Nova (Reckless Souls MC #9) Read Online KB Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Reckless Souls MC Series by KB Winters

Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60234 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)

Maggie’s gang wants her head, Nova’s MC needs her gone—but first, they must resist their explosive chemistry in this forbidden biker romance. The demons of PTSD gnaw at me, growing stronger every day. Like I’m stuck in an escape room I can’t get out of.
Enter Maggie. Beaten. Broken. Abused. When she stumbles into my clinic looking for help, something shifts inside me. An unexplainable pull I’ve never felt before.
I know I can help her. But is this fire between us real, or is my magnifying mind playing tricks on me?
Then I uncover the brutal truth—Maggie belongs to the MC’s biggest threat. The crew who tried to kill my brothers.
But the streets are cruel, and they’re closing in on her.
I’m torn—do I turn my back on my MC for one split second to keep her safe? Every fiber of my being screams to protect her, no matter the cost.
If I fail, the shadows will consume us both.
If I succeed, the passion between us could set her free...or destroy everything I’ve built.
I’ve never taken such a risk for anyone. But for a chance with Maggie, I’ll put it all on the line.
The clock is ticking and I’m racing to decide—is saving Maggie worth the risk?
My choice will change everything.

If you love bad boy military veterans and stories of forbidden attraction, then you’ll be hooked by former Army medic Nova’s undeniable chemistry with a woman tied to his dangerous rival in this intense motorcycle club romance!

Don’t wait to see if these star-crossed lovers defy the odds or if tragedy strikes—grab your copy today!

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



Demon sits proudly behind the steering wheel with that devilish grin of his. “We’re getting these fuckers right now.” His confidence seeps through every word.

“What fuckers?” I don’t need to ask. I know the answer. I just need to hear him say it.

“Those Reckless Souls pendejos. Think they can snatch my boy from me? Fuck that. Viper was mine first.”

I’d do anything for Demon, but this is some bad shit. He’s still reeling over Viper’s betrayal. His anger masked a deep hurt, too damn proud to admit it.

“You sure about this, Demon? It’s been years since your boy crossed over.”

His smile twists into a scowl, pissed at my doubt. “What? You think I can’t handle them?”

“Course you can, Papi. You’re a beast when you want to be. But it’s just you and me. We’re outnumbered.”

He grin’s back. “Ain’t just you and me, Mami. Howler and Malibu been keeping tabs on ‘em. We know where they’re at. Gordo’s rollin’ with them too.”

Damn it. No way out now. “Oh. What’s the plan?”

He parks the shiny red Impala in a half-finished housing development. Gives me the look. “We walk in, beat the fuck outta him, and his bitch, then two bullets each. Cool with that?”

I shrug. “Yeah, sure. Of course.”

We hook up with Malibu and Howler. Moving toward one of the empty show homes. That moron Howler bangs on the window, flashing his piece like he’s in some action movie.

Two shots pop off. Howler crumples to the ground.

Demon roars, “Motherfucker!” charging forward, gun leading the way. Bullets start raining down, and I freeze like a damn rookie.

Then Viper steps out. He’s different, looks older, handsome in his leather vest with the patches. He don’t look like the young gangbanger I remember. He’s filled out. Matured.

A shot narrowly misses him. He shoots back, landing three shots in Malibu.

“What the fuck, Maggie?” Gordo bolts past me, his forty caliber in his grip.

I snap out of it, charging into the fray. It’s expected. It’s what I gotta do. Then my ankle gives way, sending me sprawling to the ground, screaming as I tumble into a ditch. “Demon!” I cry out.

More shots go off. By the time I scrambled out of the ditch, Demon’s lying dead on the grass, Viper’s sprawled on the cement steps, and Gordo’s shoving a screaming blonde into our ride like she’s a rag doll.

A week later and the rain pounding the warehouse echoes my fucked-up feelings. Demon’s pushing up daisies. My own damn crew, the Bloodthirsty Devils, they want me dead.

I’m lower than low, even worse off than when Moms kicked me out. Got no dinero in my pocket. No food and no homies got my back.

Cold seeps into my bones ‘cause Southern California decided to pull a fast one and rain non-stop for days. Now I’m on the side of town with the other forgotten people, those no one gives a fuck about, like me the rest of the world has written off, thinks they’re dead, or wish they were.

I shiver uncontrollably and pull my jacket around me tight like it will help fight off the cold. I’m so stupid to think I could just roll back into the barrio, back to what I thought was mi familia. Instead, they say I iced Demon, that I played both sides.

Fuck that.

I’d never do a damn thing to hurt Demon.

Fucking Ghost. That two-faced snake. For years he was Demon’s right-hand man, and now he can’t wait until the body is cold before calling himself El Jefe. His first order of business? Greenlighting me.

I look around the dark warehouse feeling like a pathetic, weak bitch, something I vowed I’d never feel again. And yet, here I am. Scared. Emotional. Alone.

It’s been raining for three days straight. It hardly ever rains in California, but this year is different. And that’s about how many days of hunger it takes before I start digging into dumpsters for food. At first, I only searched for shit that was still wrapped up, uneaten.

By day five, my standards have hit rock bottom. I’ll take anything edible, not rotten or covered with dirty diapers or cigarette butts. The cash in my pocket isn’t for food. It’s for survival. I need to work out a plan, but I can’t do shit until my old crew gets sick of chasing me and starts gunning for the bikers whose bullets actually ended Demon’s life.

“Shit, Demon,” I hiss into the darkness. We were a team, two peas in a pod. This warehouse was the backdrop of our first time doin’ the dirty. I think I was fifteen, maybe sixteen. I thought it all meant something. But I guess that doesn’t matter now. He’s gone.

Anger flares in my chest. “Goddammit, Demon! Why? Why did you have to die?” I break down in tears, sobbing over the loss. My best friend, my man. My life.