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Biker – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:51:17 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Biker – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Diesel’s Last Chance – Steel Sinners MC Read Online Loni Ree http://www.ilovenovels.com/diesels-last-chance-steel-sinners-mc-read-online-loni-ree Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:51:17 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/diesels-last-chance-steel-sinners-mc-read-online-loni-ree Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, MC Authors: Loni Ree Advertisement

Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)

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Steel Sinners MC
What happens in Vegas...
At Elysium, visitors can find whatever guilty pleasure they seek, as long as they don’t cross the line. Because this casino is run by the Steel Sinners Motorcycle Club, a morally-gray found family of alpha men who are soft only for the women who love them.
This insta-love MC series will take you on a ride you’ll never forget, but don’t worry. The HEA is always guaranteed. Follow Pope as he guides his crew of rough and dirty men through a Vegas nightlife filled with danger, surprises, and love. These OTT protective men will stop at nothing to claim what’s theirs, even if it means calling in favors from Pope’s cousins in the Steel Rebels and Steel Order MCs, and maybe even from Pope’s estranged twin brother who leads their Reno rivals, the Steel Aces.
This is a multi-author series set in Las Vegas and the shared Steel Sinners MC world. Each book can be read as a standalone

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHAPTER ONE

DIESEL

The air in The Boneyard Garage is thick as gravy, a swirling mix of grease hanging heavy in the humidity, the scorched scent of coffee from this morning, and the sharp, bitter bite of steel filings drifting around like invisible grit. Every breath I drag in, it hits me right in the chest. The fumes, the clang of metal on metal. This place is real in a way the Strip out there never is, all shimmering heat and showmanship, everything riding on luck and flash. Here, reality is measured in torque and horsepower. No smoke and mirrors.

It’s a typical Thursday in the garage. The sun’s barely come up, and I’m elbow-deep in the guts of a vintage Mustang, chrome and polish warping my face into a funhouse version of reality as I lean in closer. My hair's tied up and already escaping, strands sticking out in every direction, and my knuckles are black with grease that isn’t coming off any time soon. It’ll take three showers and half a gallon of industrial soap to even make a dent in it. But that’s the job. There’s nothing fast or fancy about it, not in here. Just sweat, stripped bolts, and that slow, patient hunt for what makes this car more than a pretty shell.

It is quiet, mostly. The sound of Benny’s classic rock station hums in the background, competing with the rhythmic clack-clack-clack of Jax trying to find where he parked his torque wrench for the fourth time this hour. I don't look up when Jax curses under his breath. This is my sanctuary. Here, every problem has a mechanical solution. You turn the bolt, the pressure changes, the engine sings. People are significantly more complicated.

My phone starts vibrating on the workbench, dancing a frantic little jig next to a pile of gaskets. I don't look at it. I'm in the zone, that sweet spot where the rest of the world just falls away into the background noise of the shop.

It buzzes again. And again. The sound is an intrusion, a jagged edge cutting through the smooth rhythm of my work. I wipe my hands on a rag that has seen better decades and squint at the screen through the smudge of a fingerprint. It’s Alana. My little sister doesn’t call three times in a row unless someone is dying or she’s found a vintage leather jacket she absolutely needs me to bankroll.

"Hey, kid," I say, pressing the phone to my ear with a clean-ish shoulder while I try to keep a stubborn bolt in place. "If this is about that bike you want, the answer is still no. You’re too fast for your own good as it is."

"Diesel." Her voice is shrill and sharp. It isn't the playful tone of a sister looking for a favor or the sassy retort I usually expect. It’s the sound of someone who is holding back a scream, or perhaps already letting one out in slow motion.

I drop the wrench. It hits the concrete floor with a heavy, final thud that echoes through the rafters. Jax stops his pacing, and even Benny looks up from the ‘Vette. They know that tone. It’s the sound that turns a mechanic back into a Sinner.

"What happened?" I ask, my voice dropping into the low, dangerous register that usually makes people start backing toward the nearest exit. I’m already moving toward the sink, ignoring the grease as I grab a handful of industrial grit soap. "Are you hurt? Where are you?"

"I’m fine. I’m at the apartment, but it’s Serenity," Alana says, her breath hitching in a way that makes my chest tighten. "It’s bad, Diesel. There’s a guy from her accounting class. He’s been following her, and today he emailed a picture of her sleeping. Through the window. He was outside our place last night."

The soap bubbles in my hands turn a murky, dark gray, but all I can see is Serenity’s face. Not the way I usually try to picture her—smiling, safe, tucked away in the 'off-limits' corner of my brain—but vulnerable. Terrified. I think of her eyes, that specific shade of blue that always reminded me of the sky right before a desert storm, and I feel a cold, hard knot of rage settle behind my ribs.

"Did you call the police?" I ask, though I already know the answer. Campus security is a joke, and the LAPD doesn't move for a stalker until there’s a body to outline in chalk. My little sister knows how the world works; she grew up in the shadow of the chrome skull.

"They said they can't do anything because he hasn't threatened her yet," Alana spits the words out like they're poison. "He’s lurking, Diesel. She’s terrified to leave the room. She’s sitting on the floor right now, and she won’t even look at her phone because he keeps calling from blocked numbers. I don't know what to do."

