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Blackwater Deceiver: Maxine and Blu | Audiobook Sneak Peek

Audiobooks lovers! I have a surprise for you! So, with the help of The Audio Flow the producers of my next audiobook, I am back to creating audiobooks! The first audiobook, Blackwater Savior has been a club exclusive, but is about to be available for the public! Blackwater Savior is Spooky and Mia’s story and is narrated by the AMAZING Michael Pauley. The next audiobook to be available is:

Blackwater Deceiver: Maxine and Blu

By Inger Iversen

Produced by: The Audio Flow

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Listen here for a special sneak peek of Patrick Zeller’s amazing audition!

All Maxine needs is a name.

Just one piece of information could help Maxine mend a past mistake and let go of her broken past. That name she needs? Her father's murderer. Not because she harbors any tender feelings toward the bastard who beat her mother into a coma. She's desperate to know his last words.

She's steadily clawing down obstacles one lie, one trap at a time … until she encounters a brick wall without a single chink in it. Blu, the enforcer guarding the Blackwater Renegades MC's front door. A tattooed, mohawked mountain of muscle whose ice-blue gaze sets her belly on fire.

Blu's past shadows his future.

After fighting for his freedom in an underground fighting pit, Blu traded wrapped knuckles for a Blackwater Renegades cut. Now he puts his bruised fists to good use against rival gangs.

When he's tasked with seducing Maxine, the enigmatic newcomer, to uncover her motives, Blu discovers there's more to this dagger-glaring, snark-spewing beauty than meets the eye. They share a deep well of unresolved pain that could make him drop his guard … and question his loyalties to the only people he's ever known as family.

Want to read an excerpt of the book?

Blackwater Hostage | Dex & Nina | Teaser Tuesday

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lightly edited and subject to change.

Dex smiled wider as she reared back, her face deepening in color with embarrassment. He’d needed this, someone to banter with, because his mood had shifted from dark to outright black. The men he’d been chasing were nowhere in sight by the time he got the call from his President of the Blackwater Renegades asking about the status of his job. The curses and threats Ace had offered his enforcer didn’t bode well for him if he didn’t help bring in the two men wanted for assault and robbery. Instead, his job had changed to keeping an eye on the blubbering, sick woman in front of him. At least his words had put color back in her face.

Her fists tightened on the table. “You—”

It was then that Jo sauntered over with a sly smile on her face and placed Hollywood’s usual down in front of him.

“Grandma’s special with extra gravy for you, Dexter.” She winked at him as she walked away, no doubt saying his legal name to give her friend something to rib him on. He glanced over to the woman who was no longer red with embarrassment but fighting a smile. Ah hell, his name was the bane of his existence and the source of provocation.

Dex, as most people called him, lifted his lip in a snarl he hoped would scare the smile right off of her face. “Don’t even start it.” He lifted the fork and shoveled a huge spoonful of biscuits and gravy into his mouth. With a narrowed gaze, he added, “What’s your name?”

She opened her mouth to speak; instead, he lifted a hand, in an attempt to halt her words.

Her eyes widened and she crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s how you do an introduction? Typical rude ass biker.”

Gasping in feigned horror, he placed a hand over his heart. “Language, little lady.”

Again, her face reddened, but not in embarrassment. A bright smile lit her face as she burst into soft laughter. “Nina, Nina James, not little lady,” she corrected, adding another sunburst of a smile.

And … his day just got brighter. He’d entered the diner with a blade in his back sheath and a gun at his side, hoping to find the two men who’d robbed Moe’s gun and ammo store. Unfortunately, he'd lost them in the woods not even a mile from here, and gotten his ass chewed out by his pres, only to end up a babysitter to a sick chick. Or at least that’s what he thought of her until he sat down in front of her and indeed laid eyes on her. She was sick; the pallor of her skin, while had slightly returned to a creamy dark brown, still had traces of sickness, and her brow was slickened with sweat even as forced air cooled the entire diner. He wanted to ask her what was wrong with her, but he knew better. Not only did he want to keep her mind off of the fact he was here while she was close to perhaps her worse, but he also didn’t want to change the atmosphere between them. He didn’t want to be her keeper any more than he wanted her to feel as if that were the case.

