River Reapers MC Quarantine Chronicles: “Another Terrifying Prospect”

I never set out to be a father. When I met Esther, I had no idea there were three little girls attached to her. As soon as I realized how important she was to me, she revealed her sisters—three of the most important people in her life, and so, by extension, in mine. There’s an elegant, furious energy to these four creatures I live with. But this pandemic has me doubting everything I once knew.

“Another Terrifying Prospect”
A River Reapers MC Short Story

Author’s Note: Have you been wondering how the River Reapers would handle social distancing? I have! So I wrote a few very short stories, just for fun, just for you and me. The following is unedited, so please excuse any typos or errors. Please also be aware that it may contain spoilers for the series.


Donny

Three nearly identical faces glare back at me in defiance, chins lifted, brown eyes blazing, lips quivering. The smallest face—the one that belongs to the five-year-old who used to be my partner in crime—screws up, readying a scream to be unleashed.

“I wanna go to the park!” Ximena screeches, the remainder of her baby fat rippling as she shakes her arms.

I squeeze my eyes shut against the impending headache. This is how it’s been for the past few weeks. At first, we made it fun. Esther and I set up tents in the backyard, roasted marshmallows with the girls in a brand new fire pit we built together, and slept under the stars.

“Jimmy,” I say, opening my eyes and keeping my voice low and calm. She slams her fists against the table, a boom boom boom in protest, the breakfast silverware jumping against plates. The little girl ignores me, because of course she does. Why on Earth would she listen to me—a man—in the middle of the second traumatic event of her short life?

I never set out to be a father. When I met Esther, I had no idea there were three little girls attached to her. As soon as I realized how important she was to me, she revealed her sisters—three of the most important people in her life, and so, by extension, in mine. Usually, I take it all in stride: the tantrums (Jimmy), the screaming matches (Cierra and Abril, who are fourteen and eleven, so there will always be fighting), and the estrogen pool I live in. Not gonna lie, I kinda love it. There’s an elegant, furious energy to these four creatures I live with. But this pandemic has me doubting everything I once knew.

I’m a warrior. I’m not meant to sit tight in my castle, surrounded by unhappy women, my hands and guns useless while the virus rages outside, sweeping away life as we knew it.

I can’t fix this. I can’t make the park safe, keep my girls in a bubble. We’ve stayed home since before the executive orders. Esther’s grandparents are high risk, and we’re their only access to groceries and prescriptions. Safety became our religion before the governor’s ink even dried. But the girls don’t understand it. The only thing they understand is their usually cool resident male says no a lot, and their oldest sister does, too.

Maybe we haven’t said no enough.

It’s hard to tell them anything other than yes after what they’ve been through. I look at these girls and even though I’m annoyed by Jimmy’s still pounding fists, all I feel is the overwhelming urge to protect them. It’s a daily cracking open of my chest, a widening of my heart, exposed and willing to take a bullet for them—even if it was one of them holding the gun. It’s fucking terrifying, especially knowing that Esther wants a child of our own someday.

I want it too, more than anything. I want the whole package with Esther—another terrifying prospect. She whirled into my life and blew the dust off me, sifted through my contents until she memorized every word, and then put her hand in mine and led me into her heart. I never stood a chance.

She pads into the kitchen, casting a stern look at Ximena and then softening when her gaze lands on me. “Just another morning,” she quips, settling onto my lap and wrapping her arms around my neck.

“Ay, ew,” Cierra says, and Abril joins her chorus.

Grinning, I encircle Esther in my arms, plunking a big wet kiss on her forehead, then a soft kiss on her nose. Zeroing in on her lips, I engulf them with mine, giving the girls more reasons to groan and gag. Except it doesn’t take long before those turn into giggles, and soon we’re all laughing, because even in the worst of times, love can turn a mood around.

THE END


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River Reapers MC Quarantine Chronicles

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River Reapers MC Series

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River Reapers MC Quarantine Chronicles

Have you been wondering how the River Reapers would handle social distancing? I have! So I wrote a few very short stories, just for fun, just for you and me. Here are all the shorts in the mini series!

    1. “Zoom This” (Olivia)
    2. “Something Real” (Vaughn)
    3. “The Most Badass Thing” (Skid)
    4. “This Whole Time” (Stixx)
    5. “Another Terrifying Prospect” (Donny)
    6. “Tigers and Twin Flames” (Lucy)
    7. “One Way or Another” (Abraham)
    8. “More Than I Can Hold” (Ravage) | NSFW
    9. “Shelter in Place” (Beer Can) | NSFW
    10. “The Sound of Waves” (Bree)
    11. “A Sense of Purpose” (Mark)

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River Reapers MC Quarantine Chronicles

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River Reapers MC Series

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River Reapers MC Quarantine Chronicles: “This Whole Time”

That’s another thing about plants. You almost always get a do-over.

It doesn’t work that way with people.

“This Whole Time”
A River Reapers MC Short Story

Author’s Note: Have you been wondering how the River Reapers would handle social distancing? I have! So I wrote a few very short stories, just for fun, just for you and me. The following is unedited, so please excuse any typos or errors. Please also be aware that it may contain spoilers for the series.


Stixx

When the whole world stopped, I realized I’ve been standing still this whole time.

My day in isolation starts exactly the same as every day before. My alarm goes off, a Pantera song dragging me from the murk of sleep. Shoving the blankets off, I stumble out of bed, drawn through halls filled with vines and leaves toward the promise of coffee. “Morning, Christine,” I greet the African violet on the windowsill. The Keurig sputters, spitting coffee into the mug I dropped and chipped last week. If Margit were here, she’d tell me it’s no big deal. But she isn’t here, and it is.

