PREACHER MAN : Soundtrack

I wish I could be that writer who has complex music playlists that make absolute sense to each story. I’m not that organised, I listened to anything and everything while I wrote Dirty Salvation. I joked that I listened to Build me up Buttercup while I wrote that murder scene, and while I probably didn’t listen to that exact song, it wouldn’t have been far wrong from something dance-poppy and very un-murdery-muse like. I’ve never needed that muse of background noise to inspire the words.

But, having said that, two songs have stood out throughout the process of Preacher Man, and I kept coming back to them time and again as I wrote the more relationship driven scenes that just fit my two leads from the tone and the lyrics, so I thought for those who do love music to go along with their books, I would share the two songs.

They should hopefully make a lot of sense when you read Preacher and Ruby.

Maroon 5 – It was Always You.

Julia Michaels – Issues.


Saturday Teaser from the upcoming Preacher Man

Do you remember the first kiss to knock your socks off? Ruby does. Here’s an unedited sneak peek into RS’s road captain Preacher’s first kiss with Ruby.

Preacher Man is book two in the Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga series coming Soon!

You can add it to your TBR here on Goodreads:



Disclaimer: Picture found on the interwebz and edited.

She all but scowled at him. What in the good hell had that been, shoving her behind him like he expected the big bad ogres to gobble her up? Really? The man was crazy. She’d seen worse than a few drunk men. “I have perfectly good working legs, Preacher man. You all but threw me over your shoulder, frightened I might smile at your buddies? god, forbid. You can relax, I don’t go with bikers.”

His entire body swerved. A mass of muscle towering over her, keeping her locked into the side of the bar. “Is that so, beautiful?” his voice said he was about to prove her wrong. She sighed and waited for it, the glint of his green eyes backed up his unspoken claim.

Why did she keep saying these things, she already pegged he was competitive.

“No, I take it back. I want to do them all. Line them all for me.” she clapped like he was her manservant. Preacher laughed, the noise had the desired effect and tingled between her legs. “I’ll start with the handsome blonde one in the blue T-shirt, he looked like a Hollywood movie star researching a role; When bikers go rogue. A smash hit for 2018.”

He brought his stare to hers. His mouth curved with the hint of a grin. “Pretty-boy will like that if I ever told him, which I’m not.”

“You’re making him forbidden? don’t you know what means to a woman? you did it now, he’s looking mighty good, move out of my way, let me go work my siren song on mister Hollywood.” she joked but he still towered in her path stopping her from moving.

His head came down so they were eye-to-eye.

How could he look like a straight up axe-murderer and an underwear model at the same time? by rights he shouldn’t appeal to her, he wasn’t classically beautiful, his face had white scars, skin tanned from too much sun and he had lines under his eyes like he wasn’t sleeping much, but, Jesus in heaven, he appealed on that primary most obvious level of she was very much attracted to this man.

And that pissed her off.

Bikers were off limits.

Dangerous men were a no-go.

And Preacher, the notorious thinks with his dick man, he was all the bad decisions a woman could ever make and a lifetime of regret all wrapped up in a six foot six rock hard package.

He didn’t get the earlier message, not from the way he moved or gazed hungrily down at her, eyes glinting. One finger reached out, he gave her enough time to reject the touch, he really did. Ruby just stood there stunned, braced to be touched by him. And when it came, a stroke down her cheekbone, subtle, barely there and over in a second she let go on the air trapped in her nervous lungs.

“Don’t you feel it, beautiful, when we touch, doesn’t it shift something in you?”


He stepped further into her space sucking all the oxygen out of the atmosphere.

“Dammit, Preacher. You can’t say that.”

“You don’t know how badly I want to fuck your mouth with mine.”

“I don’t even like you…” Weak. Lame. Lies. It was all she had to offer because she feared if given the choice right then and there she’d spend her rent money on one kiss. Just to see how good it would be.

“Then, you better throw out a protest while you can, because I’m three seconds away and you’re reaching up on your toes…”

Was she?

Fuck. She was. Too late. His mouth crashed down on hers, he swallowed her gasp and took the moment of her surprise to slip his tongue inside.

After that any feeble attempt at a protest died with his amazing taste filling her mouth, corralling her in its web and enticing her to fuck his mouth back.