She sat across from him her long, delicate fingers no longer balled in fists, but toying with the condensation as it slid down her glass to pool into the table. His objective was to sit with a woman while she was on her lunch break until Spooky got to her with her insulin, so why the hell wasn’t she eating? He did a glance over her body and determined that she was not overfed, but well fed. Her toned body revealed that of a woman who worked out, but at the same time, he’d say the youthful chubbiness in her cheeks and the slight double chin there had possibly been caused by recent stress or even her sickness. He liked the weight on her. Earlier, he’d gotten a good glimpse of her body and liked what he’d seen. The thicknesses of her thighs sent thoughts of lust racing through his head, and her plump ass had his fingers aching to spread them apart as he thrust deep into her. He could definitely imagine her cradling his waist as he thrust deep into her welcoming body, or wrapped tight around his head as she came on his tongue her sweet, fragrant scent surrounding him. Shit, his cock hardened in his jeans at the thought. However, his lust sobered as he watched her eyeing his food with hunger.

He lowered the spoon from his lips, throwing himself back into the present. “Why aren’t you eating? I thought they said you were on a lunch break?” He wanted to comment of the decadent glint in her eyes as her gaze lingered on his lips, but then Dex noticed as the smile fell from her luscious lips and her hands once again clenched into fists. Anger radiated from her, but nestled deep beneath her anger existed insecurity. He could see it in the way she broke eye contact with him. Did her sickness relate to food? And if so, what the hell kind of—

“I have diabetes,” she blurted, watchful eyes meeting his as she visibly swallowed hard. And then, he took her in again, the dots suddenly falling into place. He’d known people in his time to suffer from diabetes, and he’d also understood that if the person took care of themselves, they’d live a very long and healthy life. The stubborn glint in her eyes dared him to admonish her for forgetting her insulin, but even if he hadn't sensed the insecurity in her, he wouldn’t have offered reproach at something any human was capable of doing.

He took a long drink of water before asking, “Type one or two?”

She eyed him uneasily. “One.”

He nodded. “Okay then.” He didn’t know too much about diabetes, but he did know that shit could be dangerous if not deadly left untreated. He pulled his cell from his pocket and sent a text to Spooky. He didn’t care what the man was doing, he needed to get here ASAP. The longer he and Nina waited, the shittier she would feel, and that was just something he couldn’t allow.

“What are you doing?” As she leaned over, he tilted the phone so she could read the text.

You’re wasting my woman’s lunch break. Get your ass over here with her insulin so she can eat, fucker.

A shocked gasp left her lips, but before she was able to utter a word he’d pressed send. No, she wasn’t his woman—he didn’t even know her—but that was how shit started. You met an interesting, sexy ass woman like Nina and you went after her with the veracity of wolf a chasing its prey.

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Blackwater Hostage | Dex & Nina

Lightly edited and subject to change

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Nina could have kicked her own ass all the way into next year, she thought as she entered Ollies' diner only to remember her purse, including her medicine, was still back at the clinic. In Blackwater, the summers, ordinarily warm and humid—had at some point taken a turn into an inferno.  After a ten-minute walk in that draining heat vortex, the thought of going back made her feel dizzy and light-headed, or was it that her diabetes was talking to her?

As she opened the front door, a stale breeze of chilled air billowed through her hair, refreshing her just a little. The need to take her blood sugar before she ate, crossed her mind once again. Though, she didn't let the concern upset her. Unconcerned, as this had happened plenty of times before, Nina decided; first, she’d rest her legs, enjoy the cold air, order her food, and then walk it back to work and test there. Nina scanned the well-lit room taking in the pleasant scent of fattening fried food as it sizzled on the griddle, and the quiet laughter of diners as they conversed over their lunches. With a friendly smile on her face, she found an empty booth and seated herself. After capturing her attention, Jo, the single day-shift server affably winked at her then held up a finger letting her know it’d be a second before she made it over to take her order.

