MC – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

MC – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:11:31 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png MC – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 Heart Song Read Online Bella Jewel http://www.ilovenovels.com/heart-song-read-online-bella-jewel Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:09:16 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/heart-song-read-online-bella-jewel Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, MC Authors: Bella Jewel Advertisement

Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)

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Two years ago, Violet ran.
She left behind the betrayal, pain, and man who shattered her heart.
Travis Phoenix.
Once her safe place.
Now a world-famous rockstar drowning in fame, addiction, and regret.
For two years she tried to forget him. Tried to rebuild herself far away from the life that nearly destroyed her.
But some ghosts refuse to stay buried.
Now she’s coming home after an accident gives her no other choice.
She tells herself it’s for closure. Just to make sure he’s okay.
To face the past and move on.
But the moment she sees Travis again, she realizes something has changed.
He’s darker.
More dangerous.
And harder to resist than ever.
The boy she loved is gone, replaced by a man battling demons he can barely control

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

PROLOGUE

They say the dying don’t feel the cold. Maybe the body saves its last energy for shock, a neat evolutionary trick. My body seems to have missed that memo, because I feel everything—the rain stinging my face, the warm blood soaking my shirt, the clanging of steel doors when the ambulance crew pulls them open, shouts echoing through the night. Someone with cigarette hands drags me onto a plastic sheet.

I try to blink, but it would seem my eyes have forgotten how to work. Instead, I lie there, piercing droplets of rain hammering into my eyeballs as I stare blankly up at the buzzing neon sign. They’re asking my name, repeatedly, and I know the answer, it’s in there somewhere, but my mouth refuses to cooperate.

I’m surprised how much this doesn’t scare me.

Somehow, my dad found out what happened, because suddenly he’s there, howling, “You better let me see my fuckin’ daughter or so help me God, I will fuckin’ make a scene you won’t forget.”

“Sir! Step back!” a cop, or maybe EMS, bellows back.

I want to tell him it’s okay, but the words keep slapping against the back of my teeth, refusing to escape.

They pack me into the ambulance, and my body feels strangely limp, as if my muscles have just forgotten how to work. My arm slides off the gurney and flops. The paramedic beside me, a young lady who barely looks older than me, smiles down as she takes my hand and continues talking, trying to get answers that I am still unable to give.

Eventually, she works a needle into my vein and I half-laugh, because I can feel the sting of the needle far more than the pain of the bullet that ripped through me only moments ago. My father is still roaring outside, louder than the rain. I wonder if they will let him in. I wouldn’t put it past him to shoot his way in, if need be.

That wouldn’t end well for any of us.

I shift—at least, I try to. My pulse is thumping, relentless. My body wants to give in, float away like the rain over the highway, but I dig in. I don’t want the easy way. I want the part where people are proud of me for surviving.

“Violet, can you squeeze my hand?”

The paramedic is back to attempting questions that I am still not answering.

I imagine what Dad will say when he finally reaches me. I can almost hear his voice, hoarse and bruised, promising he’ll get his shit together. He won’t. It’s not how we’re built. I wonder if Travis knows I’m here. Is he driving recklessly down the road right now, desperate to reach me?

My heart sinks.

Because I already know Travis and my story is over.

They slam the ambulance doors. My gurney rattles, and I can’t tell if I black out again or just lose my grip on the moment, because the next thing I know, I’m being pushed quickly down a hall, the blazing white light above me burning my eyes. Then, there are more hands, more voices, far too much chaos.

“She’s a lucky girl,” someone says, “she should have died instantly from a shot like that.”

I want to say I’m not lucky. Not even unlucky. I just am.

The gurney jerks left and we push through swinging doors. My cheeks prickle with sudden warmth, and my body suddenly feels very alive, like every nerve ending is on fire. Two people descend at once. I fixate on the name stitched onto the taller one’s jacket and try to get my brain to remember it: Jacob. That’s not so hard. His hands move fast, peeling away my layers, until there’s nothing left but the sticky t-shirt and my broken skin.

I hear Chief’s voice again. Of course it didn’t take him long to arrive and make his presence known once more.

They say, “Sir, you have to wait outside,” and the words he throws back at them are enough to make the room fall silent.

They let him in.

“Baby, I’m here. I’m right here. Look at me.”

His eyes scan my face, and his hands keep flexing open and shut around mine. He leans in close, pressing his forehead to mine. He whispers, “Stay with me, kid. Don’t you pull any of that bullshit, you hear me? You’re gonna get through this and tell me all about it on the other side.”

The doctor tells him that he needs to go now, time is up, but he ignores him. Chief’s voice is gravelly as he presses his lips to my forehead. “I love you, Violet. I’m so goddamn sorry.”

I blink—just once, because it feels like it takes every single ounce of strength to pull my eyelids down and shove them back up. I want to grab his arm, or squeeze his hand, or just simply smile, but nothing is working.

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Rebel (Hounds of Hellfire MC #11) Read Online Fiona Davenport http://www.ilovenovels.com/rebel-hounds-of-hellfire-mc-11-read-online-fiona-davenport Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:09:11 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/rebel-hounds-of-hellfire-mc-11-read-online-fiona-davenport Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Insta-Love, MC Authors: Fiona Davenport Series: Hounds of Hellfire MC Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)

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Ronan “Rebel” Blackwood had seen enough of his club brothers fall hard and fast to know Clara Winslet was his the second she crashed into him. The Hounds’ enforcer decided right then that the sassy woman was getting his patch.
Clara never expected Rebel to show up at her family farm night after night, locking the place down tight and stealing her heart in the process. But when danger creeps too close, Rebel will burn through anything standing between him and keeping Clara safe

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

1

REBEL

The Hounds of Hellfire MC clubhouse was filled with relief when we returned, the tension from earlier finally giving way to laughter and easy camaraderie. My muscles were still taut from the confrontation we’d just come from, my hands flexing instinctively as the adrenaline slowly faded. I stood slightly apart, observing quietly as my brothers spread through the space, each drawn toward their women like magnets, the embraces that followed unmistakably possessive.

The comfortable intimacy between the couples created a sense of envy in my chest. Not that I’d admit it out loud. It had been a damn long time since I’d let myself think about settling down or wanting someone that close.

Ace, our treasurer, moved immediately toward Poppy, his stride swift and purposeful. The intensity in his eyes told anyone watching exactly how much he needed to see her after what we’d just handled. We’d eliminated the threat against her, and I could only imagine his relief.

