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490 pages, Kindle Edition
Published November 12, 2025
Riot's built like a brawl - broad chest, veined forearms, tattoos peeking past the edges of his rolled sleeves. He looks like the devil fucked a street fighter and dumped the result on a bike.
"You gonna bolt that thing on the bike?" he asks.
"Damn Right I am"
He smirks, "It's ugly"
"So are you"
You want romance, Stray? I'll survive tomorrow just so I can keep pissing you off for the rest of your life.
No one comes to The Gauntlet to watch a clean race. They come to watch machines burn, bones break, and men die screaming. They come to collect on bets, to drink, to fight, and to shove their fists in the air and roar for violence like it’s the only language they understand.ruthless leadership that’s corrupt AF (I love me a good dystopian, post-apocalyptic story),
Tonight, I’m the show.
You ever wake up and just know it’s going to be a shit day?a “burn the world for them” kind of romance (complete with an unhinged, semi-psychotic, killer, vengeance-taking couple we can’t help but fall in love with),
Like, the kind of day where you stub your toe, spill coffee on your only clean shirt, and maybe get sentenced to death by an underground crime syndicate for a murder you didn’t commit?
Yeah. That kind of day... Some people wake up to coffee and pancakes. But not me. No, of course I wake up bound, bleeding, and pissed the fuck off in some fucking grimy ass warehouse.
He’s giving me the one part of him still untouched. Inviting me to mark him with something no one can take, and hell, that’s heavier than anything we’ve said...a chaotic crew of ride or die baddies,
It settles like something I didn’t realize I needed, something solid in a world where nothing ever stays...
“You proposing mid-apocalypse now?”
“Not yet... Gotta get you across that finish line first.”
“And then what?”
His gaze drags up to mine. "Then I burn the world down and build us one with your name on every fucking wall."
Asshole notices every breath and every goddamn twitch. I swear he catalogues it like intel for war.& all of this is wrapped up in a dilapidated world hellbent on rooting for carnage & continued chaos.
And maybe, for the first time in my life, I don’t hate that.
But I still want him to know I’m not his burden. I’m not his responsibility. He's not here to save me, and he sure as hell isn’t responsible for keeping everyone alive.
We survive this together. Or we don’t.
But I’m not going to let him bleed himself dry trying to play executioner and savior in one.
Even if a small, dark part of me finds comfort in the way he looks at me like I’m the only thing in this nightmare worth protecting.
And then his eyes find me. That’s when everything in me breaks and rebuilds in one breath. He’s bleeding. Bruised. Breathing like he fought an army. But those eyes… They’re locked on me like nothing else matters. Like I’m the reason he’s still breathing. I see it, all of it. The bodies he left behind. The blood that isn’t his. The chaos he walked through just to get to me. He didn’t just come for me. He carved a path of vengeance through hell. And he’s not leaving without me.The trial trope that comes from the race is thrilling & reads like an action movie. I love how well-planned everything is. Nothing happens by accident & Nova makes sure the audience is never lost as she builds a gritty, futuristic world right before our very eyes. Our FMC Sienna is such a badass, which makes her the perfect match for Riot, who will burn the world down for her & those he loves, or die trying.
Even if it kills him.
She doesn’t fucking belong here.Ugh, I just loved this book so much! I never wanted to put the book down & I never wanted to leave these characters. It’s easy to fall in love with all of them, the whole crew, because Nova does such a great job delivering a found family we all want to be a part of. Can’t recommend this enough.
She’s not built for this world, not hardened by it, not yet, and yet she walks like she is, like she belongs. Every man in this pit is debating whether to kill her, claim her, or use her until there’s nothing left, and this bitch doesn’t give a fuck about any of it.
She’s a stray.
Alone, untouched and unbroken.
A wild thing that hasn’t been caught yet, but that won’t last long...
Little Stray.
Yeah. It fucking suits her.
Because without me?
She won’t last the night.
And for some reason, that pisses me the fuck off.
Not because I’m being tough but because he is.This was my first Nova Kane book & OMG I am such a fan! She writes with such color.
Riot drops to his knees in front of me. Hands shaking, covered in blood. His or someone else’s, I don’t ask...
“You scared the shit out of me, you know,” I say, voice low.
He doesn’t look up.
I nudge his chin with my boot. “You always gonna be this dramatic when I bleed?”
He finally glances at me, his eyes dark, heavy. “Only when it’s because someone tried to kill you.”
“Damn.” I smirk, leaning back on my palms. “You gonna start crying next?”
He doesn’t laugh, doesn’t rise to the bait, just finishes the wrap, then reaches up and cradles my face in his bloodstained hand.
“I meant what I said,” he murmurs. “They touch you, I’ll kill them.”
“And if they kill you, then what? I’m supposed to avenge your dramatic ass while bleeding out on the finish line?”
“You’d look hot doing it,” he says.
I roll my eyes... underneath all that cocky deflection, I know the truth. He would die for me. Wants to die for me, if it means I live. And that? That’s what terrifies me.
Because I don’t want a martyr.
I want him. Whole. Breathing.
Here.
“You’re not dying for me, Carter,” I say. “I’m not worth that.”
He leans in. His breath brushes my lips. “Too fucking late.”
My pulse kicks.
And then he kisses me.
It’s not violent. Not rough. Just… real.
And that wrench? Still clattering across the floor where she fucking launched it.Like, every place she describes is so vivid, even though this is a post-civilization’s-collapse-type world & things are falling apart, it’s easy to picture it in my mind. I’m not familiar with motorcycles & their specifics, but I could clearly picture the modifications the crew made to Riot’s bike because she wrote about it so clearly. And when she describes a character, she uses emotional words so that we don’t just see the person, we understand their whole vibe. It’s super immersive & captivating.
That’s my feisty bitch.
I should be focused on the threat... but all I can think is fuck, the way she fights back, the way she takes no shit and throws harder than half the men here? ...
She doesn’t need saving.
She never has.
But fuck if it doesn’t turn me on every time she reminds the world why...
Fuck, I love her like this.
Like hellfire in a leather jacket. Like war wrapped in soft skin and wicked grins. She means every word, and it punches through the rage enough to steady my hands. Barely.
I’m used to that look. I’ve seen it on more faces than I can count—most of them cruel, careless, like I was something to claim, not choose.And the music? Yaasss! As a person who uses music to communicate & has music constantly playing in my mind every waking minute, the songs she lists at the beginning of every chapter fit so perfectly. I literally listened to them after each chapter & could easily envision them soundtracking certain scenes, which made reading this book feel cinematic. I absolutely loved this whole experience. So yeah, I will definitely be picking up more Nova Kane books in the future, probably her other motorcycle crew books first.
But Riot?
He doesn’t look at me like I’m his to take.
He looks at me like I’m his to earn.
And that? That’s the part that fucks me up.
Because there’s still want in his eyes. Still heat, still hunger but underneath it, there’s something steadier. Solid. Respect. The kind that’s foreign to girls like me.
So.
I fucked Riot Carter.
Let me rephrase that.
Riot Carter fucked me against a wall so hard I’m pretty sure the drywall filed for emotional damages. And judging by the bruises on my hips, the bite on my neck, and the way I still can’t fully straighten my legs, he meant every goddamn second of it.
Not that I’m complaining.
Well… okay, I’m complaining a little.