Motorcycle Gang Books Novels & Stories

“Motorcycles: A complete modern history.” I open the cover, and the spine cracks. It’s brand new. I wonder if Ben somehow smuggled this into the Archives. It’s not the type of book that’s highly sought out by scholars. But I laugh all the same, diving into it. The faint scent of citrus and cinnamon floats through the air, as if his scent is still attached to the cover.

He’s holding a folder with papers inside. “Ethan races motorcycles illegally,” he says. “He’s part of a gang that calls themselves ‘The Silver Bullets’. He’s never lost a race, but some anonymous forums suggest that he uses unsavory tactics to win, such as ramming his opponents. I’m not sure what exactly you can do with that, but here.” Kayne hands me the folder. I open the folder and smile at the information inside. “I think it’s time to dust off my motorcycle,” I say with a dark sneer.

Instead of sitting there all tense listening to their meeting, I wandered over to the area near the door. There was a tall shelf filled with framed photos of them, like some sort of documentation of the Garuda Steel gang. They looked so proud in every shot, posing, hanging out, riding big motorcycles that, I was pretty sure, cost a fortune. Not everyone could afford bikes like those. They were tall and muscular, the kind of guys who really looked like they belonged on those rides. I swallowed hard, realizing this gang was way different from what I’d always imagined.

“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.

“But to the outside world, this entire operation—and the Alpha himself—runs under a different title. Welcome to the Boulderback MC.” I tilted my head, the acronym sounding foreign. “MC?” “Motorcycle club," she nodded, a proud gleam in her eye. “A biker gang.” A gang. I swallowed hard, a sudden wave of panic hitting me. God, what kind of world have I stumbled into? Did I sign up for way more than my human mind can handle?

His rugged face was completely dark with a wave of pure, unadulterated rage that made every single prospect in the yard step back out of his way. “Someone in this camp leaked our official route document,” he snarled out fiercely, his deep, booming voice easily carrying across the entire wide clearing of the campground. “The secret paper that contains the exact locations of all our club safe houses, our hidden drug drop points, and our private legal protection contacts. The bitter Devils gang knew exactly where our bikes were stopping last night. They actually sent two highway scouts to watch us. If my eyes hadn't noticed the dark tail following my motorcycle on the road, we would have ridden

She ducked into the shadows of an alleyway, her breath hitching. ​A fleet of motorcycles tore around the corner, black chrome gleaming under the sparse light. They weren't just riders; they were a legion. At the head of the pack was a massive black chopper, its engine sounding like a caged beast. ​The riders pulled into a gated yard behind a derelict warehouse. Elena, driven by a cocktail of fear and morbid curiosity, crept closer. She peered through a gap in the rusted corrugated fence. ​The men dismounted. They wore heavy leather cuts with a terrifying insignia on the back: a skeletal vulture gripping a bloody gear. The Iron Vultures. The city's most notorious outlaw motorcycle gang.

The rider slammed on the brakes, the bike sliding sideways and coming to a stop just inches from my legs. He ripped his helmet off. He had dark hair, a jagged scar near his eyebrow, and a look of pure annoyance. His leather vest had a patch: IRON GRAVE MC. "You trying to die, Princess?" he barked. "Or did you just get lost on the way to the castle?" I was shaking so hard I could barely speak. In the distance, I saw the black SUVs. Edmund’s men. "Please," I choked out, grabbing his arm. "I need to get out of here. They’re going to catch me."

"Do you know the names of the gangs?" "No. I never learned them." He smacked his palm to his forehead and sighed. "Sunny?" "Yes, boss?" She sat up straight. "Wanna tell her the names?" "Sure." She nodded. "Snakes and Lions." "Thank you. Now Laura, can you guess which one we are?" "Wait you're all in a gang?" I blurted. All eyes fell on me. Then everyone started giggling, except Bran whose eyes were dead serious and pleading for me to get this right.

And more specifically, asking about Cracker and Grace… Over the past week, men on black unmarked motorcycles had been spotted around the club and at my house. Driving up and down the road that led to Cracker’s and Steel’s place. We’d been trying to find out what MC, but they were smart and covered up their logo. Which really wasn’t good news.