Rider Books Novels & Stories

All there was, were those books. Staring at the supreme heavenly technique books—that the greatest of cultivators had been seeking out throughout the years—, Gerald couldn’t help but sigh while shaking his head as he said, “…Though Ryder was undoubtedly a prodigy, he eventually went mad just to obtain these books… Was all that even worth it? After all, though I now have access to them, it’s not like I can leave this place! I, for one, am not daring enough to leap into the river again! All I can do is stay here till I eventually die beside this senior!”

“It’s perfect, Jenna, just perfect.” Perfect. The End. Thank you so much for embracing the series. I hope you’re enjoying the Dalgaard’s as much as I’ve enjoyed writing about them. It warms my heart to hear your thoughts, so please don’t be shy to let me know what you think! Interested to know what Lorcan Dalgaard has been up to? Find out in Book 4 – The Bloody Alpha. Available now!

"How do you even know about the great book?" Sighing, Luca moved towards the back of the cave. Leaning against the rocky wall, he frowned. "After you were infected with the poison, by all rules you should've died..." Gazing at the fire he continued. "The great book had a connection with you, the same way you do with other Dragons. Before the poison could take your life completely, the Great Book sent her last energy to you..." Snapping his gaze back to me, his face hardened. "She has chosen you to have her energy, to live on in her name and help other riders... To be the saviour of the Dragons."

He’s right, I’m absolutely mortified. The way he stands between me and them is a protective move, but surely he knows they would never hurt me. “We were only reading.” Ryder holds up his book, one with a particularly muscular, bearded man on the front. I bought that book because the cover reminded me of Phoenix. "Mine is definitely the best so far." Ranger holds up his. I instantly recognise it as one of the more explicit ones. It has bondage, doctor role pay, and lots of edging, which for some reason really appeals to me, even though it sounds like torture of the best kind.

Consisting of a quick but loving kiss and a hug. I heard them all start their bikes and I watched on the camera as they all pulled away and left. I just smiled as I finished my drink and started wondering... What the heck was I going to do today!? _________________________________________________________ (for some reason my previous note has been deleted) So, As you can see from the new title, this book is now called ''book one'' in ''The Outlaw Chronicles''. I have planned out a further two books. I can't release the titles yet as it might give away some idea of what is going to happen in the books before it (such as book two can give away what happens in book one and book three can tell yo

The wind moved through Wren Hollow like a whisper from the grave—dry, persistent, and full of secrets. It stirred the dust along the path to the cemetery, lifted the edges of black skirts, and rustled the cottonwoods that lined the ridge like sentinels. Gabrielle Moreau sat astride her horse, Raven, watching the mourners gather below. Her posture was straight, her face unreadable. But her eyes—dark, sharp, and unyielding—missed nothing.

It’s dangerous. It’s risky. That’s the point. When I’m done, I refuel, lube the chain, and talk lines with Sean. He rides clean. Controlled. Practical. We balance each other. “Eat,” Mark says, tossing us beef cut rolls. “And drink your Monsters.” We eat, while he talks strategy, and swallow nerves. “Come, the meeting is about to start.” He hurries us along to the rider’s meeting, where the referee gives out more information and rules, and also talks about problems that occurred during the preruns.

Monique's eyes matched up to Henry's as he gently curled his lips. Their eyes coming into contact so naturally with each other was just that mesmerizing. Monique's face was bright red all of a sudden and started experiencing palpitations. She quickly withdrew her hand after she got the picture book and took a deep, long breath. "The wolf and the seven little lambs."

"Needs to remember she is thirteen. Needs to—be child for a while instead of savior." "How do we do that? She will not stop. She pushes herself constantly. Like she is trying to outrun guilt. Trying to—" A motorcycle roared up the mountain road. Single bike. Loud engine. Unexpected. We moved to the window. Old instincts. Always watching. Always ready. The rider dismounted. Tall. Lean. Moved with easy confidence. Cascade MC patch on his jacket. But younger than Garrett's usual crew. Maybe early twenties. Dark hair. Tanned skin. Completely out of place in our quiet mountain refuge.

The final moment of the race was a contest between Lauren, Wanda, and another top rider. Lauren pushed herself to the front, her brows furrowed in fierce concentration. “She’s going to lose,” I whispered, smiling. Kendra looked puzzled. I knew every expression Lauren could make in every circumstance. She couldn’t hold on. No sooner had I spoken than Lauren faltered. Wanda crossed the line first, followed closely by the other rider. Lauren crashed heavily onto the ground, and the riders behind her surged forward, pushing her rank off the first page entirely.