He caught her face in his big hands and kissed her deeply, unapologetic about his claim as he pulled her tight against him. Our president, King, approached them, a tiny lift at the corners of his mouth as he handed over the leather property vest he’d probably had for weeks. Ace had made it clear that Poppy was it for him right after they met.

Poppy’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushing with pure happiness as Ace settled the vest over her shoulders. It was impossible not to notice the way they looked at each other—raw, fiercely protective, and completely in love.

My gaze drifted slightly to the left, and every muscle in my body suddenly locked tight. Standing beside Poppy was a woman I’d never seen before, but in a single breath, she owned every ounce of my attention. A strange, possessive heat rolled through me as I took her in.

Thick chestnut hair was loosely braided and hung over one shoulder. The low lighting in the lounge was just bright enough to catch copper highlights threaded through the strands. She had the kind of curves that made my pulse spike hard. Her lush hips were wrapped in worn jeans that hugged her like they were made just for her. A simple flannel shirt was knotted loosely at her waist, accentuating those curves and drawing my attention exactly where it shouldn’t linger in public.

She wasn’t just beautiful, she was fucking captivating. Her skin was kissed by the sun, a delicate warmth that made my fingers itch to touch. She seemed completely unaware of my eyes tracking her every move. Her smile was bright and effortlessly radiant as she spoke with Poppy, her eyes dancing with animated laughter as she admired the newly presented vest. She had no idea I was watching, completely oblivious to the possessive heat coiling through me with every passing second.

The intensity of my reaction caught me completely off guard. As I watched her, that unexpected longing tightening my chest wasn’t envy anymore. It was something deeper, more primal—a fierce, instinctive recognition that she belonged to me.

She took a step back and bumped directly into my chest. Instinctively, my hands shot out to grip her arms, steadying her. Heat sparked through my fingertips at the contact, catching me off guard. When she spun around, those amber eyes met mine, wide and startled for a brief second before her full, pouty lips curved into a bright smile that sent another shock wave straight to my groin.

“Oops! Sorry about that.” Laughter bubbled beneath her voice as her gaze moved over me, curiosity and surprise clear in those mesmerizing eyes.

I managed a stiff nod, but words failed me. A brooding scowl tugged automatically at my features, masking the turmoil inside me. As my stare swept slowly over her face, the subtle flush on her cheeks, the curve of her neck, and those lush curves, I couldn’t hold back the muttered curse under my breath. “Fucking hell.”

Her smile faltered slightly, her brow furrowing in confusion as she turned back to Poppy and rolled her eyes in amused frustration. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to belong to one of these guys.”

Something possessive snapped inside me, instantly accepting what my body already knew—she was mine. Before I even realized what I was doing, the words were growling out of me, low and rough with irritation. “You’ll know soon enough.”

She whipped around to face me again, her hands landing firmly on those curvy hips, her chin lifting stubbornly as her brows rose. The defiance in her stance sent another hot rush of desire through me, nearly stealing my breath. “Pardon?”

I didn’t answer right away as my eyes held hers for a long, tense moment. I was acutely aware of Ace’s gaze on us, and the surprised silence that had fallen over the others nearby. But I was too caught up in this overwhelming certainty to care.

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Colter (Shady Valley Henchmen #9) Read Online Jessica Gadziala http://www.ilovenovels.com/colter-shady-valley-henchmen-9-read-online-jessica-gadziala Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:09:07 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/colter-shady-valley-henchmen-9-read-online-jessica-gadziala Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Authors: Jessica Gadziala Series: Shady Valley Henchmen Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77505 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)

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He didn’t see it coming.
Deals go bad. That’s part of life. But he had no idea how close he came to losing everything—until the man behind him drops and he realizes he’d been a target.
Then he’d been saved.
By her.
But she’s gone before he can figure out why she’d rescued him.

She didn’t mean to step in.
But after everything those guys took from her, she couldn’t stand around and watch them create any more damage.
And now she’s got more problems than she asked for.
The last thing she needs is another man in her way.
Too bad he’s isn’t the kind to walk away.
And when his club gets involved, things take a turn she’d never seen coming

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

CHAPTER ONE

Colter

“Do I want to know why there are four bras in the freezer?” Detroit asked. He had four steaks in his hand that he moved to a platter in the fridge to defrost.

“Three words,” I said, shooting him a smirk.

“Let me guess: Raff, Saint, and Syn.”

“Bingo.”

“Been a bit since the club was this insane,” Detroit said, shaking his head.

“You’re up and out early.”

“The kids and Everleigh all got a stomach bug. I’ve been forced into quarantine because, as she says, ‘One of us needs to not have their head in the toilet all day.’ And I’m bored as shit over there. Figured I’d hit the gym, but I stopped here to defrost some steaks.”

“Because no one in your house is eating and you hate cooking just for yourself?”

“You know me well.”

Detroit used to cook for the club multiple times a day. But becoming a husband and father had stolen a lot of his time.

In his absence, the diner in town had been getting a lot of business from us. And the prepared food section at the supermarket.

We’d each tried our hand at cooking. But, well, I’d spent most of my adulthood eating prepared meals or MREs in the military.

Raff spent most of his time on the road, eating fast food or gas station hot dogs.

Syn had been living in a damn storage locker for years with no way to cook.

And Saint, well, Saint had been in prison.

Though out of all of us, he was the only one who could cook a half-edible meal. I figured that might have to do with having to raise his much younger brother. He made a mean breakfast omelet and had a hand with the grill, but without anyone to make sides, those nights were just… meat.

“When’s the last time you guys had something halfway healthy to eat?” Detroit asked. He dug around through the dozen or so clamshell containers in the fridge in search of vegetables to make as a side.

“When’s the last time you cooked for us?” I shot back.

That got a huff of a laugh out of him.

“Well, I guess I’m hitting up the food store after the gym.”

“Ah, morning,” a woman’s voice said, making both of us turn to find her standing just inside the kitchen.

I remembered her from the night before. Pretty, blonde, petite. She’d been hanging on Syn’s every word. Her hair was dry and tangled in the harsh morning, and her red, hungover eyes had raccoon liner smudged beneath. She’d stolen one of Syn’s tees that she had knotted over her party dress. Her heels must have been stashed in her purse because she was wearing one of the sets of slides the club kept stocked for, well, exactly this purpose. Who wanted to do the walk of shame in icepick heels?

“Morning,” I said over the rim of my coffee cup. “Want some coffee?”

“Actually, ah, I’m… missing…”

She sighed, closing her eyes.

“Pink, purple, black, or beige?” Detroit asked, walking over to the freezer.

“Purple,” she admitted, shaking her head at herself. “Thanks,” she said, taking the bra from Detroit, folding it in half, and shoving it into her bag. “Why did we put them in there again?”

