Redline Kings MC Series by Fiona Davenport – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Redline Kings MC Series by Fiona Davenport – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com Tue, 16 Jun 2026 12:50:56 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.0 http://www.ilovenovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Redline Kings MC Series by Fiona Davenport – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.ilovenovels.com 32 32 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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Tyre (Redline Kings MC #8) Read Online Fiona Davenport http://www.ilovenovels.com/tyre-redline-kings-mc-8-read-online-fiona-davenport Wed, 20 May 2026 17:51:45 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/tyre-redline-kings-mc-8-read-online-fiona-davenport Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Novella, Virgin Authors: Fiona Davenport Series: Redline Kings MC Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40297 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)

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Ares “Tyre” Costa always kept perfect control…until the club’s cool-headed treasurer became obsessed with Cecily Hayes. But the sweet swimming instructor has Olympic dreams that may take her away from Crossbend.

Even with an outside crew trying to steal the Redline Kings’ underground racing territory, Tyre’s real battle was tearing down Cecily’s walls. She was terrified her dreams would force her to walk away, but he’s determined to claim his woman.

Thanks so much for signing up for an ARC of Cage. The book is now live on Amazon, so you're able to post your review there whenever you'd like

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

1

TYRE

My boots hit the concrete as I stepped outside of the clubhouse and walked toward the wrought iron fencing that protected the brand-new pool we’d built on the Redline Kings MC compound. As I stepped through the gate, the low murmur of brothers and their families mingled with the excited squeals of kids splashing in the sparkling water.

It seemed like a long time ago that this compound was all hard edges and grit. Then our president, Kane, met his old lady and life around here and took a drastic turn. Not for the worse, though. There was a kind of domestic joy our club had carved out of blood and sweat, and it always settled something deep inside my chest when I saw it.

Until my eyes landed on her.

I froze mid-step, every muscle going stone hard as my gaze zeroed in on the petite redhead standing at the edge of the pool. My entire world shifted abruptly, narrowed down to the woman wearing a sleek black one-piece swimsuit, her fiery hair tumbling in damp waves around her shoulders. Her skin glistened with water droplets, highlighting the sun-kissed freckles sprinkled across it.

She smiled gently down at Nitro’s—our sergeant at arms’s—daughter, Nella, carefully peeling off floaties from tiny arms. Her movements were easy, as though she'd spent her whole life in the water.

Fuck, she was beyond beautiful. Elegant and strong, every delicate movement a blend of grace and precision.

Her swimsuit hugged her body, the black fabric modest but highlighting curves I had no damn business noticing so intently. It hadn’t taken more than a moment to know this woman was too damn young for me. Yet there I was, unable to look away. Lust roared to life with sudden, relentless ferocity.

My hands fisted at my sides, possessive rage flaring hot and irrational in my gut. Several of my brothers stood nearby in swim trunks, oblivious to everything but fatherhood, laughing with their kids. Their eyes never strayed toward her, but the primal instinct in my blood didn’t give a fuck about logic or reason.

My jaw clenched so tightly it ached, the territorial hunger in me rising sharply as I watched the scene. I had the overwhelming urge to toss every single one of the men into the deep end, married or not. Not because they’d done a damn thing wrong—but because they might.

“Careful, brother.” Jax’s amused voice cut into my thoughts, his sudden presence snapping me out of the haze. “Looking like you’re ready to tear somebody’s throat out.”

“Who the fuck is she?” I grated, not bothering to hide the possessive growl in my tone. “The woman with Nella.”

If anyone knew about her, it would be Jax. The enforcer was a tech genius, and Kane didn’t let anyone within miles of the kids without them being thoroughly checked into. I was positive he’d have done her background check. Plus, Jax’s six-month-old daughter was one of the infants being taught.

Jax’s lips twitched with humor, but he wisely didn’t push too far. “That’s Cecily Hayes. She’s been doing swim lessons for club kids since Kylan was barely old enough to crawl. Grew up here, parents live in Crossbend. Been teaching swimming around here for years, when she was around. She’s an artistic swimmer, serious about the sport, too. Almost made it to the Olympics at the last games. Real sweet girl. Everyone loves her.”

I frowned, wondering how the hell I’d missed her. Though, to be fair, the kid thing wasn’t exactly my area.

