Read Ebook {PDF EPUB} Hunter by A.E. Fisher Hunter by A.E. Fisher (ePUB, PDF, Downloads) Hunter (Black Angels MC #1) by A.E. Fisher – Free eBooks Download. Description: Mallory I spent years running from my past. Then, when my past comes knocking in the form of dark, delicious sin, I find myself caught up in a man I shouldn’t. My son’s uncle. A dangerous biker. Not to mention, an overbearing Alpha male. Hunter is everything I need to escape from, yet I find myself wanting to stay. I know I shouldn’t let myself or my son care for him, but I can’t help wondering if maybe he’s the one who can finally save me from my past. Hunter The plan was simple. Find my nephew, bring him home, and raise him in the Black Angels like my brother would have wanted. But things never go as planned, like my nephew’s mother. My brother’s one-night stand. Mallory is spicy and sweet; one second she is mouthing off to me, and the next, she is moaning my name. The longer I’m with her, the harder she is to ignore. But she is hiding something while desperate to escape me, though I have her in my grasp. I will find out what she is hiding, and when I do, she will have nowhere left to run. Hunter by A.E. Fisher. “Mallory,” Hunter whispered. I could see the pain in his eyes, hear the pain in his voice, but it was nothing compared to the agony in his next words. “Noble’s dead.” “He isn’t coming back.” A dark shadow past over Hunter’s face as if he had been tortured beyond repair by whatever memory haunted him. “The dead don’t come back.” It was the slam of reality that came crashing down on top of me. The pain of the past hitting me all over again because I knew. I knew Noble was dead. I knew Noble wasn’t coming back. I knew it, and yet, for just a moment, I had … My voice broke, and I felt hope crumbling around me. “I thought … I really thought it was him.” Tears poured down my cheeks as Hunter brought his arms around me and lifted me before striding down the hall. “I know,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to my head. “I know.” I shut the door behind me, leaving Adair and Mallory curled up on my bed. Then, leaning back against the painted wood, I ran a hand down my face. My body ached with exhaustion, but I couldn’t bring myself to sleep. Everything had seemed like a roller coaster the second Lamb and Pretty had walked out that door. I swore that moment had shocked me back to the second I had turned that corner, heard that swerve, and saw the crash and the explosion. And then … I shook the memories away, refusing to let them plague me when they had nearly destroyed everything I loved three years ago. “You okay?” Kay looked up at me and smiled. The woman was beautiful with her strawberry-blonde hair and gray eyes, a mother to all the boys in her club. A true president’s wife before Roscoe, her old man and our ex-president, had died. I shrugged. It was the best I could offer. Kay stepped to the side of the hallway to let me pass. When she dipped her chin at me, I knew she would look after them as I headed to the other side of the clubhouse. I rapped on the door with the plaque “President’s Office,” and it opened the next second. Wolf stood there with the door wide open as I passed into the small room and through a second door, where Jax, Lamb, and Pretty all sat around, waiting. The long, black glass table looked bigger with half my brothers missing. Wolf sat down at the head of the table and moved the black gavel out of the way since this meeting wasn’t for Church. I sat down to his right across from Lamb and next to Jax. Lamb looked as cool and unruffled as ever, despite the eerie calm radiating from his body. “Your girl good?” he asked. My brain hitched on the title of possession, but I didn’t feel like correcting him. “Kay’s with her.” They all gave a small nod, small traces of relief on their faces and a big bruise on Pretty’s. Seeing Mallory in his arms had set off so many alarms that I had panicked. Ripper had taken Adair off my hands the moment he saw what was going on, and I had charged forward. Lamb had held me back long enough for Pretty to take her upstairs and call on Kay to check her over. But when Pretty had denied me entry to my own room, I had snapped and swung. It had taken Lamb, Jax, and Pretty to drag me out the clubhouse before Wolf came out after them and yelled at me until I calmed down. Pretty had shrugged off the hit, saying it was understandable. And for that reason alone, I had asked if Pretty could join our little meeting. He had earned it. With that out of the way, Wolf went straight for the kill. “Adair ain’t yours. He’s Noble’s kid.” I looked down at the glass table as if my eyes might bore a hole through it. Despite the burden of the lie being lifted off my shoulders, I still hated myself for lying in the first place. “Yeah.” “No wonder he didn’t look a damn thing like you,” Lamb said, leaning back in his chair. I offered him a growl, and Lamb just shrugged. Cocky bastard. “Why hide it?” Jax asked, only now realizing what the