Emblem Harley Hyper Novels & Stories

"Ok. Call the healer." Maisy nodded and ran to get him. I gave my attention back to the boy admiring his dressing. His style implied he was from the site and I could tell he came from a wealthy family. My mind went to the various means the boy could be of use to me. I was still deep in thought when I discovered the emblem engraved to his collar. "Impossible!" I muttered. The emblem was a printed picture depicting a wolf with bloodstains on its mouth. That emblem could only belong to a "Clarke!

Only the known could traverse the road, to reach the packhouse. Evelyn was halfway through the path, a few bends down the road branches out towards different destinations. Evelyn took the road that leads on to a cliff, which was a short cut to her destination when her attention was grabbed by a procession below. The shock made her brake hard, skidding to the edge of the path. The sudden stop threw around a lot of dust, bits of rocks went scattering down the small cliff. She rushed out of the car to look down on the spectacle below. It was a motorcade of five cars, two of which were Lincoln Town car, followed by McLaren P1. There were also a few horses following the procession. It was not the

Harlow I climbed behind Cyrus on his bike and caught sight of the MC insignia on the back of his leather vest. It said "Bone Hills Howlers" around the figure of a wolf howling in front of a full moon. "I like your vest," I said. "It's called a cut," he replied as he revved the engine. "Helmet," he reminded me. "Safety first," I joked as I slid his helmet on. I leaned forward and grasped onto either side of his firm torso with my hands, breathing in a mixture of scents. Cologne and engine oil. Oddly comforting.

The radiator cover was the same purple I’d painted it when I was twelve. There was an old doll made out of denim, with red yarn for hair and wearing a black Hells Angels T-shirt. One of my father’s old girlfriends had made her for me long ago. Predictably, I’d named her Harley.