“She’s been away a lot for training camps, and then the time she spent living in California to train. She probably wasn’t around often enough for you to notice.”

I shot him an annoyed glance, irritated that he’d basically read my mind. Which did nothing but cause his smirk to widen into a full-blown smile.

“She was too young for you then anyway. I think Lark mentioned that she just turned nineteen.”

My brow furrowed. “Didn’t you say she almost made the Olympics?”

That was damn impressive at only nineteen.

He nodded. “Prodigy.”

Fuck. I was too damn old for her. I would probably be a distraction from her training. And odds were good we had nothing in common.

But none of that logic cooled the raging possessiveness building in my chest. My eyes locked onto Cecily again, watching as she turned, smiling warmly at something Savannah said. Her laughter drifted toward me, the sound hitting me square in the gut like a fucking sledgehammer.

“Fuck it,” I growled under my breath, already stepping forward before my brain had fully caught up.

“Easy there, Romeo.” Jax clamped a hand on my shoulder, effectively stopping me in my tracks. “Kane needs you first. Gonna drag your ass inside before you scare the shit out of Cecily.”

I glared at him, but Jax just shook his head and gestured toward the clubhouse. “Won’t take long. She’ll be here when you’re done. Maybe let the homicidal gleam in your eyes cool down before you introduce yourself, though.”

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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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Drift (Redline Kings MC #6) Read Online Fiona Davenport http://www.ilovenovels.com/drift-redline-kings-mc-6-read-online-fiona-davenport Wed, 29 Oct 2025 22:15:47 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/drift-redline-kings-mc-6-read-online-fiona-davenport Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Erotic, MC, Novella Authors: Fiona Davenport Series: Redline Kings MC Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)

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Chance “Drift” Lawton would die before betraying a Redline Kings brother. Until Alanna Bishop came to Crossbend. She was Jax's little sister—the one woman he was never supposed to want.

But when her call for help turned desperate, keeping his distance wasn’t an option. Now Alanna is under Drift's protection—and under his skin.

A stalker from school thinks she’s his to claim. Drift is about to prove otherwise

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

1

DRIFT

The sun hung low over Crossbend, bleeding gold across the cracked asphalt of Alanna’s new apartment complex. The place wasn’t fancy—four units tucked behind a strip of oaks, paint sun-bleached to the color of old bone—but it was solid. Safe.

My motorcycle club, the Redline Kings, owned the whole building, which meant no one besides one of us laid a finger on it. The security was top-notch.

This was also one of the reasons several of my club brothers and I were helping Jax’s little sister move in, as he’d left on his honeymoon last week.

The rented moving truck’s tailgate thudded open, shaking dust loose from the hinges. I stepped forward, hands closing around the edge of a heavy box marked Kitchen Stuff-Fragile. My fingers fit easily beneath the cardboard lip. Didn’t matter that it weighed a ton; I could’ve carried it with one hand. But I didn’t. The longer it took to take the box to the apartment, the longer I got to keep my distance.

Alanna stood near the stairs, sunlight sliding through her hair like liquid gold. Loose curls brushed over her shoulders, the color bright against the soft gray tank top she wore. The fabric clung in ways I had no business noticing. She had on ripped jeans that hugged her curves and white sneakers, and there was a faint smudge of dust on her cheek from where she’d brushed a hand across her face earlier. She looked so damn alive, while I felt like something carved out of shadow.

“Sure you got that, Drift?” Axle called while he leaned against the truck door, a cold bottle of water in his hand.

I grunted, heading for the stairs. “You offering to help or just narrating?”

That earned a short laugh from Nitro, who was wrestling with a rolled rug. “Narrating. Asshole probably forgot how to lift something heavier than a diaper bag.”

Axle flipped him off, but grinned. “Fuck you. I’m supervising.”

“Yeah?” Nitro kicked at the truck door, slamming it shut with a loud bang. “Then supervise this.” He shoved the rolled rug into Axle’s chest. “Straight up the stairs, boss man.”

Their bickering filled the humid air, easy and sharp-edged. The sound of brothers who’d walked through fire together.

I didn’t join in. My silence wasn’t new. They were used to it. But today, it came with a pulse behind it. Every step up those stairs, every echo of her laugh below, tightened something inside me. The warm, throaty sound scraped down my spine like a slow drag of smoke. She was laughing at Axle trying not to trip on the rug as he cursed Nitro under his breath.