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Drifter – Satan’s Fury MC – Little Rock Read Online L. Wilder http://www.ilovenovels.com/drifter-satans-fury-mc-little-rock-read-online-l-wilder Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:51:15 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/drifter-satans-fury-mc-little-rock-read-online-l-wilder Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Insta-Love, MC Authors: L. Wilder Advertisement

Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >84

Some men are born drifters. Others are just waiting to find their way home.
Wall Street Journal and USA Today Best Seller L. Wilder brings you a new addition to the Satan’s Fury MC- Little Rock series that will have you rooting for new beginnings.
Loss is tough.
Some learn to live with the grief and move on.
I couldn’t.
There were too many memories.
It hurt too much, so I packed up and left.
I spent years trying to outrun my ghosts
And then, a threat drew me back in.
It wasn’t my fight.
Hell, it wasn’t even my chapter.
I was only in Little Rock to deliver a warning.
I never intended to stay.
And I certainly never intended to meet her.
She was beautiful and soft in all the ways that can undo a man.
And she unraveled me without even trying.
I had no business getting tied up with her, but I couldn’t stay away.
She reminded me what it was like to have something worth living for.
Now, I had to make a choice.
Stay lost or find my way home

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

CHARACTER LIST:

Preacher- (Hudson) President

Sons- Beckett and Memphis

Tabitha- Ol’ Lady

Sergei, Viktor, and Nikolai- her sons

Creed- Vice President (Jameson)

Devin

Devin’s kids- Austin and Chrissy

Seven- (Holt) Sergeant of Arms

Tallie-ol’ lady

Ford- son

Blade- club doctor

Grim- (Lawson) Enforcer

Jenna is his ol’ lady

Luna is Jenna’s daughter

Skid- son

Sheppard- Club Hacker

Ghost- (Sutton) Brother

Casey- Ol’ lady

Toby- Casey’s son

Memphis- (Weston) Brother

Antonia- ol’ lady

Rusty- Brother

Goose- (Luke) Brother

Presley- ol’ lady

Dagger- Brother

Garrison-his son

Duggar- Prospect

Jonesy- Prospect

Skid- (Thatcher)

Grim’s son

Ol’ Lady- Laken

Baylor is Laken’s daughter and Bunny B

Smitty- Prospect

Lil Nix- Fallen Prospect

Zeke- New Prospect

PROLOGUE

It’s funny how quick a decent day can go to complete shit.

I’d been out riding, minding my own business and taking in the sunshine, and it came time to fill up the tank. I pulled into the gas station and parked next to the pump like I’d done a million times, and as soon as I took off my helmet, I opened my saddle bag for my wallet.

I reached in without thinking, and my knuckles brushed up against the small bear I kept tucked inside. I don’t know why I kept it. I should’ve tossed it years ago, but I never could seem to part with the damn thing.

I picked it up and ran the pad of my thumb along its back. Its fur wasn’t as soft as it used to be. It wasn’t quite as white either. And its tiny shirt was now nothing more than worn patches.

It might’ve been old and tattered, but it still brought the same sting, taking me back to a time I’d tried to put behind me.

I could almost feel their presence in the air--could almost hear her singing to him, the sound of her voice low and soft.

‘A bushel and a peck, and a hug around the neck.’

God, how I missed that sound, along with his giggling in the background. He was always laughing and smiling and tangling his little fingers in my beard.

‘A hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap.’

They filled my dark world with light and joy. That was something I thought I would never truly find or even want, but they made me long for it.

‘A barrel and a heap, and I’m talking in my sleep about you.’

And now, it was gone.

My throat tightened as the silence settled around me.

Somewhere in the distance, there were cars driving by and people carrying on their lives. They were reminders that the world kept turning, but some wounds don’t move with it.

They stay, and they burrow deep, never letting go.

It had been five years, long enough for the ache to dull, but it hadn’t. I doubted it ever would. And I was okay with that. I didn’t want to forget.

I wanted to remember. I wanted to remember every damn second.

I had it all back then.

A club full of brothers who’d give their lives to protect mine. A woman who looked at me like I was something better than I could’ve ever thought of being, and a kid who had a smile that had a way of breaking my heart and putting it back together again all at the same time.

I had a family. A home. Something to look forward to at the end of a long day. I closed my fist around the toy, pressing it into my hand as the memory cut through me all over again.

One blink.

That’s all it took.

One second, I had it all, and the next, it was ripped from me so fast that there was nothing left but smoke, blood, and the kind of gut-wrenching heartache that never goes away. Not completely.

I made them pay for what they did.

God help me, I made them pay.

One by one, I hunted them down like the animals they were. I could still hear the sounds of cracking bones, the wet choke of their final breaths, and the way my rage burned hot enough to blur out the grief.

At least, for a little while.

Killing them should’ve been enough.

It wasn’t.

It didn’t bring the laughter back. It didn’t warm the empty side of the bed or fill the house with her scent. And it sure as hell didn’t bring back his little fingers wrapped around mine.

