Look for Biker Babe in Black where most ebooks are sold
Cursed with bad luck, and a stubbornness that gets her nowhere, Margarine Butter wants to shed her biker gypsy lifestyle for a white picket fence and a permanent address. When Remy offers her employment, she gambled with her desire for a new life and her attraction to the millionaire. Could she keep her distance and her identity secret long enough to secure her future?
Business conglomerate, Remington Montgomery, couldn’t believe the sexy waitress with the long blonde hair turned his money down after he accidentally got her fired from her job. So, when she whacked him with her leather studded purse and rode off on a Harley Davidson, he wanted to learn more about the woman who was not impressed by the size of his wallet. But would the price of loving her be his downfall?
Excerpt
"Excuse me, Ms.?"
She screamed and fumbled for her purse strap. Strap in hand, she swung her arm in a wide circle and aimed at the voice in the shadows. Oh, God. “Stand back or I'll smack you with my leather studded bag.”
"Whoa, lady, it's me…Remy."
A dark outline of a big person stood in the shadows between two parked cars. She continued to swing her purse. She didn't know anyone named Remy, and in the dark, she aimed to disable anyone who came close enough to hurt her.
"I'm the man who got you fired." The man stepped closer. "I didn't mean to scare you."
Palms in the air, he ambled out of the shadows and into the light. Her arm fell to her side. The buckle of her purse slammed into her knee. She groaned. That's going to leave a bruise.
"What are you doing? You scared me half to death." She bent over and rubbed her knee without taking her gaze off him.
"I wanted to apologize and offer to find you another job." Remy removed his billfold from inside his suit coat and fingered the bills.
She stood back up, her pained knee forgotten, and wrinkled her nose. No way! Where the hell did he get that idea? She held her tongue and thought to herself. Do I look like a whore?
He held out his hand, dangling a fist full of dollar bills between himself and Margie. She snorted and stepped around him, disappointed that the best-looking man she'd ever met joined the ranks of just another jerk on the bumpy road of life.
Margie marched over to the light post and extracted a set of keys from her purse. She unlocked the saddlebag of her motorcycle, removed her helmet, and threw her purse in the side compartment.
Bending at the waist, she gathered her hair in a messy bun atop her head and slipped on her helmet. Remy, or whatever he called himself, didn't have a clue. She'd rather purchase an oversized, gas-guzzling, ozone-killing machine than sell her body to the highest bidder.
Margie hiked her skirt up to her thighs and straddled the leather seat. Behind the face shield, a smile came to her lips at the touch of the smooth, familiar shape between her legs. Without a second glance back to check if he still stood in the parking lot, she revved the motorcycle to life and left the man and his ego in the dust.
The handful of crisp one-hundred-dollar bills slipped out of Remy's hand, falling onto the asphalt of the parking lot. His mouth hung open, and he blinked.
"I'll be damned."
The waitress rode a Harley Davidson.
Sarah always dreamed of joining a
motorcycle gang and hitting the open road. What better way to escape a
troubled childhood filled with poverty and alcoholism than to ride out and
live a gypsy lifestyle? Her life changed the morning a biker stopped in the middle
of the road and asked if she wanted a ride.
Reefer had two rules: don’t mess
around with women who didn’t grow up riding the road, and his biker family
always came first. Nothing prepared him for the woman who hopped onto the
back of his Harley with the ease of a born rider and peeled back the layers
of his sealed heart.
Two people running from a world
full of hurt. Can they escape to find happiness or will they have to first
revisit the past?
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Excerpt
She flopped back and laid across
the tank, her arms spread wide over the handlebars, and giggled. He
grinned at her tinkling laughter.
Sweet Jesus, give me strength.
"Oh, Reefer, you have no
idea." She lost the smile on her lips and stared at the stars.
"Have you ever been alone and gazed up at the sky?"
He cleared his throat, trying to
concentrate on what she was saying and not on the sandy brown skin on her
stomach that her shirt didn’t cover. "Yeah."
"My whole life I’ve searched
that same sky. I gazed into darkness, but I connected with something much
bigger that let me know I had a place in this world. I learned someone walked
the earth beside me, but hadn’t shown himself to me yet." She sat up.
"I believe that person is you."
He shook his head in denial.
"Sarah—"
"No, don’t say it." She
placed her finger on his lips. "Remember, I told you I expect nothing
from you. These are my thoughts, the dreams I’m made from." She tapped
her chest with the palm of her hand. "I know this ends tonight, but I
want this moment to last me a lifetime."
"I don’t get involved with
someone not from the biker lifestyle, at least not seriously. I’m
sorry." Now that he’d spoken the words, a sense of guilt hit him.
"I figured. I actually know
quite a lot about bikers." She grinned. "Plus, if you shirked your
beliefs, I’d think less of you." She stole a quick kiss. "You,
Reefer, are the real deal."
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