others seemed to have already suspected. “Mallory had one condition on coming back. That I tell everyone he’s mine. Otherwise, she’d run hard and fast with that kid, and I don’t want Adair living that kind of life. No way am I having him growing up having to run from his family.” “Shit, man.” Jax looked at me. “She’s one of those women?” “No, she’s not,” I growled. “If she was one of those women, she’d be using Adair against me to get something from it. Running doesn’t get her anything.” “Unless you’re not the one she’s running from,” Lamb spoke. I’d had suspicions from the moment I had started tracking her down from state to state, and I had confirmed them when I had found her and she had desperately resisted coming back. “No,” I agreed. “I’m not.” “Then who?” Jax asked. “Don’t know.” I shrugged. “That’s why I want to look at that security tape. Someone hotwired my truck.” “Brother.” Pretty chuckled. “That wasn’t any man.” He held up a remote and clicked play on the flat screen TV on the wall. The parking lot flickered to life on the screen. It was at an awkward angle, but you could see Mallory clearly in the front seat as I walked away after locking her in the truck. Pretty hit the fast-forward button, the speed increasing as he watched Mallory rage for a minute that was more like ten before she went still, and then she curled over and her shoulders started shaking. It took me a moment to realize through the silence of the video that she was crying, and it was like a hard punch to the gut. Everyone in the room was quiet, and Pretty didn’t speed up the video until after she had stopped. A minute or so later, Jax appeared at her door but was there only for a few minutes before she wound the window up and waved at him. I turned to look at the man lounging in his seat. He simply shrugged with a small grin. I shook my head then continued watching the video. Mallory looked more than angry with the way she sat with her arms crossed over her chest, her face set in a hard glare as she stared at people going in and out of the club without them even noticing her. But as the people went by, one finally came out that caught her attention. He came out the side door, not the front, with a black hood thrown over his head as he headed out of the parking lot. Mallory watched him, but he didn’t see her, even as he walked behind the truck. He looked up and back at the door, the camera unable to catch his face from that angle, but suddenly Mallory started moving. She half-leaped down into the truck, and then the truck began to vibrate as Mallory leaped up with a relieved smile flickering across her face before she kicked the door open and went into a flat-out sprint out of the camera’s frame and after the man in black. The video kept going through, and then I saw Pretty leave with one of the kids. Only minutes later, he came back with Mallory limp in his arms, yelling, as Lamb ran out the door. Pretty turned the video off. We all knew what had happened next. I sat staring at the black screen that told me next to nothing. Loads of people came out of those parties, and Mint, who had been minding the gate, said he only remembered seeing her running off and went to talk to Lamb. It was Lamb who had dismissed it and said it was probably one of the hanger-ons since no one had even met Mallory to recognize her description. As if knowing what I was thinking, Lamb looked at me from across the table. “Sorry, brother.” I waved him off. “I shouldn’t have left her in the truck in the first place. Shouldn’t have forced her to come.” “So, what are we calling this?” Pretty asked, looking concerned as he stared down the table at our president, who had been quiet all throughout the video, taking in and absorbing the information. He turned to look at me, leaving me to call it. “It was nothing,” I said. “Ghosts don’t exist.” And that was that. The man in the hoodie was probably a partygoer taking his exit, and Mallory had been left in the truck too long and became dehydrated. She had mistaken him and hit her head on the climbing frame when she had fainted. When I rose from my chair, my brothers rose with me. Then I turned and walked out, heading back to the room where my woman was waiting. Only one thing played on my mind. One thing I needed to face. Hunter had come to get us after disappearing, and now it had been a silent ride back to the house. We’d had to borrow a car from one of the club brothers since I’d mauled Hunter’s. Even sitting next to him in the big sedan, I couldn’t bring myself to apologize. I was too tired to think any complex thoughts, my mind a little numb and fuzzy with the traces of a headache. I had only gotten an hour or so of pleasant unconsciousness after apparently knocking myself out on the climbing frame at the park, and with all the events of the day, we were well into the night when I spotted Hunter’s beautiful home. We pulled up the driveway of the house, and as I climbed out, about to turn to take the sleeping Adair out of his seat, Hunter touched