It shouldn’t have hit me the way it did. But I had no way to stop it.

I shifted the box higher, forcing my focus back to the stairs. The wooden steps creaked beneath my boots. The whole building smelled faintly of fresh paint, sawdust, and the ocean air drifting up from the coast a few miles south.

Inside, the apartment was small but bright. Pale walls, clean floors, and a couch we’d carried up earlier. Simple. Perfect for Alanna. The kind of space that would feel like freedom after years of being locked in someone else’s idea of perfection.

I set the box on the counter and wiped a streak of sweat from my temple with the back of my hand. More trickled between my shoulder blades, and my shirt clung to my shoulders, the black cotton damp and stretched tight.

She came in behind me, carrying a plant in a chipped terracotta pot. “That goes in the kitchen?”

“Yeah,” I said, stepping aside.

Her smile flickered, uncertain. “You don’t have to do all the heavy lifting, Drift.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I know, but—” She hesitated, setting the plant down beside the box. “You’ve been at this for hours.”

“So have you.”

Her laugh came out soft and husky, cracking something in my chest. “Touché.”

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her nails were painted a pale pink, and her skin glowed with the faintest sheen of sweat. I shouldn’t have noticed that.

There was a tiny freckle at the corner of her mouth. I shouldn’t have noticed that either.

Or the way the light caught her eyes—same steel-gray as Jax’s but softer. It damn near took the air out of my lungs.

Fuck.

I turned away, yanking open another box before I did something stupid, like stare too long. “Where do you want these dishes?”

“Cabinet by the sink.” Her voice followed me as I walked into the kitchen, light and careful. Trying to fill the silence I kept throwing at her.

Behind us, the others were still moving around. Edge thumped what sounded like a chair leg against the floor. “You sure this thing’s stable?”

“Stable as you,” Nitro shot back.

“That’s not fucking reassuring,” Rev snorted.

Edge, our VP, was as loyal as they came, a leader I’d follow anywhere, and a genius when it came to weapons. But he was also just a little bit psycho, which made him somewhat…unstable at times.

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Jax (Redline Kings MC #5) Read Online Fiona Davenport http://www.ilovenovels.com/jax-redline-kings-mc-5-read-online-fiona-davenport Sun, 12 Oct 2025 20:52:23 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/jax-redline-kings-mc-5-read-online-fiona-davenport Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Virgin Authors: Fiona Davenport Series: Redline Kings MC Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)

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Jaxton “Jax” Bishop was the Redline Kings’ hacker and enforcer. The one who saw everything, missed nothing, and trusted no one except his club. Until her.
Lark Whittaker was supposed to be just another hire. But the second Jax saw her face, every alarm in his body went off. Her file was too neat. Her story too clean. And the pull between them too explosive to ignore.
When digging into Lark’s past put a target on her back, Jax only has one choice—claim her, protect her, and burn down anyone who tries to take her away

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

1

JAX

Torque Ridge was only one of the raceways owned by Kane, the president of my MC, the Redline Kings. It was alive the way it always was before a race. Loud as sin, hot under the floodlights, engines tuned so tight you could feel the vibration in your teeth. The scent of burned rubber and hot metal was thick in the air. Pit crews moved like ants, hauling gas cans and toolboxes and cussing at each other over the noise—the soundtrack of our lives.

Damn, it was hot. August in Florida was like walking on the fucking sun in the rain.

I strolled past my VP’s car, tablet balanced in my hand, glasses catching the light. With a grin I couldn’t resist tugging at my mouth, I gave him a lazy two-finger salute, then flipped my ball cap around backward. “Try not to kill anyone out there, Edge. I don’t feel like spending my night wiping you off the asphalt.”

His eyes narrowed, green flashing under the glare, but I caught the corner of his mouth twitching before he looked away.

Kane stepped into my path like a brick wall with a red beard, shoving a sheet of paper into my chest. “Background check. New hire.”

I caught it against my tablet with a grunt, thumb already waking the screen as I scanned the name. My fingers tapped on instinct, calling up the basics while I walked. This was routine. I’d done it a hundred times.

Three steps later, my brain stopped processing the noise around me.

The picture loaded.

Dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail, a pair of big eyes that were soft and sharp at the same time. Light brown, warm, like they’d see right through you and not apologize for it. Full mouth that wasn’t smiling but looked like it might if you gave her half a reason.

Something inside me snapped tight, like a switch being thrown. My body recognized her before my brain had time to name the feeling. Heat shot straight south, hard and fast. I nearly stumbled, covering it with a shift of my grip on the tablet, jaw clenching while my cock pressed hard against my jeans.

What the fuck.

It had been years since I reacted to a woman. Lust wasn’t new, but this was instant, overwhelming, and bone deep. Actually, I’d never had a reaction quite like this before. It was annoying and unwelcome. Something I didn’t have fucking time for.

I stopped mid-step, head jerking back up, my eyes cutting to Kane. Holding up the screen, I kept my voice flat because anything else would’ve given me away. “This is your new hire?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. Of course not.

“Fuck.” It came out twisted and low, my mouth curling like the word tasted worse than it was. I snapped the tablet shut and stalked off without saying anything else, heat still burning under my skin, pissed at myself for letting a photo hit me that hard.

The noise of Torque Ridge fell away as I cut back across the pits. Engines revved and metal clanged. Edge barked something smart-assed to Drift, and Kane stood like the storm he always was, arms crossed, eyes tracking every moving piece like a chessboard only he understood. I barely noticed any of it. My brain was still on the picture.

Her picture.

By the time I reached my bike, my tablet was tucked under my arm, and my jaw was tight enough to crack teeth. My cock was still half hard, and that pissed me off more than anything. I fired the Harley up and took the long way back, letting the night air slap at me. Hoping it would knock some fucking sense into me.

Crossbend blurred past, dark stores, neon bleeding against black sky as I drove past The Burnout—a bar owned by the MC. Laughter and bass beats spilled out onto the cracked sidewalks. Not in the mood for anything except solitude, I didn’t stop.

The compound waited a few blocks off the main drag, the clubhouse a slab of brick and steel surrounded by the familiar sprawl of bikes under security lights. The compound always smelled faintly of smoke, oil, and whatever someone was cooking to keep the brothers’ stomachs full.

Inside, the noise shifted from the chaos of race night to the deeper hum of home. A few voices drifted from the common room—laughter, cards slapping wood, and a low curse at a bad hand. I didn’t pause. Didn’t give the guys a chance to look too close at my face.

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Edge (Redline Kings MC #4) Read Online Fiona Davenport http://www.ilovenovels.com/edge-redline-kings-mc-4-read-online-fiona-davenport Sun, 12 Oct 2025 20:51:48 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/edge-redline-kings-mc-4-read-online-fiona-davenport Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Virgin Authors: Fiona Davenport Series: Redline Kings MC Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)

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Tatum “Edge” Beckett wasn’t just the Redline Kings VP—he was their secret weapon. A lethal arms specialist with a smile like sin and eyes that promised pain. But the moment Callie Winslow landed in his path, Edge found the one thing he couldn’t afford to lose.

She never meant to draw his attention, but a stumble into his bike sealed her fate. And when his enemies want to use Callie against him, Edge will prove why everyone fears his name

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

CHAPTER 1

BRANCH

A few months prior . . .

“This is why you’re hot.”

“Really?” I sit back, lifting a water bottle to my lips and smirk. My eyes don’t leave hers. “I had no idea.”

That’s a lie. This look, the one that’s currently melting her panties straight off her teeny little waist, has worked in my favor since I discovered it at the ripe old age of fourteen. Should it have worked on my math teacher? Probably not. But it did make acing algebra about a hundred times easier. I could use it then without even really knowing what I was doing. Now, with fifteen years of experience under my belt, I can play this look like a fiddle.

Fanning her face with a stack of index cards outlining the questions she’s supposed to ask me for Exposé Magazine—something I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing—she blinks rapidly. “Tell me something no one knows about you.”

I place the bottle on the little table beside me and shift in my seat. Her last question is the only question that is asked in every single interview I’ve ever done. Every last one. And they all think it’s so original.

I used to humor reporters and give them something to print, but in the last couple of years, I’ve thought better of it. Maybe my self-promotion has gotten better. Maybe there’s less to tell (since they already know so damn much). Or maybe I’m simply a little more cynical than I used to be. Either way, I loathe this question. It’s like just because I’m a public figure they’re entitled to every detail of my life.

