Title: Cassie
Series: Rebel Wayfarers MC, #12
Author: MariaLisa deMora
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: October 29, 2018
Series: Rebel Wayfarers MC, #12
Author: MariaLisa deMora
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: October 29, 2018
#neversaynever
After losing the woman he believed his one and only, can a man like Hoss have a second chance at true love?
Final main book in the Rebel Wayfarers MC saga.
For years, agoraphobic Cassandra Williamson has struggled to keep her world from collapsing entirely by pushing to do things that bring her pleasure, even as they carry fear. Acquiring art is one outlet she doggedly pursues, determined to bring compelling pieces into her life, even at the cost of nerve-racking visits to crowded gallery showings.
A long-time admirer of reclusive artist Isaiah Rogers, Cassie has made a point to snap up what she can of the increasingly rare pieces of artwork the biker-turned-painter makes publicly available. Any evening spent at one of his showings becomes a longed-for escape from her ever-narrowing world. The thing with these showings though, is to see…you must also be seen.
After organizing a meeting with the pretty, blonde art-lover Hoss found so intriguing, his emotions are stirred for the first time in years by a curiosity that feels inexplicably more. He’s been alone for such a long time, could this be his chance to find love again?
Even with many enemies defeated, life in an outlaw MC is never easy, or safe, and Hoss is forced to make a choice: His happiness, or perhaps her very life.
*Please note this book is part of the Rebel Wayfarers MC book series, featuring characters from additional books in the series. If the books are read out of order, you’ll twig to spoilers for the other books, so going back to read the skipped titles won’t have the same angsty reveals. I strongly recommend you read them in order. Available now: Mica (book #1), Slate (book #2), Bear (book #3), Jase (book #4), Gunny (book #5), Mason (book #6), Hoss (book #7), Duck (book #8), Watcher (book #9), Bones (book #10), and Fury (book #11).
What Others are Saying
“ I was pulled in from the get go and just loved how it gave me all the feels! I enjoyed the secondary characters and love how MariaLisa adds them in. Never overtaking, always giving the story more than you thought possible." – Shay, Mommy's A Book Whore
“One of the many reasons I love this author's writing style is because of her ability to make me feel everything. I never finish one of her books without feeling like I've been through the wringer, having my emotions squeezed out of me…. I'm feeling very bittersweet about this being the end of such a beautiful journey.” – Rosa, iScream Books Blog
"This was most definitely the best and saddest goodbye I have ever had to endure. I’ve grown to love these characters so much. I will never forget their journeys to finding love and the brotherhood that makes them the BEST MC series I have ever enjoyed." - Naughty Mom Story Time
Purchase Links
Excerpt
The art lover
Cassie
Cassandra Williamson sat on her couch and stared at the wall. Tomorrow, that empty, bare spot would be filled with beauty. Tomorrow.
The artist’s gallery show ended yesterday, and from past experience, she knew it took the service two days to crate and move the sold pieces. The timing was predictable, happening like clockwork, something she deeply appreciated. Tomorrow she would have to open her door, allowing people she didn’t know entry into her house. Maybe they’ll send the same delivery men. Barry and his crew. I can hope. Scant solace in that thought. Even if she liked him, Barry would still be invading her sanctuary. She drew a shuddering breath through her nose and then slowly blew air back out her pursed lips. I can do this, she thought, fists clenched tightly, pressing hard against the tense muscles in her thighs. I can do this. Another hard-earned breath, pulling air through an ever-tightening constriction.
She flicked her gaze towards the door, and her heart raced faster, picking up more as she looked back to the empty space. Then—and the conscious focus shift allowed her to relax slightly—to the covered walls that surrounded her. Over the past seven years, she had collected six paintings from the same local artist. Six pieces of art which, when she looked at them, drew her out of herself and back into memories of the world for at least an evening, remembering the first moment she saw them. Love at first sight. She released a humorous snort, the near brush with panic slowly ebbing away, fingers of tension easing from around her lungs. Paintings initially glimpsed across a crowded room, the colors and composition of the art calling out to her with such impact that she couldn’t walk away without knowing she would take some of that beauty with her. Each of the six provided her with a window into a world she hardly inhabited any longer.