I opened my hand again and stared down at the tiny bear he once held. I ran my fingers over it again, slower this time, chasing a memory that was just out of reach. I shook my head as the old anger rose deep within, dark and familiar, curling low in my gut. It had lived there for almost five years. Most days, I was able to keep it locked down.

I buried it under miles of asphalt and the steady rumble of my bike.

But tonight it resurfaced in full force, leaving me wondering what the hell to do with it. Damn. The cycle never seemed to end.

But who knows. Maybe tomorrow will be different.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll finally be able to take in a breath without feeling the ache of guilt rattling in my chest. Only time would tell.

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Rev (Redline Kings MC #9) Read Online Fiona Davenport http://www.ilovenovels.com/rev-redline-kings-mc-9-read-online-fiona-davenport Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:50:56 +0000 https://www.ilovenovels.com/rev-redline-kings-mc-9-read-online-fiona-davenport Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, Insta-Love, Mafia, MC Authors: Fiona Davenport Series: Redline Kings MC Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 42128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)

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Soren “Rev” Halvorsen never lost control. Then a terrified blonde crashed into his bike on a dark road, and the Redline Kings captain decided she was his.
After barely escaping a serial killer, Delaney Crosswell felt like the world was unsafe. Except for when she was in Rev’s arms. She knew that danger was a part of the motorcycle club, but the sexy biker quickly proved he’d burn the world down before letting anything touch her

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

DELANEY

Human hair was a fascinating historical textile, even if most people found it creepy. Earlier in my studies, it had taken some adjustment to get past being a little disturbed about working with a stranger's hair. Especially knowing they’d passed away. But now, I saw it as a historical material like silk or leather. And I was in awe of how artists had woven it into intricate designs, like the wreath on the antique Victorian mourning brooch I was restoring.

Adjusting the lamp, I was careful to keep my hands steady as I used compressed air to clean the microscopic debris from a crevice in the back. The piece needed to be properly cleaned before it could be restored, and I had to be careful not to introduce moisture that could seep past the gold and destroy the hair and foil-backed gems used as decoration. The reflective metal behind the jewels enhanced their brilliance but made cleaning more complicated.

The brooch was so delicate that I couldn’t afford to make a mistake. Nothing else existed for me until I finally finished the cleaning. Leaning back, I smiled, filled with the satisfaction of coaxing something broken back toward beauty.

I had been so lucky to get a coveted spot in the accelerated art conservation track. In large part because it offered the opportunity as a restoration apprentice with the museum and university preservation partnership. The lab was quite prestigious, so the competition was fierce.

I was thrilled I’d been chosen since this was where I felt most alive—bringing the past back to life, one careful stroke at a time.

My phone lit up on the corner of the worktable, the soft vibration pulling a smile from me as soon as I saw the name on the notification. I peeled off one glove and swiped the screen.

Mom

Still at the lab? It’s getting late. Dad is being grumpy about his deadline and asked me to remind you that even brilliant restorers need food.

I huffed a quiet laugh, my thumbs flying over the keyboard.

Me

Almost done cleaning the mourning brooch. I’m packing up soon.

Mom

That’s my girl. We’re so proud of you, honey.

I grinned at my screen.

Me

Thanks. Tell Dad I’ll be equally proud when he kicks his deadline’s butt.

Having a sci-fi author for a father had been interesting growing up. His schedule varied from being available to spend lots of time with me to disappearing into his office for weeks on end when he had a book due to his editor. Luckily, my mom’s hours at the library were very regular.

I got my love of books from them at an early age, which helped tremendously with my studies. And helped me snag my scholarship.

But it was the time I’d spent with the stacks of old books my mom let me “fix” as a kid that had really helped me discover my passion for preservation. Dad spinning wild stories about ancient artifacts and lost civilizations hadn’t hurt, either.

While other girls were out at parties, I was happiest with a pair of tweezers and something fragile that needed my patience. Even now, social events and academic mixers drained me, but the conservation lab was my happy place.

My mom sent me a laughing emoji, and I replied with a heart before setting the phone down again and reaching for my gloves. I’d just slipped the left one back on when the quiet scrape of a shoe behind me made me jump.

I spun on my stool, my pulse quickening.

Dr. Magnus Kinghorn stood just inside the doorway, his hands clasped behind his back, watching me with an unnerving stillness that people said came from being so brilliant. He wore his usual tailored jacket, silver threading through his dark hair, every inch the respected art historian.

I really hoped he hadn’t seen me on my phone. As the lead of the entire partnership between the museum and my university, the fate of my career was literally in his hands.

“Dr. Kinghorn.” I pressed a hand to my chest with a breathless laugh. “You startled me. I didn’t hear you come down.”

“My apologies, Delaney. I thought you might still be here.” He moved closer, stopping beside the worktable. His gaze dropped to the mourning brooch under the lamp. “How is our little Victorian lady progressing?”

I relaxed a fraction, happy to talk about the work and not me being on my cell phone. “The crack is almost ready for repair now. One more round of cleaning should do it.”

Using my gloved hand, I turned the piece so he could see better.

“Hmm.” He leaned in, studying the brooch with clinical appreciation. “Yes, I concur.”