Detroit looked at me.

“That part is a little blurry for me too. It was after the strip poker but before the topless karaoke…”

The woman let out a laugh/groan hybrid.

“So… my phone.”

“I lined them up by the door,” I told her.

I’d crashed earlier than the others. I didn’t know if I was getting old or boring (or both) but the liquor had hit me hard, making me too tired to even think about taking a woman up to bed. So I’d gotten extra sleep and woke up to straighten the disaster of the living space before Slash happened by and saw it.

“You need a ride into town? I’m heading to the gym.”

The woman looked relieved.

“That would be great. I came with Madison, but, I, uh, guess she isn’t up yet. I have to get to work.”

“No problem,” Detroit said as I turned to pour some coffee into a to-go cup for her, adding some cream and sugar because who didn’t like coffee with something a little extra in it after a night of drinking, and held it out to her.

“Probably gonna need this,” I said as she reached for it.

“Thank you. This was… a lot different than I expected.”

The town had a little bit of a boom, population-wise. A lot of new women around who hadn’t visited the club before.

This woman worked as a nurse at the prison. Which I knew because when Saint reached for something and his shirt lifted up, she’d squealed and declared that she’d been the one to treat the wound that caused the scar on his back.

“Come back anytime. We’re always up for fun,” I said, toasting her with my coffee cup.

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Vex (Devil Daddies MC #4) Read Online Pepper North http://www.ilovenovels.com/vex-devil-daddies-mc-4-read-online-pepper-north Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:09:05 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/vex-devil-daddies-mc-4-read-online-pepper-north Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Authors: Pepper North Series: Devil Daddies MC Series by Pepper North
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Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 202(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)

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In Angel's darkest hour, a biker from the wrong side of the tracks swoops in to rescue her.

The daughter of a wealthy businessman, Angel Daniels enjoys her indulgent lifestyle, even if she teeters on the edge of boredom. That all changes when the Ravagers kidnap her. Will she survive their evil plot?

Vex plays life fast and loose. He doubts the special woman he's dreamed of will ever appear, so why not take chances? The last place he expects to find the one he could love forever is in the clutches of the Devil Daddies' rivals. And that other guy who thinks he's claiming Angel? He's totally wrong for her

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

Chapter 1

She’d never liked darkness, even when at home where she knew she was safe. Here, the black shadows filling the unfamiliar space challenged her ability to withstand the panic looming inside her. Angel held on to her composure with the ragged nails on her usually immaculate fingers.

She’d tested every side of the room in her search for an exit from this hellhole and found nothing other than a door that opened randomly to allow the light from the hallway to spill inside. Each time she cowered, expecting mistreatment. Each time she’d been correct, and her hopes of being rescued faded away.

Could this get any worse?

A growing ache in her abdomen answered that question. Angel had no idea how many days had passed since the Ravagers had taken her. The jerks had used the darkness to keep her from tracking whether it was day or night. Combined with their random visits to terrorize her with threats of what would happen to her if her father didn’t comply with their demands, Angel had completely lost track of time.

The door slammed open, and she jumped and cowered back against the wall. The tattooed man that swaggered inside laughed mockingly at her automatic reaction before taunting her with the latest update.

“Bad news, Ms. Daniels. Your beloved dad wants nothing to do with you. He’s not willing to pay your ransom. Sucks to be you, huh? I’m debating whether to kill you now or after I turn you over to my men for a bit of fun.”

The apple of her father’s eye, Angel was confident her dad would never have sent that message. As terrified as she was by his threat of whatever his bikers would consider amusing, Angel tried not to let him see how much he scared her. Stiffening her back, she tried to pull her courage around her as a shield. She might have come from a rich family, but that didn’t mean everyone had always treated her well. Jealous girls had tormented her in school. Angel had learned to never let them see that their words got to her.

“He’ll pay. You might want to check how loyal your people ferrying messages are. They might have brokered their own deal,” she suggested. Take that, asshole. Hopefully doubts about the hold he had over the Ravager crew would fester in his brain.

“My men would never betray me,” Viper, the Ravager’s president, growled.

“Okay. Just letting you know I’m his only daughter. If you really haven’t heard from him, something’s wrong.” Angel crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping to plant additional doubt in the volatile motorcycle club leader’s mind. Each time she saw Viper, he reacted differently. Anticipating his reaction to anything was impossible.

“Fucking bitch,” Viper said, storming from the room. “Lock her in again, Cyclone. This time, no water for two days.”

The man who’d sporadically brought her food and drinks since she’d gotten there shouted down the hallway after the irate biker, “You got it, Viper.”

As Cyclone closed the door, Angel called out, “Wait! I need some tampons. I don’t want to make a big mess in here for you to have to clean up.”

The biker wasn’t quite as rough as the others in the Ravagers. He’d told Angel that Viper had assigned this duty to him to make sure she stayed alive because he had medical training. When she’d arrived, he’d gotten her a bucket to pee in.

“Viper’s not going to approve those.”

“I doubt he’s going to scrub the blood off the floor when I’m gone. Maybe you could think of some way to talk him into it?” Angel suggested. She was sure Viper would want to humiliate her. This was a perfectly embarrassing scenario for the MC president to use to his advantage.

“I’ll talk to him. Later. You pissed him off too much.”

Without another word, Cyclone slammed the door shut and locked it. Angel wrapped her arms around herself in the darkness, trying to comfort herself. If only Sammie was there with her. No, she wouldn’t want her stuffie in this awful place.

Catching herself almost sticking her thumb in her mouth for the millionth time, Angel grabbed a fistful of her grubby designer T-shirt to tether her hand away from her face. She wouldn’t soothe herself by allowing her Little side to come out either. Who knew whether the Ravagers had installed night-vision cameras in the room with her? Viper probably got off on watching her.

Two days had to have passed when Cyclone returned, for her cramps that always accompanied the heaviest days of her cycle had ended. Trapped in the darkness with nothing to use for her period, Angel had wadded her skimpy underwear up between her legs. If only she’d had on the granny panties she usually did during her period. Unfortunately, she’d been wearing a thong when taken. That skimpy material had soon become saturated. She’d tried to rip the bottom of her jeans or shirt off to use as a pad. Everything resisted tearing. She couldn’t do anything about the mess. All hope that she’d survive this ordeal evaporated as she lost the last shreds of her dignity.

