Books About Bikers Novels & Stories

"When I was fourteen, I started riding with the older guys in the club. Terrified. Shaking. But I acted like I owned the place." "You were a delinquent. That's different." "I was confident. Confidence is confidence." Duke caught her shoulders. "Emma. Look at me." She turned. His daughter. Dark-eyed and stubborn and trying so hard not to show how frightened she was. "You are the toughest kid I know," Duke said. "You've grown up with bikers, handled a blended family, dealt with things most fourteen-year-olds never face. High school is nothing compared to what you've already survived."

My hands trembled in my lap and I clenched them into fists, nails digging into my palms until they burned. The car rolled to a stop in front of massive wrought-iron gates. Beyond them stood a sprawling mansion, dark and imposing against the evening sky. Bikers moved around the courtyard, some repairing bikes, others sparring shirtless with knives glinting in the last rays of sunlight. Wolves padded between them, their eyes reflecting the headlights like liquid gold. My breath caught in my throat. This wasn’t just some biker gang. It was something else. Something ancient and terrifying. And why did they have wolves as....pets?

Ace explained. "Ok." Lainey agreed. She wanted no part of that. Some of her favorite romance books to read were Biker Romances. She had no idea how real or made up they were. But normally people got their ideas from somewhere, right? They walked through the main room which was oddly clean and spacious. She figured for a bunch of guys it would be dirty and beer cans or bottles everywhere. A lot of the stories she read were like that. But then she remembered, they were all retired military.

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

THE BIKER KING CALLS Despite how dangerous the atmosphere of the room felt, dinner was… quiet. Arthur stretched subtly in his seat, looking over at the plates set neatly on the long wooden table stretching through the center of the room. A single overhead light glinted off the rim of his glass as he sipped on his wine. Slowly, he looked around at the plain walls and the men standing at the dark corners of the room. A few had their arms folded, others rested their hands behind their backs. Every time they moved, their leather jackets would lift, revealing guns tucked into waistbands and knives strapped to their thighs. None of them spoke. None moved unless Victor told them to.

He also knew he was looking at the future King of the Blue Moon Bikers. Maverick learned quickly; he had to. Sean tried his best to scupper every chance he was given, and at first, the younger boy fell for his schemes, wanting to be the ‘Prince’s’ friend. The teenager soon discovered he was being set up to fail and look stupid in the eyes of William, the first time those kind eyes turned to him in disappointment was the last. He stopped trying to be Sean’s friend and, more importantly, he stopped covering for his mistakes. His gut instincts told him the King’s brother would soon make a fatal mistake as he took more and more risks as he tried to impress his friends and look like a future King

For half a heartbeat, my grip tightened too much, breath catching in my throat. Not today. I forced the thought away and leaned in harder, trusting instinct over fear. The bike responded beautifully, hugging the curve like it was part of me. Fourth lap, chaos. It happened too fast for fear to form properly. A rider ahead lost control. One moment he was accelerating, the next his bike skidded sideways, sparks screaming as metal scraped asphalt. Time fractured. I saw the opening closing too quickly, the angle wrong, the inevitable collision rushing toward me. I swerved.

Athena Chaos is supposed to be loud, but this was quiet. It didn't explode; it just sort of seeped into the clearing like a bad smell. The bikes rolled in with a low, oily growl. No chrome, no insignias just matte-black frames and riders who looked like they’d forgotten how to blink. The morning mist didn't stand a chance; the heat from their engines shredded it into nothing. Inside me, my wolf wasn't just bristling; she was pacing a tight, frantic circle, her claws snagging on my psyche. These guys weren't here to talk. They were here to see who bled first.

"It is everywhere. Simultaneous raids across seventeen states. Every major independent club. All being arrested for weapons trafficking, narcotics distribution, money laundering." Subject Seven moved to the window. "This is not coincidence. This is coordinated elimination. The boy is using federal law enforcement to dismantle every organization that could provide resistance." "Why bikers specifically?" Rebecca demanded. "Why target clubs?" "Because you are organized. Mobile. Independent of government oversight. You have communication networks that bypass standard surveillance. You have resources and loyalty structures that make you dangerous to centralized control." I pulled up my own phone.

My ribs screamed with every breath—courtesy of Derek's boots three nights ago in that motel parking lot outside Tucson. "You cannot run forever, Jenna," he had said, his voice cold as winter. "I will find you again." But I had run. Again. A rumble split the air. Deep. Mechanical. The kind that made your bones vibrate. I lifted my head and saw them. Six motorcycles rolling down Main Street like they owned it. Leather. Chrome. The devil's head patch on their backs—red eyes, fangs bared. Devil's Reign MC. My blood turned to ice.