El Diablo by Marteeka Karland #NewRelease #HolidayRomance #MCromance @marteekakarland

 

Jezebel – Life in a gilded cage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be – especially if the whole purpose of the cage is to keep me a virgin till I’m ready to be sacrificed to the man of my father’s choosing. I want out, and don’t think I haven’t tried. It’s not that easy with Daddy’s Brotherhood guards all over the place. But that doesn’t mean I want to trade one cage for another. And, let’s face it, I have no idea how to live on my own. I’ve never had the chance. Now I’m not sure I want to learn, because my new jailer – err, rescuer -- is the sexiest man I’ve ever known. El Diablo’s not the monster everyone’s made him out to be. But can I tame the beast of a man without losing my heart? All I want for Christmas is a chance to find out…

El Diablo -- I went hunting for a victim. Instead, I found a Christmas Angel. She’s the daughter of my enemy, used as a pawn in a deadly game of chess. All I really wanted was the Brotherhood out of Palm Beach. Instead I found an innocent who brings out a side of me I’d thought long buried and gone. But Jezebel’s younger than my own daughter, and just as much trouble. And I’m El Diablo -- a title I earned heart and soul. I’m so not what she needs. And now she’s under my protection in the Black Reign compound. She should be completely off-limits. I won’t let the Brotherhood take her back and force her to give up her dreams. But who’s going to protect her from me?

WARNING: Contains explicit violence and scenes of dubious consent. As always, there is a HEA and no cliffhangers.


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WHAT ARE REVIEWERS SAYING?

"OMG! He was totally worth the wait!!!! I love El Diablo & Jezebel she is the perfect match for the leader of Black Reign!" - Melissa, Goodreads

"OH MY GOSH!!!!! El Diablo is EVERYTHING you could hope he'd be. He's HOT, HOT, HOT, FLAMING HOT!!!!!!!!" - G, Goodreads

"Wow, just wow! El Diablo is so much more than I expected. I lost myself in these characters and pages." - Andrea, Goodreads


EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2021 Marteeka Karland

El Diablo

Sitting off in the distance next to a densely wooded area, the house looked like something out of a horror movie. Sure, the grounds were immaculate and the structure itself a beautiful, Gothic architecture, but with the trees bare of leaves and the full moon hovering above it with a halo of fog around it, not to mention the tall, imposing fencing with razor wire surrounding it… Yeah. The place could have been an asylum in a slasher film.

From what I’d found out from Drago and Pretty Boy, the girl I had been searching for was being held in this house. Had been in this house her entire life. Not just living there. By all accounts, she’d never once left it.

“No change, Liam,” El Segador -- the Reaper -- said to me on our personal line. He was one of a very few people who knew my real name. Mainly because we’d grown up together, and he’d willingly followed me for close to thirty years. “She’s still on the upper floor. West wing. Giovanni swears he got it right, and that there’s a tracker on her person.”

“Very well. Is there any way to get in and contain her before we breach the house from below?”

“Negative. Security equipment’s too sensitive. You can go up the side of the house and breach from the roof, but Giovanni says the only viable entrance opens up two rooms away from her. You’ll still have to navigate the hallway, which is probably full of Malcolm’s men.”

“That’s my entry. You come up from below and eliminate as many as you can… quietly. If I need a distraction, you call in the boys, and you’re it.”

“Copy that.”

I switched to the team channel. “It’s a go. El Segador and I will enter first. Other than that, follow the plan.”

“Not comfortable with that, boss,” Archangel keyed in. “Everyone agreed I should take point. Besides, Samson will kill my ass if you come back with so much as a scratch. I know, ‘cause he told me so.”

“I’ll endeavor to appease Samson’s delicate sensibilities,” I replied dryly. While I trusted my club with my life, I wasn’t willing to take the chance the girl was out and about in the house. Or that she could sneak out of her room. Drago had spoken highly of her intelligence and skill. While he’d been able to speak, that is. The fewer of us in the house until she was in my custody, the less likely it was there would be accidents.

“Going on the record I’m objecting strenuously to this. Something happens and El Diablo gets hurt, you motherfuckers better back me up,” Archangel replied crossly.

On any other occasion I’d have taken pity on him and let him lead the mission. Or El Segador. But this was too important. I let my club do many things in the guise of safeguarding me. Only because it pleased them, and I was willing to give a little and look weak if it made them happy. Every single one of them was more than capable, so, as long as the risk was acceptable, I indulged them. They always did what I asked of them to the best of their abilities. It was the least I could do when none of them asked for anything. Typically, I had to force on them their heart’s desires. This, however, was different. Malcolm was a fierce opponent, one I knew almost as well as I knew El Segador. I didn’t want to risk my brothers on someone so unpredictable without knowing exactly where the bastard was and how much he was expecting from me.

“I got your six,” Hardcase spoke up. I could detect the faintest amount of humor in his voice. “For all the good it will do you.” There were chuckles over the radio as throat mics were activated with the sound.

“If you are all finished, El Segador and I would appreciate it if you kept an eye out. Let us know if any surprises are coming our way. Particularly if it’s in the form of a small woman. Aye?”

“Eyes open, mouths closed,” Archangel said. Immediately the chatter stopped and the operation began.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Erotic romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of.


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