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Property of Mellow (Kings of Anarchy Alabama #3) Read Online Chelsea Camaron http://www.ilovenovels.com/property-of-mellow-kings-of-anarchy-alabama-3-read-online-chelsea-camaron Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:09:03 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/property-of-mellow-kings-of-anarchy-alabama-3-read-online-chelsea-camaron Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Authors: Chelsea Camaron Series: Kings of Anarchy Alabama Series by Chelsea Camaron
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Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >62

Nothing above the Kings, especially not a single mom pinned down by a drunk man in a bar.
Anarchy reigns.
Smoke a little smoke, drink a little drink, and live life one ride to the next.
Freedom Falls, Alabama is either the safest place to live or the most dangerous, depending on one’s view of the Kings of Anarchy MC.

Tucker “Mellow” Bostic is a hot-headed, alpha male who doesn’t back down from a challenge. He’s traveled the world finally calling the gulf coast home. Life for him is all things Kings and anarchy reigns supreme.

Lucy Coe is a single mom trying to pick up the pieces of her shattered heart. A call from her ex lands her in a bar cornered by a stranger and frozen in fear. That is how she meets a man who is anything but mellow regardless if that is what everyone keeps calling him.

She never expected this one meeting would change her life forever. With her world covered in chaos, she finds calm in the arms of the VP of the Kings of Anarchy MC and Mellow finds a woman who manages to tame the beast inside him.

*Each book in the Kings of Anarchy Alabama series is a full-length romance novel. This is a series of interconnected stand-alone books inside the Kings of Anarchy shared world. See the Kings of Anarchy site for a full list of participating authors. This book is not meant to be an exact depiction of life in a motorcycle club but rather a work of fiction meant to entertain

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

KINGS OF ANARCHY MC: FREEDOM FALLS, ALABAMA

President – Damian “Chux” Masters

Vice President – Tucker “Mellow” Bostic

Secretary – Juan Carlos “Gainz” Rivera

Treasurer – Nathan “Grit” Rockwell

Sergeant at Arms – Derek “Shaft” Minor

Road Captain – Aidyn “Stunt” Williams

Enforcer – River “Looney” Jones

Tail Gunner – Ledger “Riot” Masters

Chaplain – Paul “Saged” Steiner

Additional members – Zane “Nitro” Fletcher

Chase “Fresh” Davis

Jackson “Dodge” Stillwater

Gage “Dice” Wilson

Prospects – AKA Dipshits

Nero Oliver

Dawson Blue

Ace Prescott

ONE

LUCY

I shouldn’t be here. The thought runs through my head for the hundredth time as I push open the heavy wooden door of Black Rose Tavern and step inside. The smell hits me first—beer, overpowering perfume mixed with cologne, and something fried in old oil. It’s loud, too. Music humming through old speakers, the clack of pool balls, men laughing too hard.

My fingers tighten around my purse strap. This was a bad idea.

What choice did I have? My ex called, making it known he found me again, and wants to discuss our child. I can’t ignore it. He will chase me out of this town and I’ve finally found footing again. As much as I want to, I can’t run forever. The life I have given to Quinn isn’t the one I dreamed of. Two years of moving, two years without stability, I can’t keep it up. She needs to make friends and keep them.

Which is why he called, I answered, and I’m walking into a dive bar like I know what I’m doing, even as every instinct in my body screams against this.

I glance around the bar, scanning the space, taking in all the faces. None of them are familiar—truckers maybe, a few locals, some rough-looking guys in worn denim and leather. Those I know as Kings of Anarchy Motorcycle Club because they come in to the diner I work at sometimes and frequent the ice cream shop I have a second job at. A couple women sit near the bar laughing loudly with a group of men. They are dressed for the night out while I’m considerably covered up. The more I look around, the more my anxiety climbs. He isn’t here.

I check the time on my phone. Seven twenty-three. He said seven. I didn’t see his car in the parking lot and purposely waited to make sure he would already be here. And he’s not.

My stomach twists. Typical. He is playing games with me as usual.

A bartender with a gray beard wipes down the counter and nods in my direction. “You meeting someone, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” I remark, forcing a polite smile as I step closer. “My ex. He said he’d meet me here.”

“What’s your name?” He ask still wiping down the bar top.

“Lucy,” I respond hoping maybe this will help somehow.

The man snorts softly like he’s heard that story before. “Well, honey, you can wait if you want, but I ain’t seen anyone come in looking for a Lucy.”

Great. I exhale slowly and slide onto a stool anyway. “Can I just get a soda?”

He pours one without asking questions and pushes it toward me. I wrap both hands around the glass, letting the cold seep into my fingers. Maybe Clint’s late. Maybe he got stuck in traffic. Maybe—My phone buzzes interrupting my thoughts.

My heart jumps as I grab it. Unknown number.

I answer quickly. “Hello?”

A slurred voice comes through the speaker. “Lucy?”

I stiffen as instincts kick in. Tension rolls through me as my body prepares to take the brunt of whatever comes next. Abuse is a funny thing like that. Even with years away, my body reacts like I am back in the grips of his violence once again. I thought I was strong enough to face him. I was wrong. Based on this phone call alone, I am not ready to do this. Now, I’m going to have to work things out to move again. He’s too close.

“Where are you?” He asks speaking clearly suddenly.

“I’m here,” I say carefully. “At Black Rose. Like you said.”

A long pause. Then a laugh. “Yeah, about that. I ain’t gonna make it tonight.”

For a moment I don’t breathe. “You asked me to meet you,” I respond delicately because everything inside me is screaming that I mixed it up. This is my fault. Old habits die hard.

“Relax,” he states like we are friends. “We’ll figure out something later.”

Anger flares in my chest. “You said it was about Quinn.”

“Yeah well,” he mutters, “I’ve been thinking we need to work out visitation.”

My stomach drops. “You can’t just decide that after two years. When I left you told me to take off and not to look back. You even said she wasn’t yours.” I leave off the part where he specifically told me if I did stay close he would kill me in front of our daughter to teach her a lesson about leaving.

His tone turns sharp. “Don’t fuckin’ say that shit. She’s my kid too. You keep popping off and around, can’t find you, and I want to see her. You got off clean, Lucy. That’s bullshit. Taking off and making me chase you like a fucking dog wanting a bone. Ain’t got a taste for you right now. Just wanna see my daughter.”

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Knight (Kiss of Death MC #12) Read Online Marteeka Karland http://www.ilovenovels.com/knight-kiss-of-death-mc-12-read-online-marteeka-karland Thu, 23 Apr 2026 23:04:27 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/knight-kiss-of-death-mc-12-read-online-marteeka-karland Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Authors: Marteeka Karland Series: Kiss of Death MC Series by Marteeka Karland
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Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57099 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)

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I thought my past buried until I learned I have a critically ill daughter. Only I can save her life.

