Sunday, April 12, 2026

 



(Kiss of Death MC 13)


MC Romance

Date Published: April 17, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press



Mia looks like heartbreak. When her toxic ex follows, he doesn’t know what he’s up against.

Mia: I caught my boyfriend cheating with my best friend. So I did what any emotionally stable woman would do. I rented a secluded cabin in the Smoky Mountains and swore off men forever. Then the motorcycles arrived, along with Oktober. He’s six feet of tattooed temptation with a voice like sin and a stare that says he’s already picturing me against the nearest solid surface. He doesn’t offer sympathy. He offers control. And after being lied to, gaslit, and humiliated, control sounds… therapeutic. What starts as a revenge-fueled vacation fling turns into possessive heat, obsessive chemistry, and the kind of dark romance that makes bad decisions feel like personal growth. But when my toxic ex tracks me down, I learn two things. Eric still thinks I belong to him. He has no idea who he’s competing with.

Oktober: I came to the mountains for downtime with my MC brothers. Beer. Bikes. No drama. Then I found Mia next door looking like heartbreak wrapped in stubborn pride. I don’t chase women. I don’t beg. And I definitely don’t do feelings. I claim. She says she just wants a distraction. I give her protection, obsession, and enough heat to make her forget her ex’s name. When the idiot shows up trying to intimidate her, I almost feel bad for him. Almost. Kiss of Death MC doesn’t tolerate disrespect.

“Touch her and die” isn’t a cute slogan. It’s community policy.

 

Excerpt
Copyright ©2026 Marteeka Karland

Mia

I walked up the three flights of stairs to our apartment, conference badge still hanging from my neck, my rolling suitcase bumping rhythmically against each step. The academic panel had ended early. Budget cuts meant fewer speakers, fewer questions, fewer reasons to stay. I hadn’t texted Eric. The thought of surprising him, of seeing his face light up when I walked through the door two days ahead of schedule, made my lips curve into a smile. We might even head early to the little cabin retreat I’d been planning for after the weekend. Maybe I’d call ahead and see if I could get it starting tonight or tomorrow. I shifted the takeout bag to my other hand and dug for my keys, the scent of his favorite pad thai spiraling up from the paper sack.

The hallway stretched before me, same beige carpet I’d walked nearly every day for the past six months since I’d moved in with Eric. Our door waited at the end, looking exactly as it always did. I took comfort in the mundane. I loved surprises but preferred my quiet, steady life as drama free as I could keep it.

I opened the door and stepped inside the spacious apartment Eric owned in downtown Nashville. I heard them before I saw them. A muffled laugh, a thump against a wall in the bedroom. For a moment as I approached the closed door, I thought maybe Eric was watching something on his laptop. He did that sometimes, sprawled across our bed as he watched or even worked from bed. When he did, he sometimes hit the wall as he shifted.

The bedroom door swung open, and time moved to slow motion around me. Eric’s bare back faced me, the knobs of his spine visible as he hunched over her. My best friend, Jade’s, legs were wrapped around his waist, her head thrown back against my pillow on my side of the bed. Her dark hair spread across the soft linens I’d washed before leaving for the conference the day before.

My keys dangled from suddenly numb fingers. Thank God I’d set the takeout bag on the counter as I’d passed by the kitchen or I’d have dropped it. Just like I did the keys two seconds later.

They froze. Their heads turned in unison, like puppets controlled by the same string.

“Mia!” Eric’s voice cracked as he shoved up from Jade and the bed, his junk on full display. Without a condom. Just ducky. “Jesus -- you’re… You weren’t supposed to --”

Jade yanked the sheet up to her chin, her eyes wide and glassy. “Oh God, Mia, I can explain --”

Could she? Could she explain why my best friend since sophomore year of college was naked in my bed with my boyfriend of three years? Could she explain why they were both looking at me with expressions more annoyed than ashamed, as though I’d interrupted something that was rightfully theirs?

I didn’t want to hear it.

I stood there, my suitcase forgotten in the hallway, watching Eric scramble to pull on his jeans. His mouth was moving, explanations tumbling out. I heard something about loneliness and mistakes and too much wine. His words hit a barrier around me, sounds without meaning. I noticed things instead. Like the wineglass on my nightstand with Jade’s lipstick on the rim. The way she clutched my sheet to her chest like she had any right to modesty in this moment. The condom wrappers on the floor.

“Mia, please say something,” Eric pleaded, his hand reaching for my arm.

I stepped back. My body felt disconnected, operating on primitive autopilot while my mind floated, watching this scene unfold to someone else, trying to detach myself from the stark reality of what I’d just witnessed.

“How long?” My voice sounded weak and thready. Like I had to force the words out. I suppose I did because I really had no desire to know how long I’d played the fool and looked like an idiot in front of all our friends.

They exchanged a look. That look told me everything I needed to know.

I turned away, walking to the closet where we kept our luggage. Eric followed, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood.

“Mia, it’s not what you think. It just happened. We were both missing you --”

I pulled my large duffel bag from the top shelf, the one I’d planned to use for our cabin trip next week. The trip I’d booked six months ago because Eric had complained we never went anywhere, just the two of us.

“Mia, please --” Jade appeared in the doorway, my robe wrapped around her body. My robe. On her body. “We never meant to hurt you. It was a mistake.”

I moved around our apartment like a ghost. The only thing I really needed was my laptop and that was still packed. The duffel had already been packed with my favorite, most comfortable clothes from jeans and T-shirts to a couple of nice sundresses for the early spring weather. Plenty of underwear and my toiletries. Beyond that, I didn’t need anything else.

“What are you doing?” Eric’s voice rose, panic edging in. “You can’t just leave. We need to talk about this.”

I looked at him then, really looked at him. His face, the face I’d woken up to nearly every morning since I’d moved in with him six months ago, suddenly seemed foreign.

“The cabin,” I said, zipping the duffel bag closed. “I’m going to the cabin.”

“Our cabin trip? That’s next weekend.” His confusion was genuine, as if he thought we might still have a future with plans and dates to keep.

“No,” I replied. “My cabin trip. You’re not invited and I need some space to think.”

I walked past them both, grabbing my purse from the hook by the door. My suitcase waited in the hallway, a silent witness. I left it there. I didn’t want anything I’d packed for the conference. This homecoming had further emphasized why I hated drama. It also reminded me of how I’d changed my life’s direction to meet Eric’s expectations and needs. I’d chosen academia over social work even though my own background had called me to that field.

“You can’t drive all the way to the Smokies right now,” Jade said, her voice thin with forced reason. “It’s getting late. You’re upset. Stay at my place if you need space from Eric.”

The laugh that escaped me was brittle. “Are you for real right now?”

I was already down the hallway, duffel bag slung over my shoulder, when Eric caught up with me. “The cabin’s over three hours away. You’re not thinking clearly. At least let me drive you.”

I shook him off. “Don’t touch me. You never get to touch me again, Eric.”

I hurried out of the apartment building and got into my car. As I tried to leave, he got in front of my vehicle and stopped me.

“Mia! Stop acting like this! Go back inside and we can discuss this like adults.”

“Get out of my way or I’m going to run you over, Eric.”

He smirked. “No, you won’t.”

I saw red.

Eric must have seen something shift in my expression because his eyes widened. He backed up and out of the path of my vehicle, just before I gunned it and peeled out of the parking lot.

* * *

 

About the Author

Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited, vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts (which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with Marteeka's latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her website. Don't forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you with a potpourri of Teeka's beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

 

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

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Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

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