Embedded Files
Riptide MC, Book 4
Motorcycle Club Romance, Age Gap, Suspense
Date Published: September 5, 2025
Janet -- Thor is an addiction I can’t seem to overcome. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a man, and everything I can never have. They call him Thor for a reason -- he looks like a modern-day Viking with that shaggy blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and ropes of muscles covered in intricate tattoos. And in bed the man is definitely a god who grants my every secret desire. I walked away from the marriage my parents tried to force me into, but I’m not naive enough to think they’re going to let me go. They have money. Power. Influence. They know how to bend people to their will. They will make sure I marry someone they approve of, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out they will never approve of Thor.
Thor -- Janet is mine. I know she knows it, too. I can see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice, feel it every time we make love. But she refuses to wear my cut and freaks out if I mention anything permanent. I have no idea what the fuck her issue is, but it doesn’t matter. I want her, and I’m going to have her if it takes me the rest of my fucking life to convince her. I want her to come to me willingly. I love her enough not to force her.
Now I just have to stay alive long enough for that to happen, because someone wants me dead.
EXCERPT
Thor
Fuck, that woman frustrated the hell out of me! I knew there had to be a reason she balked at making our relationship public, but she just kept evading the issue. I was a hair’s breadth away from having Shadow snoop into her and see what was up. I knew that would cross a line, but I wasn’t sure it was one I cared about. Did she have an ex she didn’t want me to know about? Or one that still had a legal claim on her? Because I could fix that without breaking a sweat.
She didn’t act like someone running from an ex though. It had a different feel to it, and that’s what scared me. More like she didn’t want people to know about me because they thought she could do better. Admittedly, she probably could but that was just too bad. I had her now, and I had no intention of letting her go.
“Cassie, huh?” I looked at Joker.
He shrugged. “Like I said, we met at the tattoo parlor. She was getting a dragonfly on the back of her shoulder. Said it was in honor of her grandmother who’d had a thing for them.”
“And?”
“And we got to talking. You know. Families. Life. Shit like that. Ended up at the steakhouse for dinner, and I invited her to come watch the races with me today.”
I nodded. “So not a long-standing secret affair you’ve kept from the club all this time?”
He smirked. “You mean like you and Janet? Nah. At least not yet. I haven’t told her about Riptide.”
I sighed. Everyone except Janet seemed to be aware of our status.
A ruckus over at the far side of the room caught my attention. Two burly guys were half leading, half dragging a woman toward the back exit, and she was not going willingly. Squirming and letting out muffled screams through the hand one of them had over her mouth.
“Fuck. Looks like she needs a hand. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Need me for backup?”
The two were nearly at the door, one swearing loudly as the woman stomped on his foot. “Two against one? I think I can handle it. Keep Janet amused for me.”
Joker laughed. “No problem. I’ll tell her about the time you thought the monkey crying in the jungle was a kid and just about got yourself killed going to rescue it.”
“Asshole.” I stood and shouldered my way across the floor to the trio. By the time I reached them, they’d manhandled the girl outside and the door was closing behind them.
“Not so fast, guys.” I pushed the door open and stepped outside, ready for a little exercise. I hadn’t been in a decent fight in weeks.
As the door snapped shut behind me, I saw the girl standing alone on the far side of the alley. In the second that it took for my brain to register that, a fist slammed into the side of my head.
Ambush!
Fuck!
Not my first one though, and I ducked low, twisting to the left as a second blow glanced off my shoulder. I brought my fists up to protect my head, and aimed a roundhouse kick at my assailant, connecting with a satisfyingly meaty thud that drove him backward.
The second guy was quick, and he had a knife. Holding it low, he slashed upward.
I jumped back, and the blade traced a shallow path across my abs.
He bared his teeth and came at me again.
I kicked low, hitting his knee and causing him to stumble. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the girl turn and run, waving to my attackers as she headed out of the alley.
Fucking slut wasn’t waiting around to see the outcome.
The first guy came in from the side, pummeling me with his fists. I ducked to the side, getting my back against the wall so they couldn’t come at me from behind.
Still, two against one, with one of the two brandishing a knife.
Didn’t look good, but I wasn’t going out without a fight. Fuck that. Vikings had coined the term berserker, and they didn’t call me Thor for nothing.
Letting out a furious battle cry, I threw myself at the knife-wielding thug. I got in a few good shots with my fists before a searing pain lanced through me. A quick glance down showed a crimson gash open up on my side.
Ignoring the pain, I grasped his wrist, the one holding the deadly blade, and twisted. The knife arched back, and wussy let out a scream of agony as it bit into his flesh. He dropped to his knees, and I turned to protect myself from his buddy.
The next few minutes stretched out like a slow-motion movie. At this point in my life, hand to hand combat was second nature.
Attack.
Defend.
Kick.
Twist out of reach.
Punch.
Duck under the next blow.
I could do this on autopilot, like a choreographed dance. If not for the wound at my side, I would have made mincemeat out of this clown in minutes.
I was holding my own, but I could feel my strength waning as a crimson trail of blood dripped from the knife wound. Not as shallow as I’d first thought.
My breathing was labored. My hits had less strength behind them. The pain was getting harder to ignore. I wasn’t going to last much longer but damned if I wasn’t going to take this asshole down with me.
Just as the thug came at me yet again, baring his teeth behind a split and swollen lip, the door slammed open, and Joker entered the fray. He might be a medic, dedicated to healing but that didn’t mean he couldn’t fight. Faced with a fresh opponent, and his sidekick lying motionless on the concrete, the coward turned tail and ran.
“What the hell, man?” Joker took a few steps after the asshole to make sure he was gone, then turned back to me. He grabbed my arm, gently lowering me to the ground. “Where’s the girl?”
“Ambush.” I grasped my injured side, wincing. “She bailed somewhere between the first punch and the knife.”
Joker eyed up the assailant lying motionless on the ground. “You had a knife on you?”
I shook my head. “Nah. He brought it. I just turned it back on him.”
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About the Author
Anne Kane lives in the beautiful Okanagan Valley with a bouncy little rescue dog whose breed defies description, a cantankerous Himalayan cat, and too many fish to count. She spent many years trying to fit in and act normal, but finally gave up the effort. She started writing romance in 2008, and her fate was sealed when she won a publishing contract with Red Sage Publishing and just a month later Changeling Press accepted her first submission. Since then she has published more than thirty stories in a variety of sub-genres, all with a happily ever after.
She has two handsome sons and six adorable grandchildren and enjoys spending time with them whenever she can. Her hobbies, when she’s not playing with the characters in her head, include kayaking, hiking, swimming, playing guitar, singing and of course, reading.
Author Links
Website: http://www.annekane.com/
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