Tarnished Angels Motorcycle Club Novels & Stories

She was too innocent for him. He laughed out at his words. Innocent for Ronald? She was too innocent for him, Greg, as well! He knew he wasn't a saint but he would never hurt her. Pure angels like her were not meant to be hurt but treated as the delicate beings that they were. He would surely make her his and his alone. And no man would stand in his way. ❤❤❤

They said as they pushed her forward. “Prove you’re one of us.” She made the mistake of locking eyes with Mason. His face wasn’t bright with excitement like everyone else. It was dark and angry. His oldest brother went on his birthday hunt and never came back. They called it a hunting accident. Not that he got caught by their prey. No. He stepped in the way of a stray bullet. She gulped at the memory. Either one of them was going to die or both of them would. She lifted the gun aiming the sights directly between the boy’s eyes.

Chapter 4: The Glorious Lifestyle Of Steel Cowboys Room 42, Kings Canyon Motel, Roadside Motel, Unknown City, South Dakota.... Revving engines filled the surrounding air as "Brick" and his gang lined the parking lot and prepared to take off down the long and winding road in continuation of their journey and the party that seemed to never end whenever they were together. There were about nine of them hitting the road all together and each and everyone of them carried the blood of a beast inside their veins as they fuled up on cocain and alcohol while tearing through town after town reveling in the new found freedom their lifestyle had afforded them. Each member of The Howlers M.C wore a patch

Just like how the angel Michael was the battle angel, destroying the demons while being good and pure. Maybe I'll call him Michael, it'll be my own secret name for him. I doubt we would meet again; just like Mabel said, he probably ended up in M&T's by accident, but I knew it'd take a while for his memory to leave my mind. If only... Nah, there's no way.

“Yes, my point exactly. Listen Alessandro, I'm not asking you to forget about your work. All I'm saying is for you to let off some steam. Just for a night. It wouldn't hurt anyone if he took a day off from work and enjoyed yourself a bit.” That was how I went to that party. He had provided me with a girl, who according to him was experienced. I made it a duty for myself and all the males in my pack never to fuck a girl of our pack. Anyone could have a good time but not with an unmated girl from the pack. Since then, we have respected that rule. I stood at the corner of the club while waiting patiently for the one who Carlos paid to please me to arrive. It was already twenty fucking minutes s

"We make you disappear. Completely. And while you're gone, you work on remembering. Everything you can about that night, about your family, about anything your father might have told you." "And then?" "Then we destroy everyone who's been using you as a pawn." His eyes glinted dangerously. "Starting with Javin Klein." Despite everything, despite the fear, the confusion, the way my world had just shattered, I felt something else stirring inside me. Anger. For years, I'd been kept in the dark. Drugged. Controlled. Told I was crazy for having nightmares, for being afraid. But maybe I'd been right to be scared. Maybe some part of me had always known the truth.

I struggled to breathe, every movement sending fresh waves of pain through my battered body. When I finally got up, I wandered to the mess they'd left behind. The coffee table was littered with bottles, cigarette butts, and crumpled bills. Amidst all the mess, my gaze had caught on a slick black card lying. It was dusted with white powder-the stuff used to cut lines. I picked it up, turning it over in my hands. In bold letters across the middle was a name-Valaro-along with a website.

She was his heart and soul, and once she was gone, he went off the rails, eventually ending up in prison. My uncle and Crow went to Portland as planned, but it seemed they had vastly different ideas of what a motorcycle club should look like. Crow stayed with the Dogs of Fire, and over time, became the club’s national president, and my older brother Hatch currently serves under him. For the most part, the Dogs have always been a clean club, consisting of mostly business owners, and ex-military types. They had very few local troubles and a good relationship with law enforcement.

He clocked the man’s short, dark hair, tattooed forearms, and – oh, joy of all joys – the Road Devils motorcycle club patch on his leather cut. Claire’s neighbor is a goddamn MC member. Awesome. To be totally fair, though, if Griff had to go and deal with an MC – motorcycle club – guy, he’d choose one from The Road Devils in a heartbeat. The current club President, Wolf Connor, had spent the past year or so busting his ass to extract the MC from shady activities and from what Griff had heard, Connor had succeeded. He’d severed all ties with Kirk Jensen, Denver’s shittiest, sleaziest piece of sleazy shit, a guy who was into drugs, prostitution, sex trafficking, rape and murder. It had been a

With pride and elegance, I swerved my hips past the boys, while my four friends followed from each side. Tracy, Eretria, Romena, and Sasha. Two of them were hot blonde chicks in their mid-twenties, while the other two were brunettes. We are the Angel Squad and we rule the United Clan Training School. No one dared crosses us, unless they are ready to face hell on earth. My life is fucking good and I'm not ready to leave it.