I took a deep, satisfied breath. “Thank you.”

“Preservation is really just deciding what deserves to survive,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Some things should be kept exactly as they are before the world ruins them.”

I nodded, charmed despite the odd phrasing. “That’s beautiful. And exactly why I love this work. Giving broken things another chance.”

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Rip (Kiss of Death MC #14) Read Online Marteeka Karland http://www.ilovenovels.com/rip-kiss-of-death-mc-14-read-online-marteeka-karland Wed, 20 May 2026 17:51:52 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/rip-kiss-of-death-mc-14-read-online-marteeka-karland Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Insta-Love, MC Authors: Marteeka Karland Series: Kiss of Death MC Series by Marteeka Karland
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Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >69

She found her strength. I’ll makes sure no one takes it again.

Jade — I ran from a man who broke me, only to land in the arms of a biker who could destroy what little I have left. Rip is an alpha protector with a dangerous edge I can’t seem to resist. He sees too much, wants too much, and makes me crave things I swore I’d never risk again. He gives me the courage to believe in myself. When my past refuses to let me go, I know I can surrender or stand and fight. If my ex thinks he can take everything from me again, he’s about to learn exactly how wrong he is.

Rip — The first time I see Jade, she’s barely holding herself together, a trauma survivor trying to outrun a nightmare who won’t stay buried. She’s still fragile enough I know better than to push my way into her life, even when every instinct tells me to pull her close and never let her go. I don’t expect her to see me as anything more than a safe place. Whether I claim her or not, my MC brothers will lay down their lives for her. And when the smoke clears and the blood is washed away, Jade will know she was always meant to be mine. Forever.

Warning: adult themes including past thoughts of suicide, physical and psychological abuse, and child abuse, which may trigger some readers. Protective ex-con hero, HEA, as always, no cheating, no cliffhangers

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

Jade

The soft, warm lighting in the small dining room did little to reassure me. I stared at my hands resting on the scarred wooden table, watching them tremble against my will. Three weeks at Haven, and my body still hadn’t gotten the message that I was safe now. Safe. What a strange word to apply to homelessness, to sitting in a communal room, surrounded by women who couldn’t meet my eyes because we all recognized the shame in each other’s faces.

I pulled down my sleeve to cover the faint, yellowing bruise on my wrist. My ribs still throbbed with a dull persistent ache that no amount of ibuprofen could completely relieve. The pain was almost comforting -- a reminder that I hadn’t imagined it all, that I wasn’t crazy. My fingers brushed against my cheekbone, the swelling finally gone but the discoloration still visible beneath the concealer I’d carefully applied that morning.

A little boy, maybe five or six, darted past me chasing after his sister, both of them laughing. Their mother called after them in a hushed voice. All the women here spoke quietly most of the time, as if normal volume might shatter whatever fragile peace we’d found. Or too afraid our respite would end in violence once again. I watched them without trying to seem like I was watching. Their mother had dark circles under her eyes, but she smiled when she caught them, tickled them until they squealed.

I looked away. There was an intimacy to their bond that felt invasive to witness, like I was trespassing on something precious. I didn’t belong here, among these women who’d fled with children, with purpose. What did I have? A business degree I’d never used, a dried-up marketing career, and a suitcase only half full of clothes I’d grabbed while Eric was at work. No kids. No friends left. Just bruises and tremors and the growing realization that I had nowhere else to go.

“Jade? Do you have a moment?”

I looked up to see Ada approaching, a clipboard tucked under her arm and a sympathetic smile on her face. Since I’d come here, I’d learned that every woman from that club Mia’s new man belonged to volunteered at this place. The men guarded Haven but never made the residents feel smothered. In fact, I only saw them occasionally. Everyone here cared. Probably too much sometimes. I saw the people who came through here. Everyone had a sob story and most of them were horrific. By comparison, I’d had it pretty easy.

“Of course,” I said, straightening my posture automatically.

Ada slid into the chair opposite me and placed the clipboard on the table between us. “Your thirty-day evaluation period ends this weekend,” she said, her voice soft. “I have your extension paperwork here. I hate that we have to do shit like this, but it gets us money for supplies.” She smiled.

My heart stuttered. I hadn’t realized how terrified I was of her saying anything else until the relief flooded through me. “Yes,” I said too quickly, then bit my lip. “I mean, if that’s OK. I’m still working on… figuring things out.” I had to force myself not to wring my hands. I didn’t used to be like this. I didn’t want to be like this now.

Ada pushed the clipboard toward me. “That’s what we’re here for. I just need your signature.”

I picked up the pen, my fingers trembling. I gripped it tighter, trying to control the shake as I signed my name. Ada watched without commenting on my obvious anxiety. She was good at that -- giving people dignity even when they were falling apart.

“Thank you,” she said, taking back the clipboard. “The extension is for another sixty days. After that, we’ll reassess.”

I tried to smile but couldn’t quite commit. I knew how pathetic I looked by not getting back in the game of life, but the thought of trying to explain the abrupt departure from my previous job, of interviewing with visible bruises, of having to be around strange men who might remind me of Eric, could send me into a panic attack.