I’m supposed to be taking care of this place, not wrecking it.

I stroke the violet’s fuzzy leaves, murmuring to her the way Margit taught me. “You’re doing so well,” I croon, pleased. If someone told me I’d be keeping difficult plants alive a few years ago, I’d have laughed in their face.

“Not that you’re difficult,” I tell Christine. “You just need the right conditions to thrive.” I sip my black coffee. I ran out of sugar a week ago. I could just go out and get some, but I don’t need it. I don’t need anything, not really, not anymore.

Except . . .

Grabbing the full watering can by the sink, I begin my rounds. Margit had a careful system, one I try to follow as closely as possible. I don’t want to shock her babies. They—and I suppose me, too—are her legacy, the only living proof that she existed.

“Hey Sarah,” I greet a lemon tree. Leaning forward, I inhale the fresh, citrus scent. “You’re almost there, girl.” The bright yellow fruits hanging from the limbs complement the orange and red tattoos that cover almost every inch of skin I’ve got. Together, Sarah and I are fire in motion. She hasn’t been easy, either. She won’t bear any fruit unless I do exactly as Margit said.

Sometimes, it’s overwhelming.

I visit the succulents next, bidding them all good morning before turning to my favorite, Cherish, the last echeveria I’ve managed to keep alive. Soon I’ll be able to propagate her and it’ll be like I never moved them too far from the sun. That’s another thing about plants. You almost always get a do-over.

It doesn’t work that way with people.

With people, what’s done is done. I’ve made choices and now those reflect on me. I decided to get the tattoos, to cultivate the scary biker look so that no one would fuck with me. I decided to isolate myself in a house full of plants named after women. The only woman I want would never give me a first look, never mind a second.

It’s all my fault.

I water the row of snake plants last, stopping at the tallest. Running the pads of my fingers up and down its strong striped leaves, I trace the almost yellow outline. “Morning, Cassie.” I sigh. “She was on the Zoom call,” I tell the plant. “For a second, I got to hear her voice, and I swear, Cass, that’s more than enough to get me through this. But if this ever ends, I’m going to make my move. I’m going to say, ‘Hello, Lucy.’ Solid plan, right?”

Even though there’s a light breeze outside, the snake plants remain still, the whole house holding its breath.

THE END


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River Reapers MC Quarantine Chronicles: “The Most Badass Thing”

That’s another new development—I’m talking to myself. I’ve never been in prison, but I’m starting to see why Mercy and Cliff are so fucked in the head.

“The Most Badass Thing”
A River Reapers MC Short Story

Author’s Note: Have you been wondering how the River Reapers would handle social distancing? I have! So I wrote a few very short stories, just for fun, just for you and me. The following is unedited, so please excuse any typos or errors. Please also be aware that it may contain spoilers for the series.


Skid

I’ve been up since 5 a.m. and I’ve already watched all five Die Hard movies. I stare at the credits, the haze of alcohol pumping the truth through my veins.

I’ve finished Netflix.

There’s nothing else to watch.

I’ve even watched that God damn Tiger King show. What a waste that was. At first it was amusing; I got a kick watching a bunch of assholes running around, trying to build an empire. It sort of reminded me of the early days of the MC, before the shit hit the fan, before any of us knew better. Then I just felt sorry for the animals. Me—a biker with a mean road rash scar running down half his body.

It must’ve been the Jack Daniels.

I usually go for top shelf, but the packy was all out, and I’m running out of money. If I don’t go back to work soon, I’m fucked.

We all are.

I ain’t thinking about that right now, though. It’s too fucking depressing.

“All right, Netflix,” I slur, scrolling through the home screen. “What else you got?”

There isn’t anything else, though. At least, not in my usual genre—which is the blow ’em up, shoot ’em up kind of movie.

Maybe it’s time to make a change. I might be getting older, but I can reinvent myself any time.

That is definitely the cheap whiskey talking.

I’ll never fucking change. It’s my curse.

I hold my finger down on the button. I’ll just stop at random, and whatever it lands on, that’s what I’m watching. I’ve still got a half a bottle, and for now my bladder’s empty. I’m in prime condition for trying something new.

Releasing my finger, I take stock of what I’ve chosen.

“To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before. What the fuck is this?” I ask nobody.

That’s another new development—I’m talking to myself. I’ve never been in prison, but I’m starting to see why Mercy and Cliff are so fucked in the head.

I sneer at the pink and sugary teen chick flick. It sounds so fucking stupid. But it might knock me out, and that would definitely kill some time.

I hit the play button.

Two seconds in I’m rolling my eyes. Five minutes in I’m rooting for this Lara Jean. She’s got it rough. She’s lost her mom—no kid should go through that. Her dad’s okay, though. Not at all a tough guy—just the right kind of man to raise three girls alone.

Her little sister, though—she’s the real treasure of this movie. I fall head over heels for little Kitty. Just in a “if I had a daughter” way. Her one liners are the fucking best. And what she does? I can’t stop laughing. It’s so devious, yet so well meant, and for the first time in my life, I wish I had three daughters of my own, just for those moments when they’re all hugging after slitting each others’ throats.

Daughters are the most badass thing ever.

Before I know it, the movie ends.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask the credits. “Who does she end up with?!”

Then Netflix does what it does best: it pops up the next movie.

I guess this forty-something can change, after all.

I press play.

THE END


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River Reapers MC Quarantine Chronicles: “Something Real”

I sneak peeks at her, memorizing her the way her triangular eyes just light everything up, just shoot pure blissful sparks. Given everything I know about her, I don’t know how someone could radiate so much light, but she does. It radiates from her skin, shining