“Branch,” she gulps, her cheeks turning a shade of crimson, “my notes from this interview aren’t going to be very . . . helpful.”

“And why is that?”

She refuses to look at me.

“Let me see your notes,” I say, reaching for the index cards.

“Um, no.”

“Oh, come on,” I tease. “What’s on there?”

“Just . . . I need something substantial so I don’t get fired.” The slightly pouty lips, dipped chin is a look women give me all the time.

“Nice tactic.”

“Tactic?”

“Yeah. You’re appealing to my emotions.”

“I don’t know what else to appeal to.”

Roaming my eyes down her face to the low-cut blouse that showcases a nice set of B-cups, I let them linger for a long couple of seconds before bringing them back to her eyes. I lift a brow. “I’m sure you have no idea other than appealing to my . . . emotions.”

“Well . . .” Her gaze drops to the paper on her lap as she turns an even deeper shade of red.

“How many interviews have you done?”

“Total? Or sports?”

“Total.”

“Five,” she admits with a sigh. “I only got this one because the sports writer got meningitis.”

“So you’re here by default?” I ask, leaning forward. My arms resting on my knees, I clasp my hands in front of me.

“No. I’m here because I begged for the opportunity.”

“To interview me?” I nudge.

“Something like that.”

“Do you beg often?”

Her tongue darts across her lips, leaving a trail of wetness. “Only when necessary.”

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. There’s something about the gesture, a tinge of normalcy behind the overt sexiness, that makes me reconsider. As I try to talk myself out of giving in, I also wrack my brain for some fun fact that can help her save her job just in case she’s not feeding me a load of shit like I suspect she is.

“I hate dogs.”

Her eyes light up like a scoreboard. “You hate dogs?”

“I know, I know—this is a complete asshole thing to say. I get it. But the Blaney’s Doberman left a lasting mark on more things than the back of my right thigh. For some people, it’s clowns. For me, it’s four-legged beasts. To each their own.”

Her pen flurries across a legal pad, the sound reminiscent of Coach’s dry erase marker on the whiteboard at practice. “What else do you hate?”

“Oh, no. I gave you one thing,” I say, not falling into her trap.

“What do you love then?”

“My mama.”

The door leading into the makeshift interview room opens. Finn Miller struts in, yanking a pair of sunglasses off his face. “Ready, Party Boy?” he grins.

“Yeah, I think we’re done here.” I look back at the reporter as she gulps. “Got what you need?”

“More or less,” she says slowly, innuendo thick in her tone.

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Nitro (Redline Kings MC #3) Read Online Fiona Davenport http://www.ilovenovels.com/nitro-redline-kings-mc-3-read-online-fiona-davenport Thu, 25 Sep 2025 16:05:05 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/nitro-redline-kings-mc-3-read-online-fiona-davenport Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Virgin Authors: Fiona Davenport Series: Redline Kings MC Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >40

Torin “Nitro” Addis never lost control…until a rookie rider blew past his recruits and pulled off her helmet.

Jana Jennings wanted a place in the underground circuit, not a distraction. Getting tangled up with a possessive biker was the last thing she needed, but every clash with Nitro only burned hotter.

Jana’s secrets could destroy everything, and someone in the shadows wants her gone. But Nitro doesn’t back down from a fight. Especially not when the prize is the woman he’s already claimed as his

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

1

NITRO

The shadows of Crossbend had their own pulse. You felt it in the humid press of hot air, in the greasy tang of exhaust hanging over cracked asphalt, in the way men leaned on hoods with smokes dangling and bets exchanged in low voices. Tonight wasn’t about the sanctioned tracks or Kane’s empire with polished sponsors and shiny press crews. This was the side of his empire that the Redline Kings MC ran. It was the underbelly—the kind of racing that sifted out posers, stripped flesh from bone, and showed you who belonged.

Drivers proved themselves at the Shadow Tryout.

And three of my recruits had just gotten their asses handed to them by someone no one fucking knew. Who drove like they had no sense of mortality.

I leaned against the chain-link barrier, one boot braced, arms folded across my chest. My jaw worked hard as the roar of the last lap thundered around the makeshift track carved out of an abandoned industrial lot at the edge of town. The floodlights mounted to scaffolding cut swaths through the night air, catching the haze of burnt rubber and oil.