“Jade, honey? You OK?”

I glanced up at Ada when she spoke. Short answer? No. I wasn’t OK. Better answer? “Fine,” I said. “Just tired.”

Her eyes softened with understanding that made me want to crawl under the table. “There’s a resume workshop on Thursday. No pressure, but it might help to interact with others. And group therapy tomorrow at four is open to everyone.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “There’s no rush, you know. I’m checking boxes because it’s required. You take as much time as you need. We call this place Haven for a reason.”

When she left, I let my shoulders slump, exhausted by the brief interaction. Across the room, a woman about my age was showing her daughter how to braid string into a friendship bracelet. Another was helping her son with what looked like math homework. I’d wanted that once. A family. To be all domesticated and stuff.

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Blade’s Return (Saint’s Outlaws MC – Cherokee NC #1) Read Online Jordan Marie http://www.ilovenovels.com/blades-return-saints-outlaws-mc-cherokee-nc-1-read-online-jordan-marie-2 Wed, 13 May 2026 18:54:31 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/blades-return-saints-outlaws-mc-cherokee-nc-1-read-online-jordan-marie-2 Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Suspense Authors: Jordan Marie Series: Saint's Outlaws MC - Cherokee NC Series by Jordan Marie
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Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >46

Falling in love is rarely easy.

For Blade and Olivia, it’s deadly.

BLADE

My brother and I have a plan.

Step One: I graduate law school and pass the bar.

Step Two: I help our club The Saints Outlaws get the casino we wanted off the ground.

Step Three: I'd come back as the face of the casino but reclaim my seat as Vice President of the club.

It seemed simple and it should have been.

But I never planned on Olivia or the fact that our love would blow everything all to hell.

OLIVIA

I knew it was wrong. My brother will never let me be happy.

But Blake made me want to try.

Besides, it'd only be me who paid the price for loving Blade.

At least that’s what I thought, but I was so wrong

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1 BLADE

Six Years Ago

“You have everything covered, stop worrying,” Bear laughs.

“Man, this is an important meeting. I don’t want to fuck it up,” I mutter as we walk toward the Convention Center in Gatlinburg, Tennessee.

Bear surprises me by stopping before we begin walking up the concrete steps leading to the entrance. He claps his large, beefy hand on my shoulder, giving me a squeeze. “There’s a lot in this fucked-up world that I worry about, Blade, but I’ve never worried about you. You are going to ace this meeting and we’re going to achieve every damn thing we want. I have no doubts at all, and you shouldn’t either.”

I stare at my brother. I can see the confidence he has in me. He’s fifteen years older than I am and he’s basically been the only father figure in my life. His approval means everything to me. “Thank you, Bear. I never want to disappoint you.”

He grins and pounds me on the back. “You never will.”

We start walking into the building. I allow myself to concentrate on him, trying to calm my nerves at the same time. Bear and I don’t really look like brothers. He took after our mother, who was a proud daughter of a Cherokee chief. My hair may be the color of my mother’s, and I have her eyes, but I mostly look like our father. That’s hard to swallow because he was nothing but a piece of shit. Bear’s hair is long, falling near the middle of his back. He is battle-hardened from his years in the Saints Outlaws Motorcycle Club. He moved from the mother chapter in Boston, coming back home to Cherokee, North Carolina to take over care of me after our mother died.

Right now, it would be even harder to tell Bear and I are related. He’s wearing his faded jeans, a Metallica tee, with his hair hanging free and untamed, and his club cut proudly worn—regardless of the purpose we’re here today. On the other hand, I’m in a suit and tie. My hair is neatly trimmed, and my beard is gone. Fuck, I don’t even recognize myself when I look in the mirror. I don’t like it, but everything hinges on getting the approval for this casino.

I’ll do whatever I need to do to ensure success. Our people need this. Right now, the town is a dying tourist trap, forcing proud people to play dress up—showing off their Native American heritage—and pose for pictures. This casino will put a stop to that, while injecting some much-needed capital. With that, we can make sure housing, as well as educational and professional opportunities are offered to our people and their children—like it should have been all along.

This is important to both of us but even if it wasn’t a dream I shared with my brother, I’d still do it. I owe Bear everything. He put me through school, uprooted his life, and then allowed me to prove myself as a member of his club. I worked hard so that I could rule it beside my brother, yet only the immediate club recognizes me as the Vice President. It wasn’t a position I was handed, I earned it, taking down any challenge for the office that I received.

Now, I’m hiding who I am. I don’t want any of these bigwigs thinking I’m part of the club. I’ve taken steps constantly to hide that fact—I’ve had to. We didn’t want any bias from the assholes on the board. They didn’t need to find a reason to deny our right to put in the casino. After we get the approval and have the right men in place, they’re all in for a shock.

It wouldn’t be so bad, but there’s a club trying to move into our area that Bear has been fighting. The Feral Kings MC are slime. We’ve been fighting them for a while. We’ve lost a couple of members in the war, but we’ve taken some of their ranked members, too. We’ll win, but right now is not a good time to wage an all-out war. Bear says we have to make the casino our priority. He’s right, but the quicker we can take the Feral Kings and their president, Eyeball, out—the better. He’s a sick, twisted asshole who is quite literally a psychopath. If any man deserves to die, it’s him.