Knight — I just found out I have a daughter. Brynn. Walking back into Lavender’s world forces me to face the woman I never stopped loving and the child I failed before I ever knew her. The system doesn’t care that I’ve changed, and powerful men are willing to sacrifice Brynn’s future for their own gain. I will not let that happen. I will give my little girl my kidney without hesitation, and I will fight anyone who stands in our way. Redemption is not guaranteed, but this time I’m staying.

Lavender — For eleven years, it was just the two of us, me and my daughter. Now she needs a kidney transplant, and I’m forced to find the man who walked out on us. Rhys is no longer the man I loved. He’s harder, dangerous, and bound to a motorcycle club I don’t trust. I won’t forgive him, and I don’t want to need him. But when becomes collateral damage, Rhys proves he won’t walk away again. Letting him back into our lives could cost me everything, but losing him after this would cost even more

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

Prologue

Knight

A month ago, I had my life figured out. The people in Kiss of Death MC had become my brothers and sisters. They’d all had my back, in prison and out. The club represented the entirety of my loyalty. My life.

A month ago.

I’d been staring at this Goddamned email since I’d found it. I’d opened it. Read it. Then promptly vomited. I’d told Ada and she’d been excited, but the longer I thought about it, the more dread settled in the pit of my stomach.

As with most nights since I’d gotten the email, I sat staring at the screen. Just… reading the words over and over and trying to make sense of them. My eyes burned from the blue glow of the screen.

The hit came back as “close relative/first cousin.” Given the DNA Ada sent in was hers, I had very little doubt this child was my daughter.

Brynn Leahy. Brynn. The name Lavender and I had picked out right after her senior year of high school. Then later. The night I’d gotten arrested. She’d asked me about the name Brynn for a baby’s name. Looking back, after Ada had voiced her suspicions, Lavender might have been going to tell me then. We’d been interrupted by the feds, of course. Because I’d gotten greedy and stupid. Lavender had even given the child my last name instead of hers. I knew Lavender. We’d spent a good deal of our lives together. Practically grown up together, though I was six years older than she was.

She’d had a hopeless crush on me my junior year of high school. She’d been in the fifth grade. Even though I’d started out being amused by her, she’d quickly grown on me. I’d thought of her as an adored little sister. Right up until I’d come back from college after getting my masters in economics -- just in time for her to ask me to her senior prom.

I never even contemplated telling her no. Never occurred to me. Just got the day and time she wanted me to pick her up, rented a tux, bought her flowers, and showed up in a limo. No way she was getting anything but the best.

I’d swaggered to her door. I hadn’t been heavily muscled or anything, but I knew I was good looking. I also knew that bringing an older date to her prom would make her friends envious. Then she’d opened the fucking door…

And I literally fell to my knees on her front porch. I’d begged her to marry me on the spot. She’d thought I was playing a bit, being dramatic to make her smile. What she didn’t find out for two solid years was I’d been totally serious. We’d kept in touch while I’d been away at school, but I’d never seen her in anything other than jeans and a T-shirt. The slinky formal dress she’d donned had me wanting to keep her covered and at the same time show her off so everyone knew the goddess in the room belonged to me.

Memories sliced through my brain painfully. Lavender had been the one person in the world I wanted to protect with everything I had. Still did. Apparently, I’d fucked up twice. First when I decided I could make enough money to set us up for life sooner rather than later and got caught. Then when I’d basically told her to get lost and that I never wanted to see her again. And I wasn’t nice about it.

“Fuck,” I whispered to the empty room. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

I pushed back from the desk, the chair legs scraping against concrete. Cold sweat broke out across my forehead and ran down my spine. Brynn. Brynn existed. Brynn lived and breathed in this world. Brynn. My daughter.

The word felt foreign, impossible.

Outside, the compound hummed with night activity. Music thumped dully from the clubhouse. Engines roared as brothers returned from whatever jobs had kept them out past midnight. Normal sounds. My life since I’d gotten out of prison.

I dragged my hands down my face, feeling the rough scratch of stubble. How old would Brynn be now? Eleven? Christ. A whole person, a part of Lavender and me. And I’d missed every Goddamned second of her growing up. I’d basically left Lavender to fend for herself. She’d been a foster kid and on her own the second she’d turned eighteen. I hadn’t wanted her to have the life she’d already lost out on. I wanted her to have a better life. That didn’t include an ex-con for a husband. But I’d panicked. I hadn’t wanted any blowback to hit Lavender. Looking back, I could see how big a fucking coward I’d been.

I moved to the tiny window overlooking the compound. These men trusted me with their lives. Just like I trusted them. I’d carved a new life out for myself here. Become someone completely different. Lavender would never recognize me, and I seriously doubted she’d like the man I’d become.

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Skulls and Lace (Book of Legion – Badlands MC #4) Read Online J.A. Huss http://www.ilovenovels.com/skulls-and-lace-book-of-legion-badlands-mc-4-read-online-j-a-huss Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:53:34 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/skulls-and-lace-book-of-legion-badlands-mc-4-read-online-j-a-huss Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Dark, MC, Novella Authors: J.A. Huss Series: Book of Legion - Badlands MC Series by J.A. Huss
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Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 38333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 192(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)

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Trigger warning: Inc*st between triplets, violence.

This is a m/m/m short story.

Life’s been hard for the love triplets.
Abusive home life. Cruel kids at school. Hateful town.
The only love they’ve known is each other.

When they turn eighteen, they leave to make a life of their own, free of pain and sadness.
It’s better than they could have ever imagined.

Until new feelings emerge, threatening to destroy the only thing they care about…each other.
They’re brothers. Best friends. Together from the beginning.
Can they be lovers, too, or will this steal the only bit of happiness they’ve ever known?

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

CHAPTER 1

The clubhouse door hits the wall as I shoulder it open, the familiar smell of cigarettes and spilled beer doing nothing to mask the iron tang of blood. Blood on my hands. Blood on my shirt. Blood trailing behind us like breadcrumbs through the fucking forest. One month back with my brothers, and already everything's gone to shit.

"Move!" I shout, kicking a chair out of the way as Crow and Dusty struggle through the door behind me, Butch's weight sagging between them. His head lolls forward, chin touching chest. Too much blood loss. Too much time in the truck getting back. The prospects' faces are ghost-white under the fluorescent lights, eyes wide with panic. Kids playing at being outlaws until the bullets start flying.

"Jesus fuck," someone whispers from the bar.

"Not helping," I growl, scanning the room. Too many eyes watching. Too many mouths that'll talk later. "Everyone out. Now."