My boys should’ve owned this. They’d been training on the circuit for weeks, memorizing braking curves, feeling out weight shifts. I’d tweaked their fuel mix myself, tuned the engines with precision. They weren’t Kane’s polished pros, but they weren’t wet behind the ears either.

But whoever the hell that “rookie” was had just smoked them. Not by an inch. By a full two car lengths. Clean. Precise. Like they’d been born behind the fucking wheel.

Beside me, Kane let out a low chuckle, beard twitching with the ghost of a grin and a flick of amusement in his green eyes as the checkered flag dropped.

“Tell me I didn’t just waste six months on those assholes,” I muttered as the last run clocked in on the big digital timer overhead.

The rookie’s numbers were brutal. Clean. No wasted motion. The kind of time you couldn’t fake.

“Looks like they need a remedial course, brother.”

His tone was casual, but there was steel underneath. As president of the Redline Kings, Kane was powerful, feared, and known for being merciless when it came to protecting his family—by patch, blood, or property vest.

But he’d already carried that power before he ever established our MC. He was a fucking billionaire who ruled the racing world—above and underground—like the Mafia. He could strip a man down with nothing but his silence, and right now, he enjoyed watching me lose. It rarely happened.

On Kane’s other side, Edge smirked. Leaning one shoulder against the chain-link fence, our club’s VP flipped his knife open and shut like a kid fidgeting with a toy. He wore that easy grin, the one that meant he was filing the whole thing away to needle me later. “Hate to say it, Nitro, but you look like someone kicked your puppy.”

“Fuck off.” I shot him a flat glare. “Maybe if you spent more time training instead of playin’ pocket-knife origami, you’d know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

It was a bullshit comment since we both knew Edge was one of the best drivers in the business.

His chuckle held no humor. “Careful, brother. Keep snarlin’ like that, and people are gonna think you care.”

I flicked him a side-eye, my mouth tightening. “Cute. Want me to build a charge for that mouth of yours? Bet you’d stop running it once your lips are on the ceiling.”

Edge grinned. “See? Volatile as ever.”

Kane’s smile widened, the cool amusement of a man who already knew he’d win whatever fight we tried to start. “Easy, Nitro. Don’t blow up the kid’s confidence before we even meet him.”

I exhaled slowly through my nose. Volatile—yeah, they liked to call me that. My road name was Nitro, for fuck’s sake. However, it was more about my tendency to make things go boom than a reflection of my personality. I could definitely resemble chaos incarnate in the workshop with my wire scraps, detonator switches, and grease-streaked schematics. But when it came time to flip the switch and set that motherfucker off, I was ice cold. Unflappable. And they fucking knew it. That was one of the reasons I was sergeant at arms for the Redline Kings.

It was the same when I raced. My precision came from street wars, not sponsors. When I drove, my vehicle was an extension of me—fast, sharp, and surgical.

Yet I’d somehow failed to teach it to these shitheads who’d possibly cost me a fucking grand. Axle, our road captain and a world-class driver, had bet me that at least one of my recruits would crumble under the pressure. A loss didn’t mean buckling…but if they didn’t take it like men, he’d be at my door to collect the second I got back to the clubhouse.

Engines cooled as cars rolled back into the pit zone, headlights cutting through the heat shimmer. A couple of people in the crowd pressed closer, hungry for a look at the new hotshot. My recruits climbed out of their cars, ripping their helmets off, expressions dark, as though someone had just pissed in their fuel tanks.

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Axle (Redline Kings MC #2) Read Online Fiona Davenport http://www.ilovenovels.com/axle-redline-kings-mc-2-read-online-fiona-davenport Sat, 30 Aug 2025 08:42:17 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/axle-redline-kings-mc-2-read-online-fiona-davenport Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Virgin Authors: Fiona Davenport Series: Redline Kings MC Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >49

Mason “Axle” Novak lived for speed, danger, and loyalty. All he wanted was to be out on the track. Until Ashlynn Bahr crashed into his life—literally.

Her job was supposed to be easy. Deliver the package. Get paid. Walk away. But when bullets started flying, Ashlynn raced blindly into the Redline Speedway. And straight into Axle’s arms.