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Cage (Redline Kings MC #7) Read Online Fiona Davenport http://www.ilovenovels.com/cage-redline-kings-mc-7-read-online-fiona-davenport Wed, 13 May 2026 18:52:35 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/cage-redline-kings-mc-7-read-online-fiona-davenport Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Erotic, Insta-Love, MC Authors: Fiona Davenport Series: Redline Kings MC Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 209(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)

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When Hadley Rivers got injured at an underground race, Thayer “Cage” Duvall stepped in to treat her. One look at the scar hidden in her hair told the club’s doctor it was no childhood accident—someone had tried to erase who Hadley really was. Now he was determined to protect the beautiful politician’s daughter whether she wanted it or not.

Hadley had always felt trapped in her perfect life, until the intense biker who patched her up made her feel alive for the first time. But falling for Cage meant risking everything…especially when her family’s dark secret came out

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

HADLEY

Pressed close to the concrete barrier at Brake Point Run, the roar was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Engines screamed in the distance as drivers warmed up, the rumble vibrating straight through the soles of my sneakers and into my bones. I fiddled with the bulky ear protection Jana had shoved into my hands when I joined her down here.

“You’re gonna wear a hole in that thing if you keep twisting it like that,” Jana called over the noise. She was already suited up to race, looking every bit the badass I secretly wished I could be. “Here, let me fix it before you strangle yourself.”

I laughed as she stepped in and adjusted the straps with practiced fingers. “I swear I’m not usually this helpless. It’s just more chaotic than I expected, in the best way. Is it always like this? The place feels like one giant adrenaline shot.”

Jana snorted, giving the strap one last tug before stepping back. “Always, but it’s even better behind the wheel. Driving for Redline Precision is a thrill, but I love it when I get the chance to drive in an underground race.”

“Because you’re hell on wheels, sweetheart.” The big, tattooed biker she was married to wrapped his arm around Jana’s waist and brushed a kiss against her cheek before dipping his chin in my direction.

“Thanks for letting me come tonight, Nitro.”

“Just stick close,” he warned.

Jana nodded. “This side of racing isn’t what you’re used to. Most of the rules have been thrown out the window, so it’s pure speed and balls-to-the-wall chaos.”

I looked around us with wide eyes. “Yeah, I noticed.”

She tilted her head and studied me with a teasing glint in her eye. “You still good? Or are you about to bolt back to your fancy life and pretend you never met me?”

“No way.” I shook my head so fast my ponytail whipped my shoulder. “Are you kidding? This is incredible.”

“That’s my girl.” She poked my arm lightly. “You’re hooked, aren’t you?”

“Completely,” I admitted, my cheeks heating even as I grinned back at her. I leaned a little closer to the barrier, my eyes widening again as another driver revved his engine hard enough to make the ground tremble. “No one’s watching to see if my posture is perfect or if I said the right thing. I can just exist here. It’s the first time in forever that I don’t feel like I’m playing a part.”

“This world gets under your skin and stays there.” Jana’s expression softened before her smirk slid back into place. She pulled on her gloves, flexing her fingers inside the leather. “Stay back from the barrier unless you want your eardrums blown out, or worse.”

“Kick ass out there. I’ll keep an eye on your friend,” Nitro reassured her.

“Listen to your scary husband. I want to see you smoke every single one of them. And when you win, you have to let me buy you the greasiest victory burger I can find.”

“Deal.” She winked. “But only if you promise not to scream too loud when I fly past. Wouldn’t want to embarrass that pretty politician’s daughter vibe you’ve got going.”

“Hey, I left the pearls at home tonight.” I rolled my eyes, still smiling. “Go show them what real driving looks like.”

She gave me a playful salute before going up on her toes to kiss Nitro. Then she strode off toward her car, and I watched her go, feeling a wild thrill I’d never experienced before. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t just watching from the sidelines in a perfect dress and a practiced smile. I was right in the middle of the action. And I never wanted to leave.

As Jana disappeared into the lineup, I stayed right where I was. My eyes were fixed on the cars idling under the harsh lights. The engines kept revving in short bursts, each one sending another delicious shiver up my spine. I couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. This place felt like freedom, and I didn’t need to quiet any part of myself to fit in.

It was the complete opposite of home, where everything was carefully orchestrated. My father built his entire world on image. Every public appearance, fundraiser, and family photo was staged like a campaign ad.

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Down & Dirty – Zeke (Dirty Angels MC – Next Gen #1) Read Online Jeanne St. James http://www.ilovenovels.com/down-dirty-zeke-dirty-angels-mc-next-gen-1-read-online-jeanne-st-james Wed, 13 May 2026 18:52:33 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/down-dirty-zeke-dirty-angels-mc-next-gen-1-read-online-jeanne-st-james Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Insta-Love, MC Authors: Jeanne St. James Series: Dirty Angels MC - Next Gen Series by Jeanne St. James
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 93698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)

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Like father, like son? Not even close.

