificates available to complete online. I’ve learned so much about Ancient Egypt and their culture.
My Night Writer sprint buddies, I can’t thank you all enough for keeping me going. And of course, my street team, thank you ladies for all your words of encouragement.
A note on the fires. 2019-2020 Australia spring/summer got named “Black Summer” due to the fires that burned so much of our country. As some of my readers are aware, I’m a volunteer firefighter myself and helped fight the local fires here in South Australia. While I’ve referenced to a few locations where there were actual fires, the dates are changed for the sake of the story. And obviously, the real fires weren’t started by paranormal elements *wink*.
I’d like to also note the significance to some of the names in this series. Brianna, Emily and Jessica are all named after the daughters of a past partner of mine. These girls had a damn rough start to life and I’m so glad to be able to finally have the perfect stories to give them some fictional badassary and happiness. (James, if you see this, you’ll get your story too, I just haven’t found the perfect fit for you yet!).
I’ve been looking forward to writing this book for a long time! Egyptian mythology, fires, kickass heroine, bikers… and it’s set here in my home state, South Australia! I hope you all enjoy this book, and series as much I have enjoyed writing it!
xo
Khloe Wren
Biography
Khloe Wren lives in rural South Australia with her husband, two daughters and an ever changing list of animals!
She started writing in 2013 and has published over 30 books since then in the romantic suspense genre. She writes both paranormal and contemporary stories, including her best selling series Charon MC.
Khloe enjoys writing outside of the box and she loves her heroes strong, and her heroines even stronger.
Royal Bastards Mc Series Second Run
E.C. Land: Cyclone of Chaos
Chelle C. Craze & Eli Abbot: Ghoul
Scarlett Black: Ice
Elizabeth Knox: Rely On Me
J.L. Leslie: Worth the Risk
Deja Voss: Lean In
Khloe Wren: Blaze of Honor
Misty Walker: Birdie’s Biker
J. Lynn Lombard: Capone’s Chaos
Ker Dukey: Rage
Crimson Syn: Scarred By Pain
M. Merin: Declan
Elle Boon: Royally F**ked
Rae B. Lake: Death and Paradise
K Webster: Copper
Glenna Maynard: Tempting the Biker
K.L. Ramsey: Whiskey Tango
Kristine Allen: Angel
Nikki Landis:Devil’s Ride
KE Osborn: Luring Light
CM Genovese: Pipe Dreams
Nicole James: Club Princess
Shannon Youngblood: Leather & Chrome
Erin Trejo: Unbreak Me
Winter Travers: Six Gun
Izzy Sweet & Sean Moriarty: Broken Ties
Jax Hart: Desert Rose
Royal Bastards MC Facebook Group - https://www.facebook.com/groups/royalbastardsmc/
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Links can be found in our Website: www.royalbastardsmc.
com
Royal Bastards Code
Protect:
The club and your brothers come before anything else, and must be protected at all costs. CLUB is FAMILY.
RESPECT:
Earn it & Give it. Respect club law. Respect the patch. Respect your brothers. Disrespect a member and there will be hell to pay.
HONOR:
Being patched in is an honor, not a right. Your colors are sacred, not to be left alone, and NEVER let them touch the ground.
OLD LADIES:
Never disrespect a member’s or brother’s Old Lady. PERIOD.
CHURCH is MANDATORY.
LOYALTY:
Takes precedence over all, including well-being.
HONESTY:
Never LIE, CHEAT, or STEAL from another member or the club.
TERRITORY:
You are to respect your brother’s property and follow their Chapter’s club rules.
TRUST:
Years to earn it...seconds to lose it.
NEVER RIDE OFF:
Brothers do not abandon their family.
Prologue
Drake, New South Wales, Australia
Brianna
I froze mid slice when large hands landed on my shoulders, my heart racing at the unexpected contact.
“Shit.”
The hands lifted away but before I could turn, my headphones were moved down so they hung around my neck.
“Don’t swear, possum.”
I pulled my phone out and hit pause on the audio book I was listening to before I turned my attention to my father with a wince at his reprimand.
“Sorry, Dad. You scared the hell out of me. I didn’t realize you were home.”
He worked as the night manager at the small hotel in town but didn’t normally get home until after I was done with breakfast and out in my studio. When I glanced over my shoulder, I saw he was still in his shirt and tie so must have just walked through the door.
He shook his head before nodding toward my headphones. “You’d have heard me come through the door if you didn’t have that thing turned up so loud. You’ll ruin your hearing.”
I rolled my eyes. “Uh huh. Sure, Dad.”
Despite the fact he’d always listened to music turned way up, he railed at me when I did the same thing. However, my addiction was audio books, not music, like him. Sadly, his worry over my hearing was the least of his concerns. For as far back as I could remember, he’d always coddled me. I was never allowed to participate in sports in school, not that I actually wanted to. And even now that I was an adult, he hadn’t stopped trying to limit my activities. I was pretty sure if I’d let him, he’d still cut my meat for me at dinner. I doubted he’d ever accept that I wasn’t that weak, injured child anymore.