The bar empties in seconds—hangarounds and weekend warriors all scrambling for the door. Only patched members remain, frozen in place like they're watching a movie they can't pause.

Butch groans, a wet, rattling sound that means there's blood in places it shouldn't be.

"Put him down," I order, clearing empty bottles and ashtrays from the closest table with a sweep of my arm. "Here. Don’t rock him, Dusty! Be careful!"

The prospects lay Butch down, his body heavy and unresponsive as he bleeds out on the table.

I've seen enough gunshot wounds to know this one's bad. The entry wound is a small. A nice, neat hole just below his collarbone. But the exit wound is a ragged crater of flesh.

His skin is gray, his lips blue at the edges.

Fuck. He’s not gonna make it. He’s not gonna make it.

"Where's the fuckin’ doctor?" I demand, pressing my palm against the wound. Blood seeps between my fingers, warm and steady.

Crow shakes his head, swallowing hard. "I’ve called him three times. He didn’t pick up."

"Try again," I snap, meeting his eyes. "And keep trying until he does."

Crow nods, stepping away with his phone pressed to his ear.

"What happened out there?" Ledger asks from somewhere behind me. "That route was supposed to be clean."

Clean. That’s almost funny at this point. I reach for clean bar towels, packing them around the wound. "Ambush. Three trucks came in, no lights on. Like they had night vision. They knew exactly where we'd be. We were in the middle of the drop, piling it up under the tarp behind the gas station on Route 12, when they came burnin’ in. Butch had to abandon his bike and hop in the damn truck. That’s how he got shot.”

“What did they take?” Diesel asks.

“All of it,” I snap. “All of it, Diesel.”

"Well…” Roach shrugs. It could’ve been a coincidence.”

"Bullshit," I scoff. "This is the third time this month something's gone sideways." I press harder on Butch's wound, and he groans. "Someone's feeding information. We’ve got ourselves a fuckin’ rat."

The room goes quiet except for Butch's labored breathing and Crow's desperate voice in the corner, still on the phone.

"Got him!" Crow shouts. "He's twenty minutes out."

"Tell him to make it ten," I order.

Diesel meets my eyes, sighing. He knows it’s true. Things are… not OK here in Badlands. Haven’t been since I got back. “Let me take over,” he says, pushing my hands away from Butch’s wound. I let him do it because I’m so fuckin’ pissed, I might explode if I don’t walk it off.

Diesel places his big hands over the towel that’s already wet with blood while I play the ambush on a loop in my head.

We were loadin’, then… we heard them. But it was fast. There was no time to get out. Then the lights flashed, lit up in three directions. They started shootin’ immediately.

I cannot even believe that Butch was the only one shot. At least a dozen bullets went whizzin’ by me, missin’. But just barely.

I’m lookin’ at the clubhouse door, still lost in the memory, when it swings open and Brick walks through.

Well… finally. “Where the fuck have you been,” I snap. “I’ve been callin’ you for twenty fuckin’ minutes.” I point at Butch on the table.

Brick approaches, unhurried. Like our guys bleed out on tables every day of the fuckin’ week. "Church at noon," he deadpans. “We’ll discuss.” He doesn’t even look at Butch. Doesn't ask what happened. Doesn't offer to help.

What the fuck is happening here? "Did you hear me? I’ve been callin’ you. We were ambushed. Someone knew the route."

Brick's face remains impassive. "Bad luck."

"Bad luck?" I echo, incredulous. "Three times in a month isn't bad luck, Brick. It's a fuckin’ pattern."

Brick’s eyes go narrow. “Are you tryin’ to say somethin’ here, Legion?” His voice is dangerously soft.

The room goes still. Diesel's hands remain steady on Butch's wound, but I can feel the tension radiating from him. Everyone is watching. Waiting to see what I’ll say.

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Property of Candyman (Kings of Anarchy MC – Tennessee #2) Read Online Jordan Marie http://www.ilovenovels.com/property-of-candyman-kings-of-anarchy-mc-tennessee-2-read-online-jordan-marie Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:53:28 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/property-of-candyman-kings-of-anarchy-mc-tennessee-2-read-online-jordan-marie Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Authors: Jordan Marie Series: Kings of Anarchy MC - Tennessee Series by Jordan Marie
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)

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Candyman is not the man to build forever on.
All he's ever known is the freedom of the road, his club, and the camaraderie of his brothers.
Women had only one use and they could come or go, he didn't really care.
As long as he got what he wanted, he'd prefer they disappear.
Until Izzy.
She changes everything.
When she turns him down.
He takes the choice out of her hands.
Izzy is his. She might fight him, but that's just going to make it more interesting for him.
(Working Blurb)

Over the top alpha
no cheating
HEA

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

1

HOW TO NOT LOSE YOUR VIRGINITY TO A MAN WHORE

IZZY

“I’ve missed you.”

I jump slightly when I hear his voice. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here—especially him. I take a deep breath and turn around to see the man I’ve been thinking about nonstop. A man I have no business letting get to me.

“Candy-boy. I didn’t think I’d see you here today.”

He smirks at my reworked nickname for him. I shouldn’t like the sparkle in his eyes, but I do—way too much. I don’t know what it is about this guy, but I can admit I’m drawn to him. Then again, I’m also drawn to chocolate, and if I ate it like I wanted to, I’d weigh five hundred pounds. Just because I like it doesn’t mean I’m going to indulge. It’s a hard lesson I learned from my childhood and one I still use today. I was what some around me used to refer to as pleasantly plump. God, I hated those words. I was in the fourth grade and weighed a hundred and twenty pounds. I was also five-six and had C-cup breasts. I began to hate my body, and as the girls in my class mocked me and the boys would whisper, snicker, and flip my bra strap, I began a downward spiral when it came to my self-worth and appeal. My immediate family loved me, but they did not know the hell that I lived through—especially the one inside my mind.

“Griff was going to bring Savage, but when I found out you were in, I came.”

I frown, letting my gaze move up and down, taking him all in. You’d be stupid not to admit that the man was hot as hell. I wasn’t usually attracted to men with lighter-colored hair. I could admit, however, that blond hair looked damn good on Caleb. I sigh because I remember his first name, even if I shouldn’t. I pretty much remember everything about him because I dream about the asshole a lot. I hate that I do, but it’s out of my hands. It’s his fault. He seriously looks like a Greek god, with long blond hair that falls just below his shoulders. It’s got a wave and curl to it that most women pay a fortune to create at a salon. His ripped body is covered in ink, and his face looks as if it was chiseled out of stone that was blessed by the gods.

