Biker Gang Books Novels & Stories

Even from this distance, I could see the fear creeping across her face. People walked by without saying a word. Some looked away. Others crossed the street entirely. Nobody wanted trouble. Not when motorcycles gangsters were involved. That was the problem. To this town, a biker was simply a biker. Nobody cared what patch he wore. Nobody cared which club he belonged to. Bishop’s men had spent years terrorizing Greystone, and somehow every crime they committed stained all of us equally. I pulled the truck to the curb and climbed out. The sound of my boots against the pavement made one of them glance over his shoulder.

"From this moment on, it's just you and me. We'll figure out the rest, together." BLAIR'S POV The side entrance led to a part of the garage I'd never seen before—a hidden bay where a black motorcycle waited, sleek and dangerous-looking under the lights. "You kept this from me?" I asked, staring at the bike. "Just comes with the mafia package," Dimitri said with a small smile, handing me a helmet. “We'll be able to get by faster this way.” I took the helmet with shaky hands, reality suddenly crashing down. We were really doing this. Really running away from my mother, from Valor, from the only home I'd known for the past few months.

VALERIE The air reeked of gasoline and burnt rubber, just the way I liked it. Not because I enjoyed it—God, no—but because it reminded me of them. The Xander MC. The ruthless, arrogant group of leather-clad kings of the road who thought they were untouchable. They owned every mile they rode on, every bar they swaggered into, every whispered fear in this town. And today, they were all gathered here.

First was usually his fist, then other things I don't even like to name. Turning eighteen didn't change a damn thing. He still hits me and makes me keep my mouth shut because I know a secret he once told me when he was all drunk. I spent the entire morning underneath a Harley Davidson. I've been trying to figure out why the transmission kept grinding third gear. My hair was all greasy and the garage stank of gas, sweat, and everything mechanical. Dmitri, almost the only worker left in Night Wolves' garage, my father's biker club, walked up to me.

I wasn’t about to hide it, not from him. “I was driving,” I began. “The bikers came out of nowhere. Surrounded us, opening fire. The car held, but I knew if they kept at it, eventually they’d find a weak point. I was ready to ram through them when—" I broke off, shaking my head. “When Mex calmly pulled a laptop from his bag. Michael did the same. They started typing, Daniel. Like it was rehearsed. And suddenly… every single one of those bastards fell.” Daniel blinked at me. Once...Twice. Then he laughed—a short, humourless sound. “You’re telling me my two seven-year-olds took down a gang of armed bikers… with laptops?”

Read the author's note first 1)The Biker's Obsession (Gangster, Ceo and maid romance) 2) A crush I can't date ( Have you all wondered this! Imagine two writers on GoodNovel fall in love! Imagine a writer and a reader like you fall in love ? Then you need to add this book to your library to find out more.

“As much as I enjoy watching you all roll around in the dirt, I have something important to announce.” “Here we go,” Kara muttered. “The annual Biker Pack Tournament,” Felix continued, pausing for effect, “is officially around the corner.” A wave of excitement rolled through the field. Warriors began murmuring, some cheering outright. Even a few of the older fighters exchanged eager grins. Felix’s smirk widened. “I take it some of you still remember how it works?” “Do we look dead to you?” someone yelled from the back. He ignored the comment, continuing, “All packs from the region will be joining this year. Four in total. That means more competition, more glory—”

Right now, I wanted all the names of the girls and boys living in that town. I needed both genders. From my research, most of the bikers were low-key gay men who wouldn’t come out of the closet but would touch young boys inappropriately. We live in a society where boys are not taken seriously when they talk about being abused or touched in the wrong places. As usual, the parents of these kids would never speak up. A biker was as deadly as a mafia mob. They were crazy gang members who wore vests and rode noisy bikes around town with no authorities to keep them in check. They’d do anything they wanted—sleep with different women, young and old, and men, young and old. They caused noise pollutio

“Cruz… is that…?” Cruz’s fading grin widened. “Hellborn Kings.” The roar of engines grew deafening. Their own gang poured in, guns blazing, cutting through the rival bikers. Blade laughed darkly. “Looks like the cavalry finally decided to show.” Nova clung tighter to Cruz as chaos exploded around them, whispering over and over, “Hold on, please… just hold on…” The gunfire cracked like thunder. Nova’s ears rang, but all she could hear was Cruz’s ragged breathing.

His chiseled jawline was carefully sculpted, and his deep brown spiky hair spread across his face, dancing in the wind and slightly hiding his emerald eyes. Each of them wore similar clothing;. Typical characteristics of bikers. They were in jeans, boots, and a vest that displayed their club color. [WILD HOGS]. They also wore a red neckerchief, the ends clasped with a sliding knot ornament. Gold chains hung on their necks, with earrings attached to their ears. In total, they were the word Perfect itself.