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About the author:
I love to cook, listen to music, but my real passion is reading and writing. I've always loved to write. I would mostly write poetry in my high school years. I put my writing on the back burner until recently.
But I could get lost in a good book. MC Romances are by far my go-to book. Reading has always been a way for me to relax.
I've been writing down little outlines for potential books for years. I had a friend look over a couple of drafts and ask why I never gave writing a chance?
I told him I didn't think my writing was good enough. I wrote the first few chapters of the book and gave them to him to read, and later that night, he was calling to ask if I had any more he could read. So I figured it was time branch out. I hope you all enjoy my work.
What inspired you to write your book?
I've always been fascinated with motorcycles. I remember the first time I rode one and although I was scared out of my mind just beneath that was a feeling of freedom. A feeling that could almost make you believe that you were flying. A feeling that makes you believe that you could do anything.
Here is a short sample from the book:
I don't have time to put too much thought into it because I'm running late, so I pick up my pace to get to a phone. The gates are open, but I don't see anyone around. Realizing I'll have to knock on the door, I straightened my back and prayed to God that I make it out of here alive and in one piece. I've never been around a Motorcycle gang. Still, I've watched "Sons of Anarchy" before, and it's never a good idea to walk up to a clubhouse uninvited. Damn, I think I'm going to be killed.
I knock on the door, but no one answers. So, I hit a little louder, and I hear someone yell, "Whoever's on the other side of that door better be a stripper, or I'm going to put you in your grave." I'm already backing up, getting ready to run for my life when the door swings open, and a beast of a man is standing in the doorway. He's built like a linebacker with muscles that make him look like he can bench press a car. He's also not wearing a shirt.
I stopped in my tracks, staring at him with my mouth slightly hanging open. There's a big ass Death Reaper tattoo on his chest with a scythe in hand standing over a dead body. It's a magnificent piece of artwork, but it's still scary as hell. I'm brought out of my stupor when he says, "You have a pretty mouth. If you open it a little wider, I can fill it for you."
I laughed at that and responded with, "Yeah, with the way you are built, I might have to break my jaw first." I immediately slap a hand of my mouth because that was not what was meant to come out. Now it was his turn to laugh. He looks at me and his eyes light up. I don't know why, but I don't have to wait long to find out. He says, "You're the girl that was singing into your hairbrush yesterday."