Following his old man’s legacy as president of the Dirty Angels MC, Zeke Jamison has large boots to fill—and that hasn’t been easy. While he may look like he could've been his father’s twin, the way he runs the club and his life is far from similar. He prefers to do his own thing, run the club his way, and not necessarily the way his father ran it for decades.

That said, one way he’s followed in his biker father’s footsteps is by being incarcerated.
But unlike his old man, every time Zeke has landed in a concrete box it has been due to his own actions, not because he'd been falsely accused. His road name is Trouble for a reason, and every day spent inside was rightly earned.

But he’s determined to be done with that, especially after the only woman he’s ever cared about unexpectedly walks back into his life. The woman who ghosted him after he screwed up big time. Only, she’s not happy to see him because she’s not alone and that changes everything. Especially when an unforeseen threat arrives at the club’s door.

Down & Zeke is the first book in the Dirty Angels Next Gen series, a spin-off of the original DAMC. It’s highly recommended to read this series in order because of ongoing plot threads. As always, each couple gets their own HEA.
****
Tropes: motorcycle club, action/adventure, second chance, redemption, brotherhood, alpha male

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Glossary of Terms

Sled - Slang for a motorcycle

Cage - Slang for a vehicle with four wheels instead of two

Strange/Randoms - Sexual partners who are strangers/random people

Bid - Prison term

Screw - Correctional officer/prison guard

SCI - State Correctional Institution

Sweet butt - A club girl. They hang around the MC and service the patched members in different ways

House mouse - Normally a young woman who lives with a member for free in exchange for cleaning and keeping up his house

Ol’ lady - A woman considered property of a club member, similar to wife or girlfriend

Scratch - Money

OG - Old Guard - The older DAMC members

Backpack - Passenger on the back of a motorcycle

DAMC - Dirty Angels MC (Angels)

BFMC - Blood Fury MC (Fury)

BAMC - Blue Avengers MC

DKMC - Dark Knights MC (Knights)

AFMC - Angels of Fury MC

The DAMC Family Lineage

You can download this list from my website here: https://jeannestjamesauthor.com/products/damc-lineage

THE JAMISONS:

Zeke (Trouble) & Zane Jamison (Chill) – Zak Jamison & Sophie’s sons

Hudson (Wheels) & Sawyer Stone (Jigsaw) – Slade Stone & Diamond’s (formerly Jamison) sons

Adrianna & Gage Lincoln – Andrew Lincoln (Linc) & Jayde’s (formerly Jamison) daughter & son

Liam & Laney Jamison – Axel Jamison (Blue Avengers MC) & Bella’s (formerly Dougherty) twin son & daughter

Alexis (Lexi) & Avery Jamison – Jag Jamison & Ivy’s (formerly Dougherty) daughters

THE DOUGHERTYS: (pronounced dock-erty)

Violet, Indigo, & Scarlet Dougherty – Diesel Dougherty & Jewel’s (formerly Jamison) daughters

Ashton (Rage) Dougherty – Hawk Dougherty & Kiki’s son

Patrick (Trick) Dougherty – Dex Dougherty & Brooke’s son

Chance (Ghost) & Boone Ryder – Ryder (Shadow) & Kelsea’s (formerly Dougherty) sons

OTHERS:

Cait Moore, Lily & Emmalee Tate – Dawg & Emma’s daughters

Phoenix (Nix) & Lyric Alexander– Crow & Jazz’s son & daughter

Asia & Caleb Moore – Magnum (Dark Knights MC) & Cait’s daughter & son

Beck & Brielle Cross-Nash - Nash & Cross’s adopted twin son & daughter

Jacob (JJ/Jagoff/Joker) & Gabrielle (Gabi) McKay - Crash & Liz’s son & adopted daughter

Jordyn & Sydney Briggs – Brick (Shadow) & Londyn’s twins

Piper Sterling – Steel (Shadow) & Kat’s daughter

Tyler & Taylor Walker – Walker (Shadow) & Ellie’s son & daughter

Leo (Grim), Cruz & Dakota Delgado - Hunter (Shadow) & Frankie’s sons & daughter

Grizz & Mama Bear - deceased – Jazz’s grandparents

Ace Dougherty - deceased – married to Janice (deceased) - Hawk & Diesel’s father

Allie Dougherty – deceased - Ivy, Dex & Bella’s mother, Ace’s & Annie’s sister

Annie Dougherty – deceased – Kelsea’s mother

“Doc” Dougherty – deceased - DAMC Founder – Ace, Allie & Annie’s father

Rocky Jamison – deceased - married to Ruby (deceased) – Jewel, Diamond & Jag’s father

Bear Jamison – deceased - DAMC Founder – Mitch & Rocky’s father

Mitch Jamison – deceased - married to April - Zak, Axel & Jayde’s father

Next Gen Character List

Note: This list will be updated after each book in the series

CLUB OFFICERS:

President - Trouble - Zeke Jamison

Vice President - Chill - Zane Jamison – Co-manager at Shadow Valley Pawn

Sgt at Arms/Enforcer - Rage – Ashton Dougherty – Manager at Heaven’s Angels Gentlemen’s club