my shoulder. He put his keys in my hand and moved to the back of the car, opening the door and unbuckling Adair. He lifted him with ease compared to all my years of tremendous effort, and if I had been the least bit alive right then, I probably would have been jealous. He gestured me forward, and I walked up the steps to the house and unlocked the door, swinging it open wide enough for him to pass through. He headed for the steps, and as I was about to follow him up, he stopped and looked down at me. “Wait there.” He carried on up the steps with Adair’s chubby face smashed against his shoulder and neck and disappeared into our bedroom. My brain and body both moaned in protest when I realized Hunter’s unsaid words. We needed to talk. I sighed, knowing there was no way I could get out of it, or at the least postpone it until I’d had a minimum of three days of sleep. So, I made two cups of coffee and sat down at the breakfast bar. When Hunter came down less than a minute later, my brain was already functioning a little more, thanks to the caffeine. He looked more ragged than I had ever seen him. His hair was all over the place, his eyes tired, and his shirt was wrinkled with what looked like a little bit of drool on his shoulder. He reached past me and grabbed the other cup before walking over to the second sitting area at the back of the house. I followed him as he opened the back door and strode out. The summer air was humid but warm, even in the dead of night, as Hunter settled on the wooden bench. Over my two weeks of living with him, I had seen him sit on that bench more times than I could count. If I ever needed to find him for something, though I often refrained from doing so unless there was no way I could do whatever task it was, I would find him out here. “Sit,” Hunter said, keeping his gaze down the length of the yard. “I think I’d rather stand.” Nope. No getting out of this one. I took cautious steps around him until I sat on the other side of the bench. His body was so big and bulky that he took up at least two-thirds of it, leaving me with a tiny bit of room to squeeze my round ass into while trying to put as much room between us as I could. The intimately small length of the bench didn’t offer much help. I brought my coffee to my lips, the steam rolling over my face as if it might become a veil for the topic Hunter wanted to discuss. I was about ninety percent sure I wouldn’t want to hear it. I was about to take a sip when Hunter finally spoke. “Why were you crying?” “What?” I choked, almost spilling my coffee. “In the car, in the parking lot.” “Oh.” I looked down into the mug of dark, burnt liquid, watching the light of the house flicker over its rippling surface. I tipped my mug side to side, watching it swirl and wash against the side of the white porcelain. When I looked back up, I found Hunter looking down at me. His green eyes were intense, the backlight from the house catching them at the right angle, making them seem like they were glowing. His eyebrows were drawn together, as if mystified by my actions. “Why?” Why did he want to know? From his expression, I could see it wasn’t plain curiosity. “And if I say I don’t want to talk about it?” His persistence made me curious. After the way he had treated me, aside from the icing moment, he had done nothing but treat me as an attachment of his nephew’s. A thing he had to tolerate and took every opportunity to badger into doing things I didn’t want to do. “An eye for an eye,” I said. “Tell me why you want to know, and I’ll tell you why I was crying.” Hunter looked at me with a passive expression, but I could see the thoughts behind his eyes. “Because you’re a bitch.” “Excuse me?” I blurted. Hunter’s eyes darkened as he looked me over, narrowing them on my face and curling his lips in disgust. “You’re the bitch who hid my brother’s son from me … from his family. The bitch who ran away from all the people she cared about and didn’t look back. The bitch who stole my nephew and dragged him up and down the country from shithole to shithole. The bitch who is cold-hearted, vapid, and selfish.” His hands bunched up tighter on his lap as I sat there, gob smacked. I had no response. None at all. However, I managed to find them after his next few words. “The bitch who didn’t give a shit about my brother. Never did.” “I loved Noble!” I yelled, throwing myself from the chair, knocking my coffee all over the grass. “It may only have been a one-night stand for Noble, but that didn’t stop me from loving him. I loved him then, and I love him now! I took my son from here, because that was the best thing for him, to protect what Noble and I created! Our precious son. Our child. Our beautiful baby boy! I did it to protect him!” The fury and hurt raging through me was impossible to control. “You don’t have the right to tell me who I loved and who I didn’t! You. Do. Not. Have. The. Right.” Hunter jumped from his seat, towering over me. “Then why run?” I froze. The words were clinging to my