She did. Until she ran out of oxygen.

Hot grabby kisses. Kisses to stain her soul.

Preacher was a good foot taller than her, Ruby was encased by him, helped along by the grip on the top of her arms pulling her higher on her toes so he could take more of her lips, she helped sucking on his lower one until he groaned, her arms wound around his shoulders doing some of her own dragging.

Just this.

Just a little more.

Allowing herself to ride the intoxicated sensation until her blood fizzled threatening to explode like a volcano. How could she assume he wouldn’t be very good at kissing?

The man was a kissing master.

Sending her crazy. Making her crave like never before. It was a throb.

A desperate ache began in her belly, blooming outwards, reaching all corners and god, he pushed her into a wall and if it was possible he kissed her deeper, all tongue and teeth working in tandem until her body was a ball of flames controlled solely by him.

“Preacher. Wait..wait. Hold it.”

“No. Kiss me.” He groaned licking over her tongue.

Oh god. Yes. That.

She loved tongue in kissing. If it was done right and some men needed to go back to square one, what with the thrusting and the slurping. Preacher was a damn tongue maestro.

Hard. Slow. Just how she guessed he wanted to fuck her.

When they parted it was only because air had become a necessary need. His hands bracketed her neck, holding her steady, his mouth taking nips.

He invaded her mouth with a forcefulness that was completely out of line and yet she leaned into him, opened her lips and moaned the second his tongue was in contact with hers. It was an odd sensation, a stirring in her belly, like excitement and dread all mashed into one amalgamation of lust. He didn’t give her time to think before he swooped and plundered and how sexy is that, that tiny part of her that is submissive and wants to be dominated takes over, grabs his shirt and she enjoyed the kiss of the century.

It suggested forbidden.

It should be wrong.

He’s everything she’d avoided and should continue to swerve. She’d seen him casually screw countless women for god’s sake, recognizes clearly he’s trying to make her number nine billion in that list.

She couldn’t stop kissing him. His mouth was skilled, moving this way, that way, dipping to deepen, backing off to nibble, but always keeping strong contact. Her lips were swollen.

Kiss swelled by Preacher. Now there’s a poster slogan.

In any case Ruby did go on kissing him, her fingers clutched the front of his shirt, he was so damn tall her neck was almost broken with the awkward angle, his taste is explosive, strong, masculine with a hint of mint in the background, he tasted so damn good she practically purred for more of his tongue stroking hers, he laughed against her lips.

The sound sexy as hell.

Her core clenched hard enough she practically orgasmed where she stood. His fingers trailed to the base of her spine where she was sensitive, not many men knew that about her, but he seemed to hone in on that spot, drawing circles, making her melt into a feline purr against his tongue.

She’d thought kissing a man with a beard would be ghastly, not pleasant.

It was the complete opposite. He kept his goatee part of his facial hair trimmed close to the skin, and it was silky soft as though he tended to it like a garden.

The man was sexy as the devil himself.



Book One: Dirty Salvation.

Buy here:


Teaser Tuesday – Dirty Salvation

It’s only TWO WEEKS until this bad boy is released into the world on April 3. Here’s a sneak at a good girl unable to resist a very bad man.