Treasurer - Cruz Delgado – Works at Shadow Valley Gun Shop & Range

Secretary – Chaos - Beck Cross-Nash – Works at The Iron Horse Roadhouse

Road Captain - Wheels - Hudson Stone – Works at Shadow Valley Body Shop & Towing

OTHER CLUB MEMBERS:

Nix – Phoenix Alexander

Trick – Patrick Dougherty

Gage - Gage Lincoln

Jigsaw – Sawyer Stone – Works at Shadow Valley Fitness

Hook – Carver Hanson - Tow truck driver at Shadow Valley Body Shop & Towing

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Daddy’s Atonement – Crime Boss Daddies Read Online Laylah Roberts http://www.ilovenovels.com/daddys-atonement-crime-boss-daddies-read-online-laylah-roberts Wed, 13 May 2026 18:52:24 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/daddys-atonement-crime-boss-daddies-read-online-laylah-roberts Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Biker, Contemporary, Crime, Erotic, MC Authors: Laylah Roberts Advertisement

Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 160192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)

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All her life she’d been trapped in a cage . . .
Some of them were better than others, but that didn’t matter when all she dreamed of was freedom.
However, dreams weren’t for people like her.
Angie only had nightmares.
People either abused or abandoned her.
Which is why she wasn’t going to believe the promises from a crime lord.
A Bartolli had ruined her life once. She couldn’t let that happen again.
No matter how sexy and protective he was.
Or now seductive and possessive his sub could be.
They would just have to find another girl to be Jared’s Little and North’s plaything, to love them.
Because love wasn’t for girls like her.

Please This book contains a super hot crime boss who is definitely in charge. Although his sub might try to argue that point. And both of them want our heroine as well as each other

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

PROLOGUE

Chicago

Five years ago . . .

His father was a dead man.

It was only a matter of time. With the lifestyle that bastard led it wouldn’t take long before he pickled his liver.

Or was murdered.

But as he looked at the extremely young, scared woman sitting across from him at the dining table, Jared felt like grabbing the steak knife off the table and stabbing it into his father’s fat, fucking throat himself.

Fuck, he wished North was here.

But his father didn’t believe in letting “the help” sit at the dining table. There was a definite divide in this household between “the help” and “the family.”

Jared longed to tell his father just what North meant to him . . . but he knew that would only put a target on North’s back.

North thought he could take care of himself.

However, Jared’s father was a fucking monster.

And Jared knew that he’d use anyone he loved against him. It was why he had to act like he didn’t care about his cousin, Tabby, while doing his best to keep her safe.

And why he couldn’t show that he was concerned about the young woman across from him.

The girl who his father had apparently fucking married.

Jared tightened his hand around his fork, then slowly eased his hold.

Do not show any reaction.

Do not show that you care.

The urge to murder him was almost too much for him to control. And while his father deserved to die, Jared wasn’t quite in a position to make that happen.

He was building up his own empire, without the old man’s knowledge, down in Colombia. His own team of men that worked for him because they wanted to.

Not out of fear.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t openly murder the bastard. Not without making too many waves in the family.

North had offered to sneak into his bedroom and slit his throat. But there was too much risk.

However, he needed to move up his timeline.

“Well?” Fergus said as he stabbed a piece of steak. “Don’t you have anything to say to your new stepmother?” He chortled after saying that.

As though everything was a big joke.

The girl flinched.

She looked hungry, haunted.

On her plate was a tiny serving of food. Some plain mashed potatoes and a few beans.

He didn’t blame her for not wanting to eat but that wasn’t enough.

“Don’t call her that,” he snapped and she jumped.

Regret filled him.

Jared hadn’t meant to scare her. The last thing he wanted was to add to her pain.

When his father told him eighteen months ago that he was getting married, Jared had felt sorry for the poor woman. But he’d also figured that she knew what she was getting into.

He hadn’t attended the wedding.

Hadn’t given her another thought.

Jared hadn’t had time to worry about what shit his father was getting up to.

But he should have known better.

He should have been keeping a closer eye on what his father was doing.

“How old are you?” He hadn’t meant to ask that, but the words just shot out of him.

She would be stunning if she didn’t look so terrified.

“N-nearly t-twenty-one.”

His father smiled. “Fucking hot, isn’t she? The young ones are just so . . . delicious. I can get you a young one, too. I’ve built up some nice connections.”

“I’ll let you know,” Jared said through gritted teeth.

Not fucking happening.

But appearances had to be kept.

He could not let his father know that behind the scenes, he was plotting to take him out.

It could be done.

It had to be.

For his sake.

For his cousin’s safety.

And for this abused and traumatized woman.

“We’ve got to get her free, North.”

Jared paced back and forth in the bedroom suite at his father’s sadistic torture venue.

Otherwise known as his home.

North knew he should have gone to dinner with Jared. What Jared didn’t understand is that he wasn’t scared of his father.

That disgusting pig didn’t intimidate him. Jared only had to give him the go-ahead and he’d happily slip into his bedroom and slit the bastard’s throat.

Easy-peasy.

He sharpened his knife as Jared paced back and forth. North was hoping he might notice and give him the nod.

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