Harley Nicknames Novels & Stories

Nonetheless, I've found it best not to fight it, and I stop to watch as Lauren rides her thunderbolt in front of me. She steps off of it and falls in line beside me as we walk, well, I walked, and she floated. "You found Harley, I see?" "Thanks to you, yes, I did." "How is she, Nick?" Though she is transparent, I can still see the concern in her features. "Alive, no thanks to me." "It isn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done to stop Harley; she's stubborn; it runs in the family." "I've noticed, but she also hates me, Lauren."

"I just got it yesterday. Held up a man at knife point. He saw my knife and practically begged me to take his watch, his money, and his wedding ring. Isn't that right, Mike?" "Yes, boss," Mike said flatly, his tone betraying neither approval nor disapproval, only a weary familiarity with Jack's stories. "Well, that watch makes you look like some type of Mista," Harley said, a teasing lilt creeping into her voice. "Now you can be a Mista J." "Mista J." Jack smiled, testing the name on his tongue like it was already legend, savoring the sound of it as though trying it on for size. "Yeah, I think I like that."

I think out loud and the women all look at me like I’ve grown three heads and horns. “Usually the members give them their names. For example, Mav got his road name as Outlaw because he didn’t give a fuck for the law and was a nomad for a few years. Harry, my brother, got his name Wild Child because he is just that a Wild Child. Hound, well he got his because he was like a dog in heat.” Harmony says and I hum nodding my head. “How did Lucky get his?” I ask and Harmony smiles at me.

Ugh! Just such little contact already has me pressed to jump out of my own skin. But like hell if he’ll ever know that for sure. I park a hand over my hip, not slowing down my pace, “I know you’ve been gone for so long, but that name doesn’t stick anymore.” “Yeah,” He bites back easily, leaning in to whisper, “Heard ‘Harlot’ suits you so much better.” My eyes roll. If anything, that’s the nickname I hate the most, yet it’s the one that’s stuck the longest.

Addie replied. "Well, not all bikers are bad. I should know, my brother is one. I also dated one for a while until I got bored with him." Paris explained. "Is your brother in the biker club that's here tonight?" Addie asked. "Yes, he is. His name is Ian, and he's one of their Sargent At Arms. His road name is Joker." Paris replied. "Road name?" Addie asked. "Yeah. It's like their nickname the club gives them." Paris explained.

He asked. “Sure. I don’t mind it.” She replied. The guy sat with her and started a conversation with her. She learned that his name was Damon. He was part of a biker gang called Lobo's. He had a low-rider cruiser made by Harley Davidson. When he learned that she rode an H2R Ninja, he was in awe. It’s rare when you find a girl, gorgeous and sweet, loving fast bikes. She enjoyed that evening having an innocent, but simple conversation with Damon. He didn’t know it, but he helped her forget about her problems for a moment. It was one of the best nights she endured since the second she left home.

"So these are yers? That's pretty cool. Does your job have an oven like this?" "We have a makeshift one with a UV lighting system we put together ourselves. It does the job nicely, but when we have a special project that we absolutely can't fuck up, we bring it here," Tony said as he motioned to the floor. "And yes, these are the panels to my '93 Harley Ironhead Sportster. Her name's Harley. She got a bit scuffed up when I backed up into a damn Honda. That's ok, though. I've been itchin' for a reason to do a redesign."

"Wait. I've told you my nicknames. What are yours?" Since I've shared my nicknames, both flattering and not-so-flattering I guess it was only fair he told me his in return. A chuckle escaped him and I hate to admit that it was starting to grow on me. His chuckle, not the person behind it to be clear! I would never ever admit to liking a hockey player. "Well, you already guessed the one people use mostly. That would be: asshole. But those who know me and consider me to be their friend call me Nath or Niel. Whichever part of my name sticks with them. And I don't mind either way."

So they made do with the tight quarters. Harper tipped his head back and downed half the bottle of water in his hand. Judging by the athletic shorts, sweat and odor he'd come from the gym. He grinned at Evan and said, "Hey, Ukie." "Hey," Evan mumbled. Back in the beginning Harper's insistence on giving everyone nicknames had irritated Evan. It had seemed like calling him Ukie, short for Ukrainian, was some sort of insult that went over his head. It had taken Evan almost a year to realize that this was Harper's way of claiming people. He gave them nicknames. They weren't always flattering and people rarely liked them, but that was Harper's way. But Evan knew this was where he fit. It was mayb

Mercy asks. She looks at Mercy, and smiles, “He's my dad.” Knight takes the ring, “So I take it you are the hunted, not the hunter?” his smile is small but there. “We need to get you back to the clubhouse, I'm going to give River a call, we are going to need everything you know about this guy.” “It isn't a guy,” She says, and my dread increases when she continues, “her name is Harley, she's twenty seven, five foot three, dark blue eyes, brown hair, small chest.”