Biker Books Novels & Stories

“You okay?” “Motorcycle club?” I asked. He nodded. “Like Hell’s Angels?” Booker smirked. “In theory.” “Crap.” I glanced up at him. “I really should go.” “Go where, darlin’? There’s nothing around here for over a mile in any direction.” “Clarify something for me. Are you a club because you have really nice bikes and like to hang out and drink beer on occasion, or are you like outlaws or something?”

Some were so afraid to be killed that they’d rather kill everyone in the same room, including themselves. “Martil.” She called me desperately, her hand on the killer’s arms as she tried to prevent him from choking her with the gun. He snickered, watching the heartbreak moment. “I didn’t know you like bitches.” I sucked my teeth, waiting for him to make one mistake. “Who sent y’all?” I asked. The killer laughed. “You are always a wanted man. No one has to send people to kill you.” He wasn’t completely wrong. I only owned a biker gang yet it seemed like I owned a whole mafia world. Sometimes, a biker gang could be more dangerous than a Mafia’s.

And the first encounter was unforgettable. There's a bike parked in front of the mansion and I got on it. I was playing on the bike, suddenly someone pushed me off of the bike. I cried out and when I looked back, I first met Artemis. He's a twenty-four years old guy with a nastiest mind, deadly handsome face and figure and hot temper. From the beginning, he couldn't tolerate me at all. He wasn't happy that his father married my mother. But he wasn't like that toward my sister.

The BlackReign patch on his leather vest hanging over the chair should’ve told me enough. I glance around the room, my mind catching up fast. The rough walls, the faint sound of metal clanging, the smell of oil and smoke…yeah. This isn’t just a random biker hideout. I’m in BlackReign territory. My pulse quickens. Reign Conner…the rogue alpha biker. The ruthless bastard everyone talks about everywhere you go…I never thought I'd ever meet a man like him. The same man rumored to be Black Justice…he arrogantly shows up when packs oppress rogues, kills, and disappears. Some call him a savior. Others, a monster. Depends on which side you’re on.

"Hardly unarmed, My Dragon." "Time to go home, My Beastly Biker." She smirked up at him, then turning, she walked to the other side of the car to get in. Drake watched, hypnotized, at the sway of her hips. *********************************************************************************************** This is not the end of this story. I have at least one more chapter to do. If you would like to see something in particular, drop me a note on here, a DM, or a note on my profile.

He explained. "Really?" Sam asked. "Yeah, I do. Don't you?" He asked. "I've never thought about it. But I figured bikers didn't do kids." Sam replied. "Bikers are like anyone else. Some do and some don't. Our club isn't into the illegal shit so I'm good with kids." Smokey explained. "So, give it some thought." Sam nodded. "Guess who's coming to the clubhouse this weekend?" Smokey asked. "Snake?" Sam asked.

Mason replies. " You know the lives of bikers. Dangerous missions, alcohol and women. That's our lives. It was my life before I met you. I don't need to pretend to be something I wasn't. I used to fuck,alot. Different women every time. Some who just wanted to be fucked by a biker, others who were trying to get into a relationship. I don't want to sugarcoat things for you, Hera. What you see is what you get." I assure her. She stares at me with an unreadable expression. I can't decipher what's going through her mind. Her thoughts.

The boys froze, their smirks faltering as the sound drew closer, louder, until headlights cut through the dark. I blinked against the brightness, my heart hammering. A group of bikers rolled into the street, leather and metal glinting under the moon. The roar of engines silenced only when boots hit the ground, a dozen shadows dismounting with lethal grace. The boys around me cursed, panicked, but it was too late. The bikers moved fast, too fast. Snarls filled the air, inhuman and feral, and before my terrified eyes, they tore into the boys with a violence that made me stumble back. Fists cracked against bone. Teeth bared. They weren’t just fighting—they were biting. Wolves in human skin unle

The two drivers opened their doors and got out, walking towards me as well. “We don’t want any trouble, we are just lackeys in everything.” They held up their hands in surrender, holding still as I stalked past them to the van. I swung open the side door, its hinges protesting loudly. There was nothing inside except for road block equipment, vests, and someone’s half eaten sandwich. “Son of a bitch!” I slammed the door home and turned to the two wolves. I knew they were Black Haven, the stench of licorice was strong on them. The two bikers had joined the others, more than likely feeling safety in numbers. They were slight and about a good half foot or more shorter than me, making them as mor

Even over the music, the tension is crackling, electric, a live wire ready to snap. And my wolf; traitorous, relentless, thrashes inside me, demanding I close the distance. Demanding I taste him, even as my brain screams no. ~~ Then it happens. A hand snakes around my waist, yanking me off balance. I whip around, ready to break fingers, and come face-to-face with a drunken human biker. His breath stinks of beer and bad teeth, his grin wide and leering. “Didn’t know they let pretty little things like you hang with the dogs,” he slurs, lips grazing my ear. “How about you come play with me instead?”