chest, unable to escape. I fought to pry them free, but the ache in my chest began to burn. I didn’t want to tell him. “Why. Did. You. Run?” Hunter yelled. “Because it was my fault!” I cried, the words ripping out of my chest. “I’m the reason Noble’s dead!” “What?” Hunter breathed. His whole body went rigid, his hands pressed into tight fists as his gaze bore down on me. I couldn’t bring myself to look up. “I hurt him that day,” I spoke, my voice much quieter than I hoped. “That day, when I came to the club’s parking lot, when I told him that I was pregnant, when he figured out I trapped him like one of those women …” I shook my head. “I betrayed his trust. I betrayed him. I broke my heart that day … and I broke his. It was my fault he got on that stupid bike and didn’t stay at the clubhouse all day like he said he would. It was my fault he got into that accident … My fault he died.” Not once had I ever told anybody that, but it didn’t make the agony any worse. It didn’t make my sins any more forgivable … Make my heart any less broken. “Mallory,” Hunter whispered, stepping into my space. I could hear the dry grass crunching under his feet as his scent enveloped me. Then he cupped my chin with his large, calloused hand, lifting it until I had no other choice but to look at his face. My breath caught in my throat at his expression. So much agony and pain written into his hard features. Ropes of muscles bulged out of his neck, and the tightness of his lips looked like he was fighting to k eep the pain at bay. Not just his own pain, but a reflection of my pain as well. Then it all disappeared, and left in its wake was a sad, broken man. “It wasn’t your fault, darlin’. Never your fault.” “He died hating me, Hunter. He died mad at the world because of what I did. He drove that bike to get away from me.” I shook my head. “That’s my fault.” As much as I wished I could be forgiven, I couldn’t. Not now. Not ever. “No, he didn’t, Mallory,” Hunter whispered, sweeping his fingers across my tear-stained cheek. “You don’t know that for sure.” I shook my head at him. “I know,” Hunter said, his voice full of a conviction he couldn’t possibly have. He brought his face closer to mine. “I know, and it’s not your fault. You hear me? Not. Your. Fault.” I kept shaking my head, taking a step back, but Hunter followed me, not letting go of my face or my gaze. “Mallory,” Hunter snapped, and I stopped trying to move. “Come here,” he whispered. He lifted his hand to the back of my head, cupping it as if it was the most fragile thing in the world, and then pulled me into his arms and held tight. I was stiff against him until his lips pressed against my ear. “It’s not your fault.” “If I hadn’t told him … If I’d just left, or—” “No, Mallory,” Hunter whispered. “Noble wouldn’t have let you leave. He would have loved Adair, treasured him, treasured you. Trust me when I tell you”—he squeezed me, his face buried in my neck—“it isn’t your fault.” For a moment, I felt as if my world had stopped; as if it waited for me as those words echoed in my darkest parts. It isn’t your fault. And then I cried. I cried with all my will, blubbering and sobbing and shaking with such a force that the walls that kept the pain trapped inside, kept the guilt from escaping me, making sure it remained and reminded me of what I had done, came crumbling down. My tears turned into sobs, and my heart poured out onto Hunter’s shirt. I probably smeared snot all over it, but I figured he had the same plain black shirt filling his wardrobe, and I couldn’t bring myself to care at all. Spotlight: Hunter (Book #: Black Angels MC Series) by A.E. Fisher. Mallory: I spent years running from my past. Then, when my past comes knocking in the form of dark, delicious sin, I find myself caught up in a man I shouldn’t. My son’s uncle. A dangerous biker. Not to mention, an overbearing Alpha male. Hunter is everything I need to escape from, yet I find myself wanting to stay. I know I shouldn’t let myself or my son care for him, but I can’t help wondering if maybe he’s the one who can finally save me from my past. Hunter: The plan was simple. Find my nephew, bring him home, and raise him in the Black Angels like my brother would have wanted. But things never go as planned, like my nephew’s mother. My brother’s one-night stand. Mallory is spicy and sweet; one second she is mouthing off to me, and the next, she is moaning my name. The longer I’m with her, the harder she is to ignore. But she is hiding something while desperate to escape me, though I have her in my grasp. I will find out what she is hiding, and when I do, she will have nowhere left to run. About the author and where to find her: Writing books had been a big part of my life for many years; whether it was writing in secret notebooks during class, writing amateur novels or posting stories online, I surrounded myself with it. Of course, it has its up and downs, but I’ve never once thought that writing wasn’t for me. Because of that, I can share the worlds I discover