EXCERPT REVEAL ~ Legend (The Real Series, Book 6) by Katy Evans
Maverick “the Avenger” Cage wants to rise to the top and become a legend in the ring. Though he keeps his identity well guarded, he's known on the fighting circuit as the new kid with a chip on his shoulder and a tattoo on his back that marks him as trouble. He's got a personal score to settle with the Underground's one and only Remington "Riptide" Tate.
As Mav trains, he meets a young girl—the only other new person in the town--and sparks fly. When things get heated between them, he finds out she's none other than Reese Dumas, the cousin of Remington Tate’s wife. A girl who's supposed to root against him and a girl he's supposed to stay away from.
But Maverick fights for the woman in his heart, and the monsters in his blood. The world’s eyes are on them and the victor will go down in history as the ultimate fighting champion; the ultimate LEGEND.
* LEGEND is the 6th and final installment of the REAL series, but it can also be read as standalone or after the three Remington and Brooke books (Real/Mine/Remy.)
Meet Maverick “The Avenger” Cage in Legend, the
newest stand alone in the REAL series releasing February 9th!
Four cities in two days, and more doors slammed in my face than I
can count. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and scratch another name from
Hopping on to a bus and hopping off thirty minutes later, I scan
the mix of both commercial and apartment numbers down the block, then knock on
my last door.
He’s a tall man, his hair like pepper, clad in sweats, with a
yellow timer hanging from his neck. He gives me a questioning look.
“I’m your next champion.”
He laughs, but then he must see something on my face. In my
stance. Thirst, resoluteness, guts. Maybe I’m wearing my balls in my eyes. He
falls sober and swings the door wide-open. “Come on in.”
He doesn’t ask for my name.
I guess with one look, he knows he’ll find my
name in the dictionary, right next to “determined.”
He leads me to his garage. “Where’d you train before?” he asks.
“Self-taught. I watch videos.”
He scoffs, then shrugs. “Okay, let’s see what you’ve got.”
I eye the equipment across the room. The heavy bag hangs from the
ceiling, the leather worn from other fighters before me. There’s a boxing dummy
at the corner. Speed bag. Weights. A whole private gym set up here. I drop both
my bags, then zip open my backpack and start to put on the gloves without
bothering to remove my hoodie.
“Take that off; I need to know what you’ve got. Need to see your
form,” Hennesy says.
I clench my jaw. Slowly unzip my hoodie. Take it off and glance
past my shoulder, shifting to keep my back from the coach’s view. The guy is
clearing the fighting area. Good. We can get down to business. He walks to me
when I face him.
“Give it over.” I hand him my hoodie and he tosses it aside, then
crosses his arms and looks at me. “Speedball first.”
I inhale, position myself before the speedball, and hit. Wham.
I keep on hitting, lightning fast, my fists making the bag fly.
I would have warmed up first, but I’ve been doing this for days,
and I won’t stop until I’ve got myself a coach—and not even then.
I’ve got momentum now, and I pick up speed, my arms moving back
and forth, working the speed bag until it’s moving so fast you can’t even see
I’m starting to sweat; it’s stuffy in here, but I can’t stop. I
need him to take me on. I need one yes to get me in the ring. Just one yes and
I’ll do the rest.
“Time.” Hennesy stops me. He signals to the boxing dummy and the
heavy bag. “Let’s see you pound the bag.”
I swing out and slam my knuckles on the bag, putting everything
into my fists. Thack, thump, thud.
Hennesy’s composure starts to crumble with excitement. “Holy shit,
I’m getting in to it. I’m in the zone—where it’s just me, the
leather brown bag, my fists, and nothing else but slamming the spot I’m looking
“I’ve seen enough.” He stops the bag from swinging. His eyes
glassy. “Fill this out.”
I pull off my right glove and grab a pen as he slaps a paper onto
a desk at the corner. I bend down to fill out my name and contact information
and realize, too late, that I exposed the tattoo on my back.
“You’re his boy.”
I freeze midsignature.
A second ticks by. Then two.
I slowly set the pen down and take one last look at the paper. I
might not get to fill it out after all. I turn.
His face has paled.
I wait it out for a few beats. Maybe he’s different. Maybe he can
deal with it.
He tosses my jacket at me. “Get out. Nobody wants to see you
I frown fiercely as I catch my jacket in my fist and edge forward,
equally mad now. “That’s too damn bad. ’Cause I’m fighting anyway.”
I keep my eyes on him as I pull off my left
glove, shove my arms into my hoodie, and zip up.
I walk out and the door slams behind me. I clench my jaw, and I
shove my gloves into my bag and spot the old, black gloves inside too. I push
them down into the bottom of the duffel bag and zip it up.
The season starts in a week and a half. No coach? No fight. I
can’t even get into a gym.
But I won’t let anyone or anything keep me from the ring.
I pick up a penny from the ground.
And I spot a girl in workout clothes across the street, tying her
shoelaces. She’s a step away from the gym door. I straighten, pull my hoodie
over my head, and cross the street, following after her like I belong.
Hey! I’m Katy Evans and I love family, books, life, and love. I’m married with two children and three dogs and spend my time baking, walking, writing, reading, and taking care of my family. Thank you for spending your time with me and picking up my story. I hope you had an amazing time with it, like I did. If you’d like to know more about books in progress, look me up on the Internet, I’d love to hear from you!