I’d been a toddler when a car had crashed into the daycare center I’d been in. I couldn’t remember anything about the accident or the hospital afterwards. But the scars I bore were testament to the injuries I’d suffered. We’d been living in Newcastle back then, but as soon as I was healed enough that I could leave the hospital, my father moved us out here. No more cities for us, he’d told me. They were too dangerous. Too busy.
I didn’t mind. Well, mostly I didn’t mind. The way he worried over every little scrape or cut I had, like I was some sort of fragile flower that the wind would blow over, got old fast. But living out in the wilderness of New South Wales suited me perfectly. I wasn’t sure if I was naturally reclusive, or if it was a side effect of how I’d been raised, but I hated being around lots of people. I preferred my own company and being left alone to work in my studio.
We lived just north of Drake, a small township that sat a little inland from the coast in the north-eastern corner of New South Wales. Our house was surrounded by trees and scrub, and our closest neighbors were a good distance away so I had all the seclusion and peace I could possibly desire. Especially since with Dad working nights, we didn’t actually see each other all that much. At twenty-two I knew I was old to still be living at home with my father, but it didn’t make sense for me to move. I had my workshop here and the house was big enough that we each had plenty of space for ourselves. The kitchen and laundry were the only common areas we shared, so for the most part it felt more like I had a housemate rather than a father. And by living at home, my costs were low enough I could live off the money I made selling my art.
“What are your plans for today?”
“Full day out in my workshop. I need to get that bed ready to be sprayed first thing tomorrow.”
The custom order bed on which I was currently carving a large dragon into the headboard was on a tight deadline. I needed to get all the details finished off and sanded so I could get the first coat of varnish on in the morning before the heat kicked in tomorrow. Summer had arrived early in Australia and even though it was only September, we were already getting scorching-hot days.
Damn heat wave.
The experts were already warning we were in for a long, hot summer and I was not thrilled. I earned my living mostly by selling custom timber furniture that I handcrafted. Intense heat did not mix well with getting stains, paints and varnishes to dry without faults appearing in the finish.
Lifting my knife again, I got back to chopping up the vegetables I was prepping for my morning omelet.
“Okay, well, don’t work too hard. I’m going to go shower and crash for a few hours before I head out to my shop. I might see you for lunch.”
He leaned over and pressed a kiss to my temple before he strode out of the room, leaving me on my own again. Resetting my headphones, I re-wound the audio book a little, then hit play. Instantly Jim Frangione’s deep voice filled my ear as he read Christine Feehan’s Vengeance Road, letting me run off with the sexy Russian bikers once more.
I wasn’t joking when I said I was addicted to audio books. They were my jam. I mixed up listening to both non-fiction and fiction. I loved learning new things, but I also loved being able to sink into another world where I could be an outgoing badass who kicked butt and won the heart of the hero.
Dad often joked that he’d have to get my headphones surgically removed from me one day, and he might be right. I used to read more when I was younger, but now I’d discovered my passion with woodwork, I didn’t have much time to just sit around with a book in my hands. Since I’d already been wearing earmuffs for much of my work out in my studio due to the noise levels of the electric tools I used, I did my research and found my current headphones. Noise-cancelling over ear headphones that blocked out nearly all the sound around me and meant I could listen to my favorite books all day long while I worked.
The only downside was I couldn’t hear anything else, either. Dad often had to physically come and get me if he needed my help with something. Other than the odd comment about his concern for my hearing, he didn’t seem to mind too much that I spent so much time in my own world. He did the same thing, so I guess he understood.
As much as I loved my life as it was and was content to live through the characters in my books, there were times it wasn’t enough. Occasionally I got lonely and thought about going into town to see if I could meet someone. Find someone to at least befriend. But I’d never quite made it off the property those nights. It didn’t help that I’d always been shy. Painfully so. The outside world had always seemed way too big, busy and loud. I’d love my dad forever for bringing us out here to this place. It was my haven. My safe place and I would happily never leave.
Lost in Steele and Breezy’s story, I made fast work of finishing my breakfast, then heading out the rear door and making my way over to my studio. Both my and Dad’s workshops were separate from the house. I often made a lot of noise and dust as I worked, while Dad’s leather tanning was seriously rank most days. Neither of us wanted any of that shit in the house.
Pushing through the door, I went straight over to the headboard and paused. Grinning, I ran my fingers over the detailed scales I’d added to the neck yesterday. I loved how they’d turned out.
Today I needed to finish off the head, detailing the eyes and teeth before I’d be ready to start sanding.
Sliding on my safety glasses, I reached for my set of small chisels. But they weren’t where I’d left them. With a frown, I looked around my workspace, moving things about, but couldn’t find the case anywhere. Where the hell was it? I’d sharpened the whole set at the end of the day yesterday because I’d known I’d be using them today. Once I was done with them, I’d left the case on my work bench next to my hammer and other tools I’d need today. But it definitely wasn’t there now. Had Dad decided to do some work of his own last night before he’d left for work? Although I had no clue what he’d need chisels for, since he only tanned leather. I’d never seen him use one, but I couldn’t think of any other reason why they weren’t here. It wasn’t like someone would have broken in and just taken that one set.