Victory at Prescott High (The Havoc Boys #5) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,218

… For now, let’s leave them be to enjoy the fruits of their labors. If you’re craving more, more, more then I highly suggest starting “I Was Born Ruined”, the first book in another series of mine, one that’s similar to Havoc in so many ways. Only, our leading lady Gidget isn’t quite as hopeful as Bernadette but just as badass. And her men? Well, they’re even bigger assholes. This is the next series I’ll be finishing up!

If you’d like to see more high school romance and drama from me, check out “Flithy Rich Boys” (the first in a completed series), “Devils’ Day Party” (a complete stand-alone novel), or “The Secret Girl” (the first in another completed series). For fantasy, give “Allison’s Adventures in Underland” (also complete) a try.

For now, I want to thank you so much for reading this series. It was extremely personal and born out of some painful events in my own life. Just knowing that you were here to follow on the journey with me makes every drop of blood, sweat, and tears that went into this series worth it.

See you in the next world, dearest reader!

Love, Caitlin aka C.M. Stunich

Death by Daybreak Motorcycle Club, Book #1

I'm the princess to a dirty throne of motorcycles and madness, daughter of the president of the Death by Daybreak Motorcycle Club. My father's four closest officers; men dressed in blood and death and sin; they're my honor guard, cloaked in leather vests and tattoos. Only, there's nothing honorable about them at all.

Flip the page for an excerpt of chapter one.

Chapter One

My first memory is of feeling protected, safe. Even now, the scent of leather and motor oil calms my nerves, the roar of an engine a siren song that I can't resist. For years, I lived under the blanket of a lie, knowing that there were people out there who would protect me, no matter what, who had my back. It made the world seem less scary, more manageable.

Then one day—I can't remember when—I woke up and realized it.

My protectors, my family, they were the monsters.

And their protection came with a hefty price.

My legs are cloaked in black, smooth lines of leather that hang over the edge of the crumbling brick wall. In one hand, I have a cigarette. In the other, a small paper bag wrapped around a bottle. Inside, there's about half a liter of Jameson with lipstick smudges around the rim.

“Jump, Gidge,” my best friend, Reba, says from below. She's dressed like a nun, in a long navy skirt that tangles in the brambles, and a white cardigan slung over slim shoulders. It's why we get along, me and Reba. I'm sin and she's salvation, that's why we work. I don't think I could handle two of me in the same town let alone the same school or party or sleepover. “I know you're afraid of heights—” she starts, but I'm already taking another swig of the whiskey and hopping down to land in a crouch beside her.

I might be wary of heights, but I'm not sure that I'm afraid.

I'm not sure that I'm afraid of anything, not anymore.

That's what growing up around monsters will do to ya.

“There must be easier ways to get to the bonfire,” she says, unhooking a stray thorny blackberry arm from the shoulder of her sweater. “Like, say, in a car.”

I take a drag on my cigarette and give her a look.

“Nobody in their right mind would risk giving me a ride,” I say, pushing past her and following a narrow trail through the brush. “And even if we could find somebody crazy enough to pick us up, there's always the chance Cat or somebody else in the club might see us on the road. Can't risk it.”

Reba sighs and pushes some of her wavy red hair over one shoulder. Yet another reason we're friends—her father's the pastor of a local church. Mine's the president of an outlaw motorcycle club. She's been trained to hate him from birth; I've hated him since I was fifteen. We might be complete opposites, but we have that in common.

Everybody else in this town … they're too scared of my dad to hate him. Reba thinks she's got God on her side. I'm not sure that I believe in God, but I sure as shit believe in the devil. I've seen him, him and his demons.

And they all ride in Cat's motorcycle club: Death by Daybreak MC.

They wear leather vests and smoke cigarettes, fuck groupies