It was Oscar Wilde who said to yield to temptation or forever yearn for the forbidden. And it was Scrooge McDuck who said more is better.
How could anyone truly resist Rider and not go back for seconds and thirds? Zara could ponder on that question for a decade and still not have an answer. He was a tall drink of biker water in a long lean glass with an added bad boy straw she just wanted to slurp on for hours. For weeks, he had broken her resolve, placing himself in such a way she’d began to drop her fear. Or maybe he’d just battered it down.
She didn’t know which.
The longing had become unbearable to the point she had to give herself pep talks ‘don’t lick his face’ ‘you can’t rub on him like a cat in heat’
Why she put these restrictions on herself she’d hadn’t examined that far, she knew from the look in his eyes whenever they landed on her he had been more than up for … rubbing and licking.
She’d been scared and he still was a dangerous man.
The only guy she’d wanted from the moment she’d seen him, that instant electric attraction, had wanted for forever afterwards, it seemed as so, the only sexual experience she’d enjoyed and the dense moment she realized he wanted something with her again she’d been apprehensive that if they tried to pick up where they left off she would be launched back to the days of the Rebels and recoil instinctively away from Rider’s touch.
Fear was a wicked monster clinging to every insecurity, whispering the harshest things.
And salvation could also be dirty.
It was better not to have then to be afraid of the could be’s she’d told herself all the while keeping him at arm’s length and yet using him for his uncompromising protection. She’d passed the previous days growing stronger understanding Rider watched her not only to keep her safe but for something altogether more personal and carnal, her mind whirred through its normal cycle of guilt and self-loathing even as she was as intrigued by him in return, coloring her thoughts in shades of black.
Circling each other like animals.
With one kiss Rider, had knocked her resigned undertaking on its bony ass and now she lay under him panting out of breath, her heart pounding behind her ribcage, pleasure so acute she was still feeling it through her system minutes later as she tried to grab onto any sane thought.
The man knew sex. Wow.
Jesus, who knew good sex could make a woman lose her mind? If Zara ever caught her breath again she was going to patent whatever voodoo sexy magic Rider was playing with because he’d reached inside and took every insecurity she had until all she craved was him in this naked sweaty form drenched in their pleasure.
It had been impossible to get away from her own darkness. Or so she thought.
Here she was basking in the light of a beautiful bad man.
Rider had taken it all, every secret corner of her broken being, and burned it down into the hottest passion.
Her skin sizzled.
She felt … glorious.

Dirty Salvation. Copyright © 2017 V. Theia. All rights reserved.



Sneak Peek; Sunday Smutday

Here is an exclusive scene from the upcoming DIRTY SALVATION. Released April 3.


