Motorcycle Romance Books Novels & Stories

🏍️ Author’s Note My dear readers, Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for taking this ride with me. When I first imagined Sable’s story, I knew I wanted to write more than a motorcycle club romance. I wanted to write about healing. About what happens after survival. About learning that love doesn’t have to hurt to be real, and that strength isn’t measured by how much pain you can endure, but by how willing you are to believe you deserve something better.

" And he went away leaving me shocked. To be continued…. From tomorrow, there's a new journey for Eric and Scarlett, tune in to see the tale of heartbreak, possessiveness, and obsession. A way to their Ruthless Romance. Till the next time Purva Narang (Your author)

Sarah. His daughter’s bright, innocent smile. Sarah’s haunted, weary eyes. Both of them, so precious, so vulnerable, slipping further from his reach with every agonizing beat of his engine. The thought was a raw ache in his chest, a burning urgency that fueled his speed. He pushed his bike harder, ignoring the chill that cut through his leather vest.

I leave and dont bother to look back i needed to leave and not look back there is no way he felt the same way about me. _______________________________________________________________________________ Its been 2 weeks sine i packed my thing at the Andonite's house and the only contact i had with any of them was when i checked on Ellie. She was doing alot better she told me she didnt like Ricky's new girlfriend her names was Katie. I didnt have the heart to tell here i didnt care to know anything about him or her. He is going to physical therapy and seems to be recovering well he has been even going to the race shop. From what Ellie has told me the car he wrecks was junk and they have been wo

He never gave her money to glam up, but he wanted her to glam up. When I got to the bus stop, I brought out my phone to order for a uber. I always sat at the bus stop to order a ride. While I wait for my ride, I enjoyed the beautiful busy view of my small town. Greentown was name after the beautiful gardens that was almost everywhere in the town.

I closed my fingers around it. The bike started with the authority of something that had been properly loved. I had half-expected hesitation it had been months since it ran consistently but Jax had done something to the ignition timing, or the fuel system, or whatever particular alchemy good mechanics applied to machines that had given up. It caught on the second kick and settled into a rhythm that was steady and clean and unmistakably alive. I sat on it for a moment in the lot before moving. Rafe was watching from the garage doorway, coffee in hand, pretending to be interested in the middle distance.

****** As they approached the stable, Penelope noticed how the horses snorted and neighed as they got close to them. She remembered that wolves had a natural affinity towards horses and wondered if any rogue pack would attack them. However, they were reassured by Rusell that they had picked the best horses that could outrun any pack. Penelope chose a chestnut horse, it had a beautiful coat and was fast. Liam, on the other hand, chose a black stallion that was majestic and strong. They were given saddles and the necessary equipment. Liam checked the saddle and tightened the girth strap before mounting the horse. Penelope followed suit, and soon they were galloping out of the Packhouse.

I am as exciting and predictable as a loaf of sliced white bread. Anyway, back to my story. The traffic started moving, and off he went, leaving behind the lingering scent of tobacco. At work, I had trouble concentrating, and spent most of the day creating racy vignettes in my head with us as the feature characters. Let's be honest; I have a very vivid imagination. The closest I've been to a hot steamy encounter is courtesy of the pages of my endless supply of paperback romance novels. I'm not the kind of girl that attracts hot, sexy men. In fact, I've been called an ice queen by more than one guy. But when I'm in the middle of one of my books, I am sensual, daring, sarcastically humorous, a

“You have given me a gift beyond measure, Mia. Not only your blood, but your unwavering trust and unconditional love. I am forever grateful for your presence in my immortal life.” I leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, tasting the remnants of my blood. “And I am grateful for you, Jonathan. You’ve shown me a world of passion and devotion that I never thought possible. Drinking my blood is just another way for us to explore the depths of our connection.” As our lips parted, we sat there, locked in a moment of shared understanding and love.

I sipped the drink the taste was amazing, sweet with a hint of alcohol just like he had said. I took my attention back to Aimee and Diego who sat whispering between each other. I leaned closer in an attempt to join in but it wasn’t like I could hear their whispers over the music that was playing. “What are you two whispering about” I asked giving up on ears dropping. “Nada, now who is coming to dance with me?” Aimee let out downing her drink in one go. “Slow down, FUCK Lorenzo is going to fucking kill me” Diego scolded her.