The Blue Moon Bikers

Morven Kenny pushed herself up and down on the swing behind the ranchhouse, her long red/gold hair in its high ponytail betraying her Irish Ancestry. The evening sunshine warmed her pale skin as she looked out over the grazing animals in the surrounding fields, it was a sight she had known all her young life. At the grand age of six, she knew nothing different, and a lovely grin spread across her pretty face when she heard her name being called.

‘Morven, come in me little colleen.’

The elderly woman on the step held out her arms, and the little girl ran into them for a hug, nestling against her ample chest.

‘Ahh, me wee girl, sure my old heart so enjoys getting a hug from you.’

Her Irish accent was thick even though she had lived in Texas for more than forty years. Planting a kiss on top of the child's head, she took her hand and led her into the formal dining room.

‘Let’s get these little hands washed.’

She led her over to the large Belfast sink that faced the huge window, framing the evening sun as it set over the horizon, and helped her onto the little step so she could reach the sink. The child giggled as her grandmother made a game of it before helping her down again. Morven ran across the kitchen and into the large, airy dining room, her ponytail bouncing as she held out her arms to the large man waiting for her. He scooped her up and placed her on the cushion they kept on the pine chair so she could reach the table independently. His huge calloused hands held her close briefly, and she wrapped her small ones around his neck,  

‘Love you, Grandpa.’

She said, simply kissing his weatherworn cheek and giggling delightedly when he rubbed his stubbly chin against her,

‘I love you more than the sun and moon, me fiery little colleen.’

He whispered in her ear as he placed her on the cushion and put a plate full of food in front of her, carefully cutting up the meat into bite-sized pieces, watching as she took her fork and speared a piece of the succulent beef.

She was a stunningly beautiful child, her wild red/gold hair and flashing emerald green eyes were a direct legacy from his Ancestors. They had emigrated to the USA from County Cork in Eire at the beginning of the potato famine in 1845 and settled in Fort Worth, Texas. A long ago, Grandfather had bought the land from the locals for a pittance and established the first ranch on it. He had then proceeded to import the beautiful, prize-winning highland cattle the family were now famous for, the creatures had somehow thrived in the Texas sunshine, their thick, long, red coats not causing them any problems. Each ancestor had built onto the existing ranch, adding the modern facilities as they were invented. It was a huge sprawling homestead with ten bedrooms, five bathrooms, a huge dining room/kitchen, lounge area, games room, gym, TV/Cinema room, it even had an indoor pool as well as an outdoor pool/patio area. Morven’s grandparents had lived there all their married lives, and Michael owned it; he was a direct descendant of the original Kenny, who had taken his chance to make his mark in the USA. Now the ranch provided work for almost a thousand people and turned a profit of many millions each year, they had diversified into breeding their prize-winning race horses as well as their amazing highland cattle. They produced many more prize-winning products, cheese, yoghurts, cream, etc., from their cows, and their beef was sought after around the world. There were other things the family were involved in, but most of that was kept away from the little girl. A billion-dollar industry needs lots of diversity, whether it is legal or not                            Morven, though, had not been born into this billion dollar luxury; her mother, Alanna, had met and subsequently run away with a member of the Fort Worth Black Knight Bikers while out at their club in the centre of town with her friends. The Biker Club was always packed; it was the most popular club in the whole area because it was full of gorgeous, muscular Bikers. Women thronged the bar and the dance floor, dressed in their skimpy, revealing clothes, and flirting with the men who stood on the periphery, barely glancing at them but already having chosen their bedmates for the night.                                                        Alanna had stood out amongst all the beautiful women their King could choose from, her flame coloured hair and charcoal grey eyes set her apart from the abundance of Blondes and Brunettes, bringing her to the notice of Xavier, the Dark Knight's Leader.                                                                                                          He was stunningly handsome, six feet six of raw muscular power with deep golden blonde hair and emerald eyes; he never slept alone. Women found him irresistible, even though he treated them like a commodity. He used them to satisfy his needs and then abandoned them without a second thought; no amount of pleading or pouting got them a second chance.  Until he came up against the fiery little redhead, who was the heiress to a billion-dollar fortune, she was confident and self-assured, completely different from the women who normally frequented his Club. He was used to women throwing themselves at him; he did not have to try very hard to get what he wanted, and when Xavier set eyes on the beautiful Alanna, he wanted her very much.                                                                                                                                          Alanna, though, did not want him, ignoring all his attempted attention and choosing to stay with her friends no matter what he tried to do. This made her all the more alluring to Xavier, he had been screwing beautiful women since he was fourteen and none of them had ever refused him. He accepted the challenge willingly, chasing her relentlessly. Every time she came into the club, she was upgraded to VIP and given whatever she wanted, and she refused all of it, staying with her friends in the ordinary part of the club. No matter what he offered her, it made him more and more angry and frustrated.