He's perfection—everything that I’m not.

He’s also a player and nothing I can have. I have goals and set timelines to achieve them. I don’t have time to take a walk on the wild side. Besides, whatever Caleb’s interest in me is, it’s not the relationship I want for my future. He sees wild sex and a woman who knows the score and the ways of a biker.

He doesn’t realize that what he’d get with me is a woman who knows his world and wants to remain on the outside of it. A woman who plans on being a damn good doctor and trauma surgeon. A woman who wants a strong, steady, dependable man. A man who won’t stray and will devote himself to me and our two-point-five children.

That thought makes me smile. I read an article once that said the average happy life equates to a house in the suburbs with a picket fence, two-point-five kids, and a pet dog. I don’t know how you achieve the two-point-five. I figure it’s an average of all the families polled, but the thought makes me giggle. For my part, a devoted, stable husband, two kids—a boy and girl—and a family dog is definitely my long-term goal. Short-term? I just want to pass my exams and stay at the head of my class.

“Should I worry you know my schedule? Are you stalking me?”

Even as I ask the question, the absurdity of it makes me cringe. I don’t know the Kings of Anarchy club. They’re in Tennessee, which isn’t that far from here. My cousin Spider knows them, though. Spider is the son of Aunt Beth and Uncle Skull. We grew up together and we’re super close. More so since the death of Spider’s brother, Diego. When I told him about Caleb approaching me at Beau and BB’s house before all hell broke loose, he warned me away. I knew it anyway, but according to Spider, Caleb is definitely a player and the biggest man whore around. In fact, he’s notorious. Spider knows a guy who is pledging for the Kings, and let’s just say the description of Caleb’s exploits with the biker bunnies is enough to keep me away from him for life.

“Stalking? I prefer to call it strategically planning my next Izzy fix,” he purrs.

I shake my head. “I’m going to stop you right there. I don’t know what you have going on in that head of yours, but you need to stop.”

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Legacy of Leather and Lace Read Online Lilly Atlas http://www.ilovenovels.com/legacy-of-leather-and-lace-read-online-lilly-atlas Thu, 23 Apr 2026 22:53:19 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/legacy-of-leather-and-lace-read-online-lilly-atlas Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, MC Authors: Lilly Atlas Advertisement

Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)

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Beth grew up in the morally gray world of the Hell’s Handlers Motorcycle Club. Daughter of a legacy, surrounded by overprotective alpha bikers and fierce women who never backed down, she’s spent her whole life trying to prove she’s more than an MC princess. Smart, stubborn, and desperate to carve out her own identity, she left home determined to stand on her own. But independence comes at a price, and by the time she admits needing her family isn’t weakness, she’s trapped in a nightmare relationship that shatters her confidence and breaks something deep inside.

Saint knows what true darkness looks like. Raised in a militant cult, he learned early how to protect the vulnerable and fight with everything he has for the people he loves. As the second oldest of many siblings, responsibility is etched into his bones. So when he finds Beth in danger, he doesn’t hesitate; he pulls her out and becomes the one steady place in her crumbling world. And somewhere between watching over her and trying to keep his distance, the attraction he swore he’d never feel ignites.

She’s younger. She’s his president’s daughter. She already left the club once.
Wanting her isn’t just reckless, it’s dangerous.

As one of her father’s men, Saint is off-limits. Crossing that line could cost him everything, including the family he’s chosen. Beth refuses to be the reason Saint loses the brotherhood that saved him. But some connections are too strong to deny, and some temptations refuse to be ignored.

When enemies surface with Beth in their crosshairs, the biker who promised to stay away becomes the only man capable of burning the world down to keep her safe. And Beth, tired of being protected, tired of being told who she can be and who she can love, finally chooses her own life and her own man

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

PROLOGUE

BETH STARED AT the face in the mirror—the barely recognizable face with desolate eyes, wet with tears, and six raised welts in the shape of a man’s palm and fingers.

The skin burned, with heat spreading out from the handprint like a brand. Her throat felt too tight to draw in air, and her chest too small to hold it. A tear slid off her jaw and hit the porcelain sink, then another, and she watched it like she was witnessing someone else fall apart. Someone else trying to process their bruised face and crumbling emotions.

Shame hit her hard as it always did, rushing over her in a wave of embarrassment that heated her skin to unbearable levels and made her want to disappear off the face of the planet. If she could crawl out of her own body and into someone else’s, she would.

She could still see sixteen-year-old Beth rolling her eyes so hard they nearly got stuck, arms crossed over her chest as Maverick and Zach flanked a nervous boy named Tyler on her parents’ front porch. Tyler had come to pick her up for a movie, just a movie, and they’d made him stand there for ten whole minutes answering questions about his grades, his car’s safety rating, and whether he understood that Beth had approximately forty uncles who owned shovels and knew how to dig holes. She’d called them ridiculous. Dramatic. Embarrassing. She’d told her dad if they kept this up, they were going to scare off every guy in town, and Copper had just smiled and said, “Good.”

That Beth, the one who’d stomped her foot and told Maverick he was being a psycho, felt like a stranger now. A girl from a movie she’d watched once and barely remembered. That Beth had no idea how lucky she was to have men who cared enough to be psychos, and who would never in a million years leave a handprint on a woman’s face.

All she wanted was to crawl, maybe sprint, back into their comforting embraces. To let her big, crazy, outlaw family wrap her up, shield her from her mistakes, and erase the last year like it was nothing more than a bad dream.

But she lived in reality.

Going home meant admitting something she was too ashamed to acknowledge, even to herself, for more than a few seconds at a time. Saying the words out loud would make this real, and she was barely holding it together as it was.

Some nights, the humiliation of her situation was so thick she choked on it as she lay there rigid and silent, listening for every change in Jason’s breathing, every hitch in his snore that might mean he was waking up. The sour smell of beer on his breath drifted across the pillow, mixing with the Irish Spring soap he used every night in the shower. She used to love that scent, but now it made her stomach turn. Now it meant danger.

She’d huddle into the fetal position as close to the edge of the bed as possible without falling off, her shoulder aching, her hip going numb against the mattress. She never rolled over, never adjusted, no matter how badly her body screamed for relief. Movement might brush against him. Movement might wake him.

Hitting the floor would wake him.

Jason didn’t like to be woken in the middle of the night.

She’d made that mistake exactly one time. Her ribs still ached when she thought too hard about it.

Worse than failing the men who’d shown her exactly what a good man should be was the way she’d let down the women. If the guys had been incredible, the women she’d spent her childhood worshiping had been perfect, and they were still perfect. Each one had overcome tremendous odds and found happiness with the MC and in their relationships, including her mother.

