Emblem Harley Hyper Novels & Stories

Yup, that's the shit my brother got me wrapped up in. I wheeled the Kawasaki to my spot and killed the stand. She was already drawing attention like the beauty she is. Her name is Sissy. The only good thing about this whole mess. Matte black with a single red stripe running the length of the body. Kawasaki Ninja H2R. Supercharged. 310 horsepower. Built for tracks they hadn't invented yet. I checked the tires. The chain tension. The brake fluid. Partly because the ritual mattered, partly because I had rebuilt this bike from components with my own hands over eight months. Checking meant I was present.

"This is a warning left in a language we do not speak yet, but one we recognize as language despite not knowing the words." Jarek moved deeper into the ruins on a parallel path, and I heard his sharp intake of breath a moment before he called me to him, and when I arrived he was holding something aloft in the dim, fractured light that fell through the canopy, his hands careful with it in the way of someone handling something that has weight beyond its physical weight. The banner was torn but intact, its fabric having survived through some combination of quality and protection that I did not yet understand, and the emblem on it was visible in full - a circle enclosing a wolf with outstretched

“This is gonna be good.” Tiffany mounted a sleek red Sportster, revving it aggressively. Hazel swung onto her customized black Harley, the one Jax had assigned her. The engines roared in unison. Tiffany’s red Sportster revved aggressively. Dagger stood between them, flag in hand. “Clean race. First to the marker and back. No bullshit.” Tiffany smirked. “Try to keep up, mechanic.” The flag dropped.

Straw Hat Pack Dry Ridge, Kentucky Maria ‘Bee’ Shiver pulled her Harley-Davidson Sportster Sportster Seventy-two to an overlook. Taking her helmet off, her long black hair spilled over her back. Dark amber eyes looked over the valley below. “Damn, it is sure pretty here,” Bee said, stretching her arms over her head and turning to BC.

The cut was black leather in color with the white stitched patches which included the gang's name itself in full view as it draped along the chair. The emblem of a vicious howling black wolf with white eyes and snarling teeth bordered around a bright white moon with the name HOWLER MC. written in stitch form around the visual. The bearded man glanced at his cut and continued to make his way toward the brightly lit bathroom as the sun had burst through the small window above the shower and illuminated the entire room causing him to wince from the view once he stepped inside while his eyes adjusted to his newly lit surroundings.

The Roscoe Reagan Originals emblem was chrome. Evie knelt and was looking at the tribal design. Buried in it were the words DEVIL’S SAINTS and TEXAS RENEGADES. She turned and looked at Tank’s bike and saw the small black on black words around the emblem. “Papi…” She said as the first tears fell. “You think I’m going to let one of my girls ride without a Renegade?” he asked as two of his men handed her men Texas Renegades cuts. “Down here you two ride as Renegades.”

He was absolutely and heavenly handsome with his long-sleeved black polo with blue stripes on its long sleeves and on its hem as well as his leather jeans—probably the werewolves’ formal uniforms. Just like the two of them, Cyrill was also wearing a belt, but a different one. He was wearing a gleaming metallic blue belt and a blue moonflower brooch. The edges of the crescent-shaped brooch were adorned in silver and seemed to shimmer brighter than the rose brooches. “I guess it’s obvious that black, blue, and silver are our emblem colors. The moonflower is our sigil,” Cyrill declared while fixing his loosened belt. Rozelyn can’t believe what she's witnessing. She feels like she’s attending a

"You have been cooped up inside this concrete compound for days now. I thought you might really need some fresh air to clear your head." He led me out through the back door and into the bright sunlight of the yard, walking toward the long line of shiny motorcycles parked against the wall. His bike was completely unmistakable—it was a massive, heavy black Harley-Davidson motorcycle with bright chrome details that caught the sunlight and a large Iron Reapers skull painted right onto the fuel tank. He reached over, grabbed a black helmet from the handlebars, and handed it to me. Then, he stepped closer and helped me strap it tightly under my chin, his large, tattooed fingers moving with careful

The last stop is to Acura where my dad gets two Acura MDX for Alice and Matt's parents, one black and one blue to drive back to the pack house. After we got done we all met up at the diner for lunch. My dad started telling everyone about the new pack vehicle’s we ordered 6 pack suvs that are bulletproof. There are H-2 Hummers, all blacked out with 6.2L V8. It gets the job done for protecting ourselves when needed; they also have strong bumpers and run flats tires.

Meanwhile, the sound of cars honking could suddenly be heard outside Rossi Manor. Closely after that, everyone could see luxury cars being driven inside one after another. Each of these luxury cars had a small flag in front of it. The flags all had a unique logo on them. At that moment, everyone present was stunned speechless. “The bald eagle represents the Kiffer family,” someone said. “The white sheep represents the Fantin family,” the person added. “The red volcano represents the Damarse family,” someone added. *** “What is going on?” Someone asked. Suddenly, everyone felt lost.