Here Comes the Queen...
Katherine
Maw of Mayhem MC Book 4
by AK Nevermore
Genre
Paranormal MC Erotic Romance
Voted in as prez and back at the clubhouse, Grimdarke James has won back the Maw of Mayhem MC, but his problems are far from over, and his migraine isn’t helping. Neither is the arrival of a rival MC, a wolf pack, or the crime lord en route.
And Reaper’s still on the loose.
Grim definitely can’t seem to catch a break, and neither can Kit. Now that she’s been officially introduced to the club as Grim’s ol’ lady, it’s up to her to get a handle on the mollys. Will she be able to keep them in line and prove she’s the rightful queen of Mayhem, or will someone else try to usurp her throne?
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**Don’t miss the rest of the books in the series!**
Grimdarke
Maw of Mayhem MC Book 1
Darker
Maw of Mayhem MC Book 2
Kit-Kat
Maw of Mayhem MC Book 3
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Kit stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. Clay’s bathroom was definitely nicer than the one in Grim’s room. Or it had the potential to be, once all the filth from Nikki’s infestation was expunged. Woman was a pig. Kit frowned at the drifts of body glitter, smears of self-tanner, and spattered toothpaste around the sink. She rubbed at it with the corner of her towel. Maybe that’s what she would do today. A dedicated session of rage cleaning sounded pretty damned good… after she sorted things out with Mr. Asorav and Chanté.
—Ain’t nothin’ to sort— Kat chuffed. —They got our back as queen. It’s the rest of them that are gonna have to fall in line.—
Um, no, just because we’re queen doesn’t mean they get to disrespect Grim.
—How is answering to the queen disrespecting him? They’re not a part of Mayhem.—
Kit toweled off her hair, teeth dimpling her lip. No, but he’s right. This is his MC, and they’re his guests. While they’re here, they have to follow his rules.
—So where does that leave us?—
I dunno yet, and I don’t think he does, either. Kit was pretty sure that her being with him meant she was the alpha female for the club and in charge of the ol’ ladies and the mollys. But since Clay had never officially taken Kit’s mother as a mate, Kit hadn’t actually seen what that looked like. She vaguely remembered a woman with shoulder-length hair that seemed like she was in charge of the kitchen, but Kit had been so young when they moved out of the clubhouse…
She shook her hair out and scrubbed at it with the towel. Do you remember?
—No. I wasn’t awake then.—
Right. And it’d been so long since there had been a shifter queen, no one knew what that looked like, either. Well, Mr. Asorav probably did, but Kit was pretty sure she shouldn’t take everything he said as gospel. Not after the last shifter queen had partially succeeded in turning the current vampire queen into a fox. Aryanna had killed her for it, but she was still rocking whiskers. Their sects weren’t on great terms.
Kit sighed. God, how was she going to do this?
Whatever. Clothes would help. Dress for the job you want, right? Except she didn’t. Not really. Well, to be Grim’s queen, yeah, but the rest of it?
—Girl, you’ll see. Once they accept that we’re it, the rest is gonna be gravy.—
If you say so, but what about until then?
Kat paused like she wasn’t sure either. —Um, until then—
Ahem.
Kit froze at the decidedly masculine interruption in her brain. Her mouth went dry. M-Mr. Asorav?
Yes, my dear. Pardon me for the intrusion, but I couldn’t help but note your angst and feel compelled to relieve you of it. After Ms. Yewling’s reel of your confrontation last night and the resulting transformation of Ms. Hale, there is little doubt that you are the true shifter queen and the sects are responding in accordance. Mr. James’s motorcycle club has accepted you as such and is thoroughly apprised of your status as his, ah, old lady.
Oh. Um, thank you?
My pleasure. I look forward to seeing you at brunch. Do come down as you are able.
Kit stood in the bathroom gripping her towel and listening to the silence in her head, afraid to think. Is he gone? she thought-whispered.
—Son of a bitch had better be.— Kat spat, her proverbial tail thrashing. —Vamp is creepy as fuck.—
Shh! What if he’s listening?
—Then he can listen to this! YOU’RE CREEPY AS FUCK!—
Oh my God, you need to stop.
—No, only thing I need to stop is him from climbing into our head.—
Good luck with that. Kit sighed, going back into the bedroom. It looked like Nikki had just opened all of Kit’s suitcases and shaken them out into one big pile before strewing things around the room. She stepped around the slick of nasty still coating the floor in front of the vanity to the largest pile of clothes, her anxiety ticking up. The bar downstairs sounded packed with brothers, and as soon as she walked into that room, all eyes were gonna be on her.
What the heck did a queen wear?
—Aside from being banned from bedsheets, whatever the hell she wants to— Kat murmured distractedly. —What if I—
Something twanged in Kit’s head. She winced, but the static that’d been buzzing in the back of her brain since she’d changed abruptly cut off. A weird visual of Kat in coveralls messing around in her psyche with a wrench flitted through Kit’s mind’s eye. Great, just what she needed; a mind mechanic.
—Take that, motherfucker.—
You do it?
[SHRUGGING]
—I dunno, but it did something.—
You are not helpful.
—Oh please, like you need help. Bring your A game and all of ‘em will be eating out the palm of your hand, including that man of yours. Remember Timmons, in Acquisitions? Absolute prick on the phone, tongue dragging in person. Once you get all dolled up and walk into the room, ain’t nobody gonna remember who was waiting on whose say-so about what.—
Kit tapped her teeth. As much as she hated skating by on her looks, that would definitely make things easier. My A game, huh? Her A game was what Chanté referred to as boardroom boudoir. A smile tipped up Kit’s lips as she knelt, sorting through the mess of clothes.
AK Nevermore enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases coffee, and gives up sarcasm for Lent every year. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’s a certified chef, restores antiques, and dabbles in beekeeping when she’s not reading voraciously or running down the dream in her beat-up camo Chucks.
Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to become medicated, she writes Science Fiction and Fantasy full time.
She pays the bills editing, wielding a wicked hot pink pen and writing a column on SFF. She also belongs to the Authors Guild, is a chapter treasurer for the RWA, teaches creative writing, and on the rare occasion, sleeps.
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I love a good MC romance. This one sounds really good.
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