Her mom, Shell, was the most incredible woman Beth had ever met, no exaggeration.

When her mom was only a teenager, a man named Rusty raped her, resulting in her pregnancy with Beth. As if that wasn’t traumatic enough, Rusty, may he rot in hell, had been Copper’s brother. Copper, the man Shell had loved since before she knew what romantic love was. Her mom had spent years suffering in silence with a deep, unrequited love for a man she’d feared would never love her back if he discovered the truth.

Luckily, she’d been wrong. Copper was the best man ever to walk the planet. He fell hard for both Shell and Beth, marrying her mother and becoming the best father a girl could have asked for. Another person Beth had taken for granted. He was her father in every way that mattered. Beth couldn’t say her parents’ journey to each other had been an easy road, but they’d made it and had been joined at the hip for more than fifteen years. Never once, not even for a second, had Copper treated Beth as anything other than his daughter, full stop.

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Smoke and Honey (Book of Legion – Badlands MC #4) Read Online J.A. Huss http://www.ilovenovels.com/smoke-and-honey-book-of-legion-badlands-mc-4-read-online-j-a-huss Fri, 03 Apr 2026 23:15:37 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/smoke-and-honey-book-of-legion-badlands-mc-4-read-online-j-a-huss Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Insta-Love, MC Authors: J.A. Huss Series: Book of Legion - Badlands MC Series by J.A. Huss
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Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >42

In this war between heaven and hell, someone has to bleed. Legion Kane understands this to his core. He’s spent his whole life being trailer trash with no future.
Savannah Ashby was a dream. Perfection wrapped up in designer prairie dresses and equestrian boots. An angel to his demon.
And now, she’s his savior.
But salvation looks a lot like surrender when you’re recovering under the Ashby roof. Sleeping in their guest room. Eating at their table. Watching Mercy get everything he never could’ve given her—ponies, new clothes, a bedroom with a door that locks from the inside.
Hardest part is… spoiled looks good on his baby sister.
And Ashby money is something Legion will never have

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

CHAPTER 1

My name has always felt like a warning.

Prophetic and foreboding at the same time.

There are demons inside you, Legion.

Not one or two, but Many.

We are many…

I get it. It's not a good start to life, I do agree. But at least I understand it, this demon thing. Because most people think demons are entities. Ghosts. Evil spirits.

But that's not what they are at all.

Demons are regrets. Mistakes. The time you spent off the path because even though you knew—you fucking knew—you were goin' in the wrong direction, you went anyway.

That's what a demon is. It's a mistake that turns into a regret.

And it comes due, the consequences of these mistakes.

Always. They always come due.

I wake flat on my back. My eyes crack open slow, like they're weighted with lead. The world's a blurry smear, and I blink twice, three times, strugglin’ to focus on anything solid.

Light cuts through the wooden slats above me in sharp, dusty beams. Grain dust hangs suspended in the air, swirlin’ like smoke in the morning light. Each particle catches fire in the sun—thousands of tiny stars drifting in slow circles. I've seen this ceiling before.

I smile despite the pounding in my head.

This place. This goddamn place.

Outside the silo, there's a faint sound threadin’ through the quiet—the distant buzz of a dirt bike's engine winding up and down the hills. The sound hits me in the chest harder than any fist.

That sound meant freedom once.

My first bike was a piece of shit Honda with faded plastics and a bent clutch lever, but she ran. Fifteen years old with nothing but that bike and a pocketful of hard-earned cash I'd scraped together nickel by fucking dime.

Most of the time I worked the feed barn. Stackin’ fifty-pound bags until my shoulders burned, sweepin’ out corn that stuck to my sweat-soaked skin. Sleepin’ in the loft some nights when things got too bad at home.

Builds character, hard work like that does. But more importantly, if you're fifteen and a boy who just wants to be a man, it builds muscles. I was always lean, but after that year in the feed barn, I was a monster.

In the spring and summer, I picked up work at the grain co-op. Sweepin’ out grain bins in a dust mask, sweatin’ in ninety-degree heat. Shovelin’ out pits when they got plugged up because no one else would fuckin’ do it. It was a terrible job. But it paid. Spring and summer in Drybone was like a salve over the burn of winter. It soothed ya. Made you forget about the minus-forty windchill comin’ around the corner.

Then there was the livestock auction in the fall—sortin’ calves in freezing wind, moving cattle with hot shots, walking through frozen shit.

And at the end of all that character building that gave me muscles, was the dirt bike.

It was everything to me that summer.

I can still hear it in the distance. Just for a moment, I'm fifteen again. Counting out six-hundred and seventy-five dollars in hard-earned cash. A fist-full of wrinkled bills I'd hidden in a coffee can under the trailer. That feelin’ I got when I kick started the engine the first time was somethin’ like clarity.

Somethin’ that was mine.

Bought and paid for.

Somethin’ no one could take from me.

I blink again, harder this time, trying to clear the fog from my head.

Somethin’s not right.

I try to sit up, but my body feels wrong—disconnected, like I'm wearing someone else's skin. Not painful, just... off. Like someone took me apart and put me back together with pieces missing.

I look down at my hands. They're mine. Callused palms, knuckles that have seen more fights than I can count, the faded "MERCY" inked across them. The letters worn and blurred from years of throwin' punches and grippin' handlebars. My boots are still on—scuffed leather. Jeans too, faded and ripped. Worn to perfection.

But I'm shirtless. Bare chest risin’ and fallin’ with each breath, the sprawlin’ tattoos of angels and demons locked in eternal combat across my skin, catchin’ the dim light filtering through the silo's rusted walls.

No blood. No bandages. And no brand.

I run my fingers over the spot where the Badlands B should be burned into my flesh, just above my heart. Nothing. Just smooth skin where that iron pressed against me, where Chains held that glowing metal while the brothers stomped their boots in rhythm. The place that had been raw, angry red, still weeping when Savannah touched it last night.

This has got to be a drunk blackout. Wouldn't be the first time I woke up in this silo with gaps in my memory. But this doesn't have the cotton-mouth, head-splitting quality of a hangover. No taste of stale whiskey, no churning stomach. This is somethin’ else.

How the fuck did I get here?

I close my eyes, trying to pull the pieces together from the fog. The last thing—the very last thing I remember—was lying in the bunkhouse in room 3 with Savannah's head against my shoulder. She was breathing slow and even as she drifted off. The hum of nothing in the hallway outside our door, just the distant sounds of the club settling for the night.

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