         Nina nodded, then slid into the boot with a comforted sigh. Pulling her cell and the dreaded ring box from her pocket, she placed the offending box on the table and shot a quick text to Hope with a quick explanation Nina set the phone down next to the velvet box. The dreaded velvet ring box. What had once been a symbol of a commitment had quickly morphed into a representation of failure.

         Two years ago, or maybe it’d been a lifetime ago, Nina made the decision to leave her husband. No, he hadn't cheated, beaten or treated her wrong. While his idea of one's wife seemed comparable to her idea of a one's mother, it hadn't really been a surprise when he’d wanted her to drop out of college to start a family. It had been the way of his father and his father’s father before him.

A tremor wracked her hand as she reached out for the box. She flipped it open to reveal a small folded piece of paper atop her wedding set. Leaning back on the plush cushion in the booth, a moment of shock took over her as she recalled the price tag attached to the ring. When they'd shopped for a wedding set, she had passed the ring over several times thinking it out of Javi’s budget. Just like her mother and friends, Nina hadn't believed the leather wearing, cursing like a sailor Javi hadn't come from money—they’d all been wrong.

 “Hey Nina,” Jo placed the menu down on the table. “Olly added a few new items for you—” her shocked gasp had Nina glancing up sharply. Jo’s eyes were riveted on the wedding set. “Jesus, Nina. Who proposed?” Nina’s Afro-Latin heritage may have offered her a darker skin complexion, but at this moment, Nina was sure as hell that her cheeks became red as they flushed from embarrassment. Her eyes darted around the diner hoping no one she was acquainted with was in the diner. A soft hand landed over hers as Jo sat down across from her. “Hell, honey. Did you see a ghost or is it this ring that’s got you so upset?” Jo’s dark eyes met hers and held strong and steady. “Wait,” concern lit her gaze. “You got that upper lip sweat going on, and your hands are a bit shaky.” Before Nina could remind Jo that it was indeed summer and in the high nineties out, Jo stood. “Test your blood and let me know what you need to eat.” The look of contrition on Nina’s face must have said it all. “Oh, no.” Jo’s shoulders dropped. “You left it back at the clinic?”

         Nina opened her mouth to speak, but it was then the chimes over the front doors pealed announcing the presence of a patron entering the diner. Heavy black boots hit the laminate floor, and with each of his steps, a loud thundering echoed throughout the room demanding that attention be paid. Dark washed jeans pulled tight over massive legs and firm thighs, a tight black t-shirt melded over taut muscles capped by a leather cut that held the words, Blackwater Renegades. Her eyes moved up his body taking in the strength behind the brutally cut muscle until she got to his face. She then blinked, several times.

         "Hmm...That's not at all what I expected." Her words were a mumbled whisper as she sat mesmerized by the giant. Golden blonde hair, baby blue eyes and that Hollywood heartthrob square chin all complemented by those same Hollywood good looks. She took in his body again, hard lines, scars on his arms and a biker cut. His angelic face was at odds with that ruthlessness of his hardened body and disdainful sneer. The man took in the room with each step, eyeing every customer as if committing each face to memory until his cold gaze met her. His brow dipped, and a quizzical, yet relaxed look colored his face. Nina took in a deep shuddering breath slightly calming her nerves as his gaze moved past her and onto the next diner as if she’d never even existed.

         Swallowing hard she asked, “Jo, who is that?” She attempted and failed to keep the breathiness from her voice. Sheer panic laced her spine. She’d never seen this man at the clinic with the Renegades and wasn’t under any delusion that because a few of the men in the MC were respectable, that all of them were law-abiding citizens that she could trust. However, from the look in Jo’s face as she answered, this guy was friendly.