Now Ashlynn holds the key to a dangerous secret…and Axle would do whatever it took to protect what’s his

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

1

ASHLYNN

Iwas nearly finished with an illustration for a social media challenge to draw a beach scene in your style when the light shifted through the blinds. It caught the edge of my tablet screen, making me blink.

Crap.

I’d meant to stop a while ago, but I’d gotten too focused on the texture of the sand and completely lost track of time.

After setting the tablet aside, I leaned back and stretched, cracking my neck. My stomach growled, and I took that as my cue to break for lunch.

After padding into the kitchen to make a sandwich, I grabbed my laptop and settled on the floor in front of the coffee table. Taking a big bite, I activated my VPN and opened my secure browser. Then I headed to the dark website for an information broker I’d worked with before to see if they had a job for me.

Their site was a digital fortress with multifactor tokens and masked routing protocols. Half the work was just logging in, but it was worth navigating the maze because the privacy kept me safe and the jobs gave me the flexibility I needed to pursue my dream of becoming a professional illustrator.

The courier gigs I picked up were anonymous, but I still didn’t take any that were illegal. Which was why this particular broker was my favorite—they dealt in information, not product. So I didn’t need to worry about moving drugs or guns without being aware of what was in the package when I accepted an assignment from them.

I took another bite of my sandwich while I watched as the onion layers peeled back and the familiar login screen loaded. Using my code name and cryptographic handshake, I got in. And grinned when I saw a new job offer posted to my account.

Whoa.

One that paid way more than usual.

Ten thousand dollars for a simple courier run. It was enough to cover me for the next four or five months, which made it both suspicious and tempting.

I skimmed the details. The need for secrecy and speed made me feel a little better about the amount offered. The only thing that gave me pause was the drop-off location—a remote boatyard east of Tallahassee.

The pickup spot sealed it, though. I’d been to the same building several times before, so I knew they dealt in tech of some kind. And had gobs of money, judging by their mirrored glass and steel headquarters that had a ridiculous amount of marble inside and a sculpture in the middle of the lobby that probably cost more than my car.

Reminding myself that I’d never had an issue with a job for this broker, I accepted the offer, gave them a timeframe for when I expected to arrive at the boatyard, and got ready to head out.

My nerves eased a little as I walked in like I belonged, bypassed the elevator bank, and headed straight for the front desk. The receptionist’s smile was polite but impersonal. “How can I help you today?”

I kept my voice low. “Pickup code nine-seven-six.”

My lack of greeting didn’t bother her. She just tapped the glass countertop and requested, “Scan in here, please.”

I reached into my jacket and pulled out my burner phone. I kept it in a locker at a gym across town from my house. I didn’t even work out there, but the manager was happy to let me use the locker as long as I slipped him fifty bucks every month.

I pulled up the QR code sent by the broker and held the screen over the embedded scanner. The device beeped once.

The receptionist turned, crouched beneath the desk, and came back up with a slim, brown-paper-wrapped package. There was no label or markings of any kind.

“Thanks.” I accepted it from her and walked out.

Keeping my focus on the ten grand, I didn’t hesitate as I hopped in my car and turned toward the outskirts of the city, heading straight for the drop.

Traffic was light, so I reached the boatyard fifteen minutes early. Being ahead of schedule gave me time to make sure I wasn’t being followed.

I cruised past the entrance once, taking note of the long chain-link fence and the wide gate standing open. There was no security booth or cameras I could see. Just open access to anyone who wandered in.

At the corner, I made a slow turn and looped back, scanning my rearview and side mirrors. Nobody was behind me, but I still parked half a block away and walked in. Fishing nets hung like cobwebs from rusting cranes. A few hulking boat hulls sat propped on blocks, their paint flaking in strips. Shadows pooled under the skeletal frame of a half-collapsed warehouse at the far end.

I picked a spot with a clear view of the gate and warehouse door. The package was clutched in my hands, and my burner phone was in easy reach.

