New Release + Review + Giveaway + Excerpt: Clipped Wings by Betty Shreffler

 

Title: Clipped Wings

Series: Kings MC Romance #2

Author: Betty Shreffler
Genre: Standalone MC Romance
Release Date: April 27, 2018
Blurb
They call me the Devil’s assassin. It’s true. I have blood on my hands.
As the VP of the Serpents, my life is driven by loyalty, honor,
brotherhood.
Until I see her.
Too young, too innocent. Mine to claim.
What I am, what I do, can never reach her. My dark secrets are scars I
bear alone.
I’m torn between my duties and the woman I’ll die to protect.
Until…they try to take what’s mine.
Julia’s  🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩 hat review:
Clipped Wings is every single thing I love about reading. Everything. I was so lost inside of this book that when I finally came up for air I couldn’t remember what year it was. It’s that good. I thought Jake held my heart, I was wrong. Dom holds my heart in a steel trap! Betty Shreffler gives you a real, gritty, bloody, and crude look into the MC world with Clipped Wings. So much stuff going on around Dom and Erika I honestly had no clue who to trust. Things got bloody. Things got sexy. Things got scary. Things got happy. You will feel so many emotions with this story.

The writing was exciting and heart-stoppingly good. The characters were exceptional. I always feel like I can’t love another book more from Betty Shreffler and then the next one comes out. It’s never ending love. I have a huge love affair with her books and I wouldn’t have it any other way! Clipped Wings is an incredible story that will have you wishing for the next one!

 

 

Purchase Links
99c for a limited time
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Playlist
Excerpt
THE CLUBHOUSE IS buzzing with life tonight. Every member and
their ol’ lady came out for the cage fight. No other MC members are allowed on
a night like this. It’s in-house and exclusive. Keeps the outcome private and
the bruised egos of the losers contained. I plan on bruising more than their
egos. I want them carried out on a fucking stretcher.
These men aren’t my brothers. They don’t know loyalty,
honor, or respect the patch and the brotherhood it stands for. They’re weak
men. Men who get off on torturing and raping a woman who couldn’t defend
herself against them. I don’t see them as equals. I’ll never see them as
equals.
Through the church room is another set of double doors. This
is where we have our fight cage and private bar. Wooden benches line two walls,
the cage taking up the other two. Between the benches and the fight cage are
high top and low top tables with bar stools and chairs. Every seat is filled
and the liquor is pouring heavily. A few bucks make their rounds on who’s going
to win the fight. It’s fun play for my brothers, but for me, tonight is about
so much more.
Lighting dim, it makes the blood stains on the cage mat
harder to see, but it’s there as a lingering memory of previous fights. Fights
I’ve been a part of. Blood I’ve contributed myself. You don’t last in the
Serpents as long as I have without shedding some.
Across the cage, between the bars, I can see Drake and Levi
getting themselves worked up for the fight. A slap to the face, some words for
courage, a shot glass thrown back. Next to me are Mercy, John, Tex and RJ, some
of my closest brothers. Mercy slaps my bare back and hands me a shot.
“Fuck ‘em up.”
With the shot thrown back, I bob my head. Shirt in my hands,
I pull it over my head and toss it on a chair. Reaching into my pocket, I
retrieve the brass knuckles I brought. That’s an advantage with the cage
fights—there are no rules.
Christian opens the cage door and dips his head, indicating
Drake and Levi need to enter. Shirts off and in their jeans, they go into the
cage, bouncing on the tips of their feet. They’re wired and ready, probably
high on coke too. Another advantage for me. With intent steps, I flex my
muscles and give Christian a hard stare as I enter the cage.
The door locks behind us and I measure my opponents. Levi is
tall and gangly, has speed, but will easily be put off balance. Drake has
muscles, a solid core, slightly shorter than I am, but he always steps before
he punches. It’s been engrained in me to study the way every man I know fights,
especially the ones closest to you.
Bloodshot eyes and their hyper energy are telltale signs
they’re high. The corner of my mouth raises when the circling starts. They’ll
come at me together at first, in hopes to overpower me, wear me down. Then once
I’m tired, they’ll split up and go for individual attacks to give themselves
breaks and ensure I remain exhausted. They’re dumb fucks if they think the
fight will last that long.
They both charge and I slam into Levi. Hand to his throat, I
ram him into the cage bars, knocking the wind out of him. Grip tight on his
throat, I bring the brass knuckles down on his face. Blood spurts from his
nose, then again from his busted lips.
“Fuuuck!” the word roars from my chest.
The cold steal slices across the lower left side of my back.
Enraged, I turn on Drake and see him holding the bloody switchblade.
If blood is what they want, blood is what I’ll give them.
Fast hand to his wrist, I wrap my elbow around his arm and
kick his leg out from under him. The blade drops and I flip him over slamming
him to the ground. No hesitation, I snatch the blade and whip it across his
cheek. Blood pours from the thin, neat cut. Flicking the blade into my other
hand, I nail it into his thigh.
With the painkiller effects of the coke running through his
system, he bellows from the wound, but still has a lot of fight. Seeing Levi
come at me with a set of spiked knuckles, I get one brass-knuckled punch to
Drake’s face before I duck and roll, dodging the swing of Levi’s arm.
Quick on my feet, I feel the warmth of my own blood running
down my skin on the inside of my jeans. That’s gonna need stitches. I need to
move fast before I lose too much blood. Drake pulls the blade from his thigh
and limps to his feet, holding the bars of the cage.
Circling one another, the crowd is alive with energy, screaming
and hollering inaudible words at us. They’re hungry for more.
Waving my fingers, I encourage their attack. Levi’s got good
legs, so he comes at me first. With an uppercut of the brass knuckles, he lands
on his back. One hard boot to his face and he’s lights out.
Drake circles me, blade in hand. With a fast swing, he
grazes my arm, slicing it enough to make me bleed, but not enough to make me
give a fuck. The fresh scent of copper fills my nostrils. Crimson red covers
Drake’s face and stains his jeans. Watching his feet, he lunges again, and I
grab his hand, lock onto it, turn inside his arm and elbow his face, breaking
his nose. Pulling his hand backward, the blade drops. With one swift turn, I
put brass to bone, knocking him on his ass.
I only stop when I see his eyelids. He’s out cold, and I
heave a breath, controlling my fury before I murder him here in front of
everyone. Rising to my feet, I pull the brass knuckles from my bloodied hand.
The cage door opens for me, and I step out to hoots, hollers, pats on the back,
and shots shoved into my hands. I down two for the pain.
All the faces are an adrenaline pumping blur until I see
her—my Sparrow. Running to me, I enfold her in my arms, kissing her hard and
fierce.
Also Available

 

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
 
Free in Kindle Unlimited

 

Author Bio
Betty Shreffler is a
bestselling author of paranormal romantic suspense and contemporary
romance. She writes sexy and suspenseful stories with hot alphas and
kickass heroines with twists you don’t expect. She also writes beautiful and
sexy romances with tough women and their journeys at finding love. Betty is a
mix of country, nerdy, sassy, sweet and a whole lot of sense of humor. She’s a
fan of photography, reading, watching movies, hiking, traveling, drinking wine,
and all things romantic. She lives with her amazing hubs and five fur babies.
If she’s not writing or doing book events, then you can find her behind the
lens of a camera, in the woods, or sipping wine behind a deliciously steamy
book.
Author Links

 

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