         “Oh, Hollywood.” She waved a dismissive hand. Perhaps Nina’s uncertainty had come across in her tone. “He’s nothing to worry about. His job is to make sure no one is acting up.” Jo’s face wrinkled in thought.

         “Well, if he’s here then maybe something is up.” After another moment of thought, she shrugged. “Or maybe he’s just hungry. Now, back to you.” At that moment, Nina’s phone beeped with a text message from Hope. With a smile, she relayed the message.

         “Don’t worry, Spooky is just about done getting stitched up. Hope will send him this way with my kit.” The relief on Jo’s face mirrored that in Nina’s chest because she was starting to feel the effects of missing her medicine.

         “Good, honey. Let me bring you an ice-cold glass of water.” She hurried off behind the counter and seconds later, an ice-cold glass of water and unsweetened tea sat before her.

         Jo smiled and added, “Call me over the second he gets here, okay?” Nina nodded. As soon as Jo walked away, Nina surreptitiously searched out the biker who’d entered moments earlier. She was painfully single and with good reason, but it didn’t hurt to look. Her eyes roved over the small diner searching for the dynamic presence of the large man and was dismayed when she didn’t see him. Where the hell had he gone? At this point, she no longer tried to hide her search for him but realized that he’d probably left the diner while she checked her phone. An inexplicable feeling of loss swept over her as she sank back into her booth. That man was not her type. There was no room in her life for a leather wearing caveman, no matter how perilously sexy he seemed. That was what got her in trouble a few years ago, and at that thought, her eyes went back to the ring set on the table. With quaking hands, Nina pulled the white slip from the box and unfolded

the letter.

 

 

 

Nina,

I hope this letter finds you well. Your mother told me you were back in school doing what you once loved. I understand the cost of schooling is high, please, sell these and follow whatever path leads you to happiness.

 

 

Nina let the letter fall from her fingers. The white sheet billowed to the table to rest beside the wedding set that had set her ex-husband back nearly eight grand. What was he playing at? No, that wasn't the right question because Javi didn’t play games, not even during their divorce. It had been agreed that they would leave with what they’d brought to the table and Nina had only brought naïve love, yet, Javi had asked her if she wanted anything else. She hadn't. She had just wanted her freedom.

A shadow cast over her table causing Nina to look up and up into the crystalline blue eyes of the biker who’d entered earlier. His sharp gaze and tilted lips gave her the impression he was anywhere but where he wanted to be, and his next words proved her right. Nina snatched the letter up and shoved it into her pocket.

“Apparently, I am here to babysit you. Spooky got held up, it’ll only be a bit until he gets here.” His apathetic tone grated her nerves, and without waiting for an invitation, he squeezed his big body into the booth nearly knocking over her water and sweet tea. Two large tanned hands shot out, righting the cups before they spilled. And then, the big brute dared to lift her water to his sensual lips and drink until the water was half gone.

         "How damned dare he?" She thought.

         She needed her water, she was damned thirsty. Opening her mouth to say just that, her eyes widened as he cut her off.

         His eyes took her in. “Jesus, you look like hell. What medicine is he bringing over for you?”

         Nina swallowed, not once, but several times, holding back the retort she’d planned to throw at him. Instead, she said, “Of course I look like shit. I just walked in this unnatural inferno for ten minutes, missed my meds so I’m feeling shaky dizzy and a bit irritable, and I’ve just been assaulted with memories of a past I’d welled hoped to forget. Who wouldn’t look like hell in this situation? Oh, well I know who.” She gestured to the man before her. “The Norse God of Sexiness and ego that’s who!” The moment the words were out of her mouth the sexiest grin she’d ever seen laced his lips. Slouching back into the booth and prayed for a way to disappear. Of course, when she opened her mouth, she’d take a second to place her foot directly between both lips.

         Hollywood, as Jo called him leaned closer a roguish shimmer in his eyes as he said, “Sexiness, eh? Would you by chance care for a demonstration?”

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