in my head with the outside world, and although that might sound crazy to some, it’s fine by me. So long as I can do what I love, I’m happy. And every person who’s happy as a result of my writing is a bonus for which, I’m forever grateful for. Hunter – A. E. Fisher. What did I think of ‘Hunter’? Well since I was privy to the unedited and unpublished version I can tell you that I have followed this one from the bare bones to fleshy being it is today. Now this book is special to me (as will the rest of the series will be) because it was written by my best bitch, talking to you Fish but, I promise you I will be as honest as was with my other reviews. From Hunter’s (H) introduction it is blatantly obvious that he is a perfect example of alpha a male and Mallory (h) is the feisty babe that will bring this man to his knees. Whilst the prologue begins seemingly light hearted however, takes a turn when we are introduced to Noble and the so the drama begins… My enjoyment of this book comes from its balance of humour and softness mixed with the hardship that the characters faced; Fisher manages to make the initial meeting of Hunter and Mallory humorous for the reader and yet keep an undertone of seriousness whilst simultaneously throwing Hunter’s sexiness into the mix. The story of Mallory and Hunter is softer than perhaps the rest of the series will be however, it fits with the characters themselves and what they are both dealing with. Fisher keeps you on your toes with the interesting twists and turns that the plot takes, leaving you dying to make it to the next chapter, the next page. The relationship between Mallory and Hunter is a slow burner that if not read and understood properly may come across as coming out of nowhere however, the clues are there from the start. The relationship that develops between Hunter and Adair (h’s son) is so sweet it makes my teeth hurt even thinking about it (yack), similarly the relationships that develop between Mallory and the rest of the men aren’t forced upon us. The introduction of the other men in the MC isn’t pushed upon the reader with introductions made when necessary not all at once leaving you lost and confused as some MC writers have made the mistake of doing. Furthermore, I appreciated the deviation from the almost stereotypical hatred that is aimed at the heroine from the club whores and the entertaining relationship that Anna (a FEMALE club lawyer) has with the president of the MC, Wolf. Onto the sex! Mallory and Hunter don’t have sex early in the book but, the sexual tension is there (oh boy is it there) when they do finally have sex its fucking hot. Mallory’s innocence shines through like a light and yet her desperation enables her to be slightly more forward or maybe its Hunter’s absolute maleness and control of everything. It’s evident from the sex that Hunter is 100% an alpha male, which c’mon guys that was bloody obvious from the start. The stark difference in experience between Mallory and Hunter just makes the sex that bit steamier; there certainly wasn’t a lack of passion between these two as is sometimes the case when writing sex scenes. By a lack of passion, I mean that the author themselves isn’t into the scene thus making it less appealing to the reader however, this isn’t a problem for Fisher as her own passion shines through drawing the audience in for the ride…and what a fucking ride it is! Willard Hunter Stats. Willard Hunter was born on Thursday, March 8, 1934, in Newark, New Jersey. Hunter was 28 years old when he broke into the big leagues on April 16, 1962, with the Los Angeles Dodgers. His biographical data, year-by-year hitting stats, fielding stats, pitching stats (where applicable), career totals, uniform numbers, salary data and miscellaneous items-of-interest are presented by Baseball Almanac on this comprehensive Willard Hunter baseball stats page. "Do you have a favorite quote from or about this particular Major League Baseball player that you would like to see here? If so, please send it to us, and we'll update this page immediately." - Baseball Almanac. Willard Hunter. Willard Hunter Autograph on a Fisher Commemorative Card (#194) Willard Hunter. Willard Hunter. Willard Hunter. Willard Hunter. Willard Hunter. Willard Mitchell Hunter was a Major League Baseball player who pitched for the Los Angeles Dodgers (1962) and New York Mets (1962, 1964). When Hunter made his big league debut on April 16, 1962, he became the first graduate from The Peddie School to play in the majors! On June 20, 1962, Hunter threw his first — and only — complete game, a rain-shortened six-inning contest at the Polo Grounds, where Willard only surrendered two hits! However, both of those hits were home runs, to Hank Aaron, a 2-run shot in the third inning, and a solo shot in the sixth, giving Hunter a 3-2 loss on his resume. If you find this type of "free" data useful please consider making a donation to Baseball Almanac : a privately run / non-commercial site in need of financial assistance.