When they’d pulled into the driveway Rider waited until she’d climbed down off his Harley before throwing his leg off and standing at his staggering height, setting his bike right there. Holding her hand up the pathway towards the door, still, he didn’t speak. She gave him long sideways glances, gnawing at her lip.
“I can make some food. Pasta would be quick, you hardly ate a thing today Rider.” Maybe after that, they could watch a movie, get back into a regular routine.
He gave a noncommittal grunt.
They stepped into the dark house, he clipped on a hall light. She’d make him pasta and insist her got a good night’s sleep if only so he could—– omph. Out of nowhere, he’d kicked the door shut, rounded on Zara and bodily lifted her under the armpits, throwing her up against the wall using his entire hard body to keep her there. What choice did she have but to wrap her limbs around that long lean body and consent to her mouth being swept open, to accept the slide of his tongue, seducing his taste into her mouth until she was consumed in their shared blistering kiss.
Hearing him emit that husky, breathless sound and accepting that he’d rushed her home because this was so a sex thing, Zara, clung to his wide shoulders, kissing him back just as ferociously.
She knew how he liked it. A lot of tongue.
Lust twisted her insides, filling her every breathe with him, he was such a tireless lover when he got going.
They hadn’t even taken off coats and here they were making out like horny teens in the hallway, his mouth owning hers, hips pumping together causing delicious friction.
On the opposite wall to where Zara was suspended like aged wagyu beef, stood the entryway table, with its carved wooden legs and two drawers that held little odds and bits with no proper home they all got shoved into those drawers, it was usually where they dropped the house keys on entry, she’d thought to place a vase of something pretty on top one of these days, she’d always loved seasonal décor. Above it was a large mirror showing their images, decor was far from her mind as her neck arched, head cracking against the wall as Rider’s hot mouth scraped down her throat with savage obsessive kisses, it was an animalistic frenzy, his grunts reached deep inside and melted her into liquid, her eyes flipped open and stared at their reflection.
Not only were his sounds savage and needful, his hands raked down her sides grasping her even tighter into him, his head burrowed to the side of her neck dragging wet starved kisses, dry humping her madly, her pussy had its own heartbeat of want, his hands everywhere all at once, overwhelming her in the sexual power that was all Rider.
It was possibly the sexiest caress of her entire life, and it wasn’t even skin-to-skin. The man undid her with the simplest of things. A kiss here, a smile there and she became a puddle on the floor.
She moaned and undulated, his driving tongue kissing down to her spleen. She sucked and pulled him into her mouth.
Maybe the pasta could wait. Her libido couldn’t. She helped him drag her coat off dumping it on the floor. The hard bulge poking her belly dictated they rush.
“Want you, Icy.”
“I’m right here.” starved of oxygen she spoke against his rough lips, his beard grazing her skin.
“Need you now.”
Those words. He had no idea how they affected her, how they chased the ghosts from her heart and replaced them with light and love. She’d give him anything.
“Take me then, Rider. Take me how you need to take me, don’t hold back. I want you just as badly as you want me.” With her hands shoved hard into his hair she pulled back and did some of her own attacking, their kiss this time was feral, moans clashed the same way their tongues did, Rider was practically eating her with sensuality, drowning her in it, so close to an orgasm she just wanted out of her clothes already, for him to fuck her as wild as he was possessing her lips.
The sight of them wrapped around each other hit her hard, it was a wild press of heat deep in her breastbone, burrowing into her heart, the want of him clawing at her. She saw how her eyes were glazed looking back at herself, consumed with lust, she was making her own noises of encouragement, garbling his name in gasping pants while her blood, warm and fizzy boiled in her veins.
He did this to her.
Three seconds was all it had taken for her to catch up to his level of demand, to match it as she fisted his hair pulling him back and then did her own attacking of his mouth, tongues slicked wetly together.
It wasn’t the prettiest of kisses but it was the hottest. A kiss that started as one thing and morphed into something new, something real and dark and wanton. A kiss that could addict her in seconds. No one tasted like Rider did, he was spice and danger.
“Right here. Fuck, gotta get inside you, baby. Right now.”
“Do it. Do it, Rider. Fuck me.”
Hands began ripping at her clothes. His hips kept her pinned to the wall, legs just dangling in mid-air. Hoisted like she didn’t weigh a thing. She didn’t care, she wanted him out of his mind.
Her needful man.
They’d all had a terrible shock the last couple of days, fraught with grief and anger as well as being locked in together. It brought their own mortality raging to the surface, she understood why Rider wanted her so badly, the proof of life was strong, to know they were alive and together and no one was coming between them. She helped rip their clothes away and when his long thick cock sprung from his jeans into her hands she moaned in the back of her throat.
A dirty needy noise.
She initiated the next kiss.
Dazzling scorching pleasure.
“Now, Ambrosio. Fuck me, please, right now, I need you inside me. You need to be inside me.”
He broke their kiss long enough to reach down, to grasp his cock, to drag it through her wetness, no matter how desperate he always was for her, he made sure she was ready to take him. Her heart sped up, flopped around in heat and love, melting more for this great bad man. There was something so primal in his movements. Precise and unfettered.
She wanted this second to go on and never end.
And then with a lunge, he shoved deep and hardest inside Zara then he ever had before, roaring a glorious noise, causing her entire body to go rigid before loosening in that slow release of pleasure as he settled in, her walls accepting him.
He was huge, it always hurt at first.
A good hurt.
“That sound right there, in your throat. It’s mine.” he was panting in her face, eyes dark fogged by pleasure. “fuckin’ love that noise, like you’re gonna come any second for me, so tight grasping around me. Needed this, Icy.”
What a sight they made in the hallway mirror, Rider with his jeans halfway down his strong hairy thighs, most of his butt on show, Zara’s hair crazy messy from the forceful threading of his fingers, she wore jeans only on one leg and her shirt was torn open so his mouth could find her nipples.
It was beyond decadent that she watched how he fucked her, his pumping becoming frantic, their images echoed in the mirror like a movie scene. Both of his hands held under her thighs, working his hips, grunting against her lips, churning himself, whispering starved obscene, evocative encouragement to her, they hadn’t needed any long teasing foreplay, having Rider inside her was life itself. “Oh god. Please. Harder.”
she whimpered grabbing around the back of his nape taking the solid slams, each one hitting her in that special place of madness. Pleasure blinded her.
“Going to.”
And he did, for long minutes stood in the brightly lit hallway, he fucked Zara into oblivion, until her bones were weak and her lungs shook from calling out his name.
This, she mused, slack arms around his shoulders, coming down from the bliss while he peppered her in kisses, was one of life’s rare moments of completion. She breathed him, and kissed him back. When you thought about it, the small things were what mattered, that collection of tiny happiness moments all added up to this.

Dirty Salvation. Copyright © 2017 V. Theia. All rights reserved.