Not for almost ten years.
That thought snaked through her mind, bringing the panic back full force, freezing her into place, eyesight dimming around the edges as she fought for control.
Cassie had been dealing with the affliction of anxieties all her life. From the near-normal teenage angst of obsessing over socially awkward moments up through now, when her fears could practically paralyze her, they were always there. She had pushed through when she could, found comfort in draping herself in soothing rituals, and used coping strategies to smooth over the anxiety when she couldn’t. Lately, the struggle seemed harder than ever, and it took real work to find reasons to force herself out of the house. Cassie wanted to refuse to bow before the demands of her anxiety, needing to experience anything, trying to bull through dealing with even the most uncomfortable situations in an effort to keep her world from narrowing even more than it had.
The art shows were one way she’d determined she could draw herself out. But it couldn’t be just any shows. God, no. The art has to be worth it. She had gained that knowledge after dealing with horrifically public panic attacks in the middle of more than one gallery.
Logically she would know afterwards that not every eye had turned towards her. But, in that moment, the weight of imagined stares could nearly bow her in half, making it impossible to move even an inch towards the temporary reprieve and safety in a bathroom, or the emotional failure of an exit. She’d be stuck in the center of a room, face, by turns, burning red or pale as death, her breathing fast and loud or drawn as tiny, short pants that invited dancing black spots of hyperventilation along the edges of her vision, and her skin damp with sweat that smelled like terror.
Just the thought of a public attack raised her respiration rate and Cassie had to fight to bring herself under control, refusing to spiral while sitting on her own couch. I’m safe here. Safe. Safe. Safe. She held tight to a failing conviction that felt slippery as an oiled snake. I hate being like this.
She stared at the uncomplaining empty space on the wall, a blameless opening patiently waiting for delivery of the piece she bought. There’d been wide-open terrain surrounding the beautiful woman in the painting, but somehow those vast, unfenced fields hadn’t been frightening when captured in stillness on canvas. Ease with an expanse like that was an anomaly for her, and she looked forward to hours of exploring the shading and pigmentation the artist used.
The artist. Cassie let herself think of him for a moment. Isaiah Rogers, semireclusive phenomenon and conundrum. A man who could create impossibly beautiful art while living the life of a solitary biker, at times compared by art critics to eccentric masters of the past. She pushed from the couch and stood, still staring at the wall. Breathe. She attempted to pull a ritual into play as she consciously ran the script through in her head.
Tomorrow morning I will hear the doorbell and open the door. Nothing bad will happen.
I will let the men in, and they will hang my new piece in place. Then they will leave. Nothing bad will happen.
Things will go just as they always have with the deliveries. Nothing bad will happen.
Their job. They will do their job, and then they will leave. And, nothing bad will happen to me. Never again.
Copyright © 2015-2018. MariaLisa deMora. All Rights Reserved.
In the Series
Series Reading Order & Series Buy Links
Also by MariaLisa deMora
Occupy Yourself Band series
• • • • • • •
Neither This, Nor That MC series
Author Bio
Raised in the south, MariaLisa learned about the magic of books at an early age. Every summer, she would spend hours in the local library, devouring books of every genre. Self-described as a book-a-holic, she says “I’ve always loved to read, but then I discovered writing, and found I adored that, too. For reading … if nothing else is available, I’ve been known to read the back of the cereal box.”
A hockey fan, hiker, gamer, and single mom of a special needs son, she embraces her inner geek and has been working in the tech field for a publishing company for a couple decades.
Music is a driving passion, and she says, “I love music of nearly any genre — jazz, country, rock, alt rock, metal, classical, bluegrass, rap, hip-hop … you name it, I listen to it. I can often be seen dancing through the house in the early mornings. But I really, REALLY love live music. My favorite thing with music is seeing bands in small, dive bars [read: small, intimate venues]. If said bar [venue] has a good selection of premium tequila, then that’s a plus!”
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