Three Chicks and Their Books: Review: Reaper's Stand by Joanna Wylde

As Reapers Motorcycle Club president, Reese “Picnic” Hayes has given his entire life to the club. After losing his wife, he knew he’d never love another woman. And with two daughters to raise and a club to manage, that was just fine with him. These days, Reese keeps his relationships free and easy—he definitely doesn’t want to waste his time on a glorified cleaning lady like London Armstrong.

Too bad he’s completely obsessed with her.

Besides running her own business, London’s got her junkie cousin’s daughter to look after—a more reckless than average eighteen-year-old. Sure she’s attracted to the Reapers’ president, but she’s not stupid. Reese Hayes is a criminal and a thug. But when her young cousin gets caught up with a ruthless drug cartel, Reese might be the only man who can help her. Now London has to make the hardest decision of her life—how far will she go to save her family?

4.5 Vrooming stars
Review by Natasha Gentile

My name is Natasha and I’m a biker girl. Okay maybe not exactly a biker girl but I do love my biker boys. And I do Love me some Reaper boys..Actually come to think of it if I called them boys, they wouldn't exactly be happy. I mean with names like, Horse, Puck, Painter, Hunter, Bolt, Ruger, oh and don’t forget the president of all these "boys" -Picnic.

“Pic” was short for “Picnic, and that was Reese’s nickname. I had no idea why they called him that and I sure as heck hadn’t asked. He was the least picnicky person I’d ever met in my life."

I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that he likes to munch on things lying on a blanket.. Oh you dirty dirty girls..but you're so right- that’s exactly what I was also thinking!

You see Pic had an old lady, if you're not familiar with biker terms, that means wife, and I’m really not sure I’d like to be called an old lady, but apparently bitches be fighting for that honor. Heather, was his wife who he loved and when she passed he swore he would never get one again. He would be content with raising his two girls oh and banging the club whores. Did you really think he would be celibate? He is a biker. That word is not in any
dictionary they read..EVER. So he’s happy. his kids are grown, he lives by himself, he has his club, he has his whores, his life is complete…Oh you silly silly boy, you may be all scary looking and kill people but love, it cuts you off at the knees. Enter London Armstrong.

London Armstrong is the cleaning crew leader and owner. She’s busy raising her cousin's daughter Jessica, because well she was a crack whore who had other things to do rather
than raise her own child. London doesn’t have time to do anything, let alone ride with the Pres..But that just isn’t the plan for her. Better get your leather jacket and some chaps, because you're going for a ride London!

"I could still remember the first time I saw him, because he was beautiful and if I weren’t a mature, sensible woman I’d have said I had a crush on him. I definitely felt a strong physical pull-at least, when I wasn't terrified of him. That wasn't okay. I had a boyfriend. Nate. He was nice and he liked me and I liked him and he made me feel safe. I had a good life. I took care of Jessica and I ran my business. I took care of her friends sometimes, too, and
inconvenient crushes on bikers-ones I worked for, no less-weren’t on the table."

So when she shows up at his armory and needs his help, he is more than willing to help. For a price that is.

“Convince me to help you,” he said softly, his voice growing smooth, almost silky.

‘How?” I whispered.

He chuckled.

“How do you think?”

I closed my eyes, trying to think. Sex. He was talking about sex. Okay. It wasn’t like I didn’t know about sex…Was I willing to sleep with a man to find Jessica? Give up on my relationship with Nate? My gut twisted, because I’d already given up so much for her.

“it’s a bad idea to mix work and personal business,” I told him. “I’ve got two crews working for you right now. I think getting involved would be a big mistake. Not only that, I’m seeing someone already.”

Reese gave a low chuckle.

‘I don’t want to get involved and I don't give a shit about your boyfriend. But I wouldn't mind fucking your tits-that’s motivate me to help. Your Call.”

I gasped.

Shocking to some, others would have asked for more. I think it’s a fair trade…London one ups him and offers her cleaning services. It seems that club whores don’t like to clean. Really, are you serious? I would of never thought that, club whores seems so nice and are also willing to help you..orgasm maybe, but cleaning and dusting. Nope they aren’t going to do it, and frankly, lets face it after they have sex all night, or morning or afternoon long, who can stand on their leg? So he agrees..Let's shake on it..Wrong..This is Picnic he uses his hand for other things..Girls get your minds out of the gutter, I meant killing and didn’t mean sexually. Pfffff okay I did mean sexually, whatever, roll your eyes, shake your head, you were thinking it.

“Just a taste,” he whispered. I nodded. I couldn’t help myself.

His mouth brushed mine as one of his hands slid into my hair, loosening the bandanna. His tongue traced the cracks of my lips, wordlessly asking to come inside.

Sighing, I let him.

The kiss was surprisingly gentle in it’s intensity. His tongue reached deep, exploring mine in a game of hunt and chase that sent tendrils of desire all the way down to my toes and back up again. Without thinking, I pressed my breasts against his chest, startled and thrilled by just how good he felt around me. His hips moved in a slow, steady grind as he slipped a knee between mine. I felt a hand grip my rear and then he boosted me effortlessly, pinning me against the wall as my legs wrapped around him oh so naturally.

And so begins the love affair. It is so not all roses and rainbows, this is an MC book. It’s breakups, it’s tears, it’s houses blowing up, it’s club whores, it’s deceptions, it’s lying, it kidnapping, it’s beating, it's shootings and it’s killing. In other words…FANFREAKINGTASTIC..

Can Picnic and London actually ride off into the sunset without any of this? Who knows, but I’ll ride anytime.

“Okay, let’s get some shit straight and then you can head out.” Great, here it came. The Talk. Fortunately I was ahead of him for once.

“Don’t worry, Reese. I know this was just a one-off for you, and that you don’t want a relationship. That’s what I needed, too, so in a way it’s perfect. No harm, no foul. We can just pretend this never happened.”

A scowl covered his face. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Us. Or rather, the fact that there isn’t an ‘us.’ I get it—you like to sleep around. I had a good time, but I’m not expecting a ring or anything.”

His eyes widened, and I smirked.

“Although I’ll be around if you want another booty call,” I added slyly.

Yay me! I’m a sophisticated woman who knows the difference between love and sex.

Reese’s scowl grew deeper, and then suddenly he moved and I was under him, pinned down against the bed. He pulled my hands up, holding them prisoner above my head.

“Are you fucked in the head?” he demanded harshly. “You get laid for the first time in years, it’s phenomenal—”

“Well, aren’t you the modest one?”

“It’s phenomenal,” he repeated, emphasizing the word heavily. “And now you’re just going to ignore me? I am not fuckin’ down with that.”

Joanna is a freelance writer living in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. She started writing fiction in 2002, then took a long hiatus to explore other writing opportunities. She returned to fiction in January 2013 with ‘Reaper’s Property’, the first book in the Reapers Motorcycle Club series.