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Kane (Redline Kings MC #1) Read Online Fiona Davenport http://www.ilovenovels.com/kane-redline-kings-mc-1-read-online-fiona-davenport Sat, 16 Aug 2025 22:26:43 +0000 http://www.ilovenovels.com/kane-redline-kings-mc-1-read-online-fiona-davenport Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Insta-Love, MC, Virgin Authors: Fiona Davenport Series: Redline Kings MC Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >36

Kane Beckett built his billion-dollar empire from the asphalt up, ruling the underground racing circuit with a ruthless grip. Finding the traitor leaking intel to dirty cops should’ve been easy…until the suspect’s sister rolled into town asking questions.

Savannah Quincy came to Crossbend for answers. Getting kidnapped by the Redline Kings MC president wouldn’t stop her. Neither would falling for Kane—the man who might destroy her brother

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

1

SAVANNAH

My back ached, and my hair smelled like espresso, but at least I drank more than my fair share of coffee during my shift. Even better, the tips were actually decent today. A double win, as far as I was concerned.

“You probably should’ve skipped that last triple-shot latte,” Dory murmured as she flipped the Closed sign on the front door of Bean There Brewed That.

Our shift ended forty minutes ago, but we’d stayed late scrubbing the milk steamer because the new hire left a trail of destruction in her wake.

I shook my head. “Nah, I need the caffeine if I’m going to get any studying done tonight.”

“I don’t know how you manage to get anything done after a day like today.” Dory patted me on the back. “But I have no doubt you’ll ace that exam. You’re too determined for anything else.”

“I hope you’re right,” I mumbled as she locked the door behind us.

Summer was already halfway over, and I still didn’t feel even remotely prepared for my paralegal certification exam. Working full-time at the café ate up too much of my time, but bills didn’t pay themselves. And my parents were firm believers that their job was done once their children graduated from high school, so I was on my own. Just like my older brother had been when he joined the police academy more than a decade ago.

Except Devon had been lucky enough to live in our childhood home until he could afford a small house. Unfortunately for me, our parents were antsy to get away once I turned eighteen. With the twelve-year gap between my brother and me, they could barely wait to be empty nesters. So they sold the house a few months after my high school graduation and used that money to purchase a cabin on a fifteen-year, residential cruise to just about every port in the world. Which meant that I needed to earn enough to pay for somewhere to live while studying as much as I could.

I waved goodbye to Dory, trudged across the lot to my beat-up sedan, and slumped into the driver’s seat. I’d parked under a tree and left the windows cracked, but it still felt like an oven. Cranking the AC, I pulled my hair into a messy bun and drove home.

My apartment was only five minutes away, a tiny upstairs unit above a florist shop on the main road in downtown Wedgewood, my hometown. The walk up the narrow outdoor staircase wasn’t fun after a long shift, but the second I got inside, I kicked off my shoes, chugged a glass of water, and collapsed onto the couch. All I wanted to do was stretch out and take a nap, but I couldn’t afford to skip my studying.

Snagging my study guide, I flipped to the civil procedures section and grabbed a highlighter. Quickly getting lost in the intricacies of the service of pleadings, motions, and discovery, it was almost midnight before I got up again.

I decided to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and I couldn’t help but think about my brother as I took the first bite because he used to make them for me as an afternoon snack when I was in middle school.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. We hadn’t talked much lately, and I hated how that gnawed at me. Devon used to be the first person I called when things got tough. But he’d been distant lately, and I had no idea why.

A knock on the door made me jump, peanut butter smearing across my cheek as I fumbled with the sandwich.

It was almost midnight. Nobody ever visited this late…unless something was wrong. My pulse leaped as I considered all the things that could’ve happened to Devon as a patrol officer. Dropping my plate on the counter, I raced over to the front window, trying to peer through the blinds. Relief flooded me when I saw the figure standing under the porch light.

I yanked the door open. “What the heck, Dev? You scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry, Sis.” My brother raked his fingers through his hair. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” I stepped aside to let him in, noticing how bad he looked. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, as if he’d gotten even less sleep than me. His uniform was wrinkled instead of perfectly pressed like usual. And his shoes looked as though they hadn’t been polished in weeks.

“You look like hell,” I muttered.

His mouth curved into a tired smile. “Gee, thanks.”

He perched on the arm of the couch.

“Okay.” I shut the door and leaned against it. “You wanna tell me what’s going on, or should I start guessing?”

“I’m fine. Just realized it’s been a while and wanted to check in.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Try again.”

Devon dragged a hand down his face and let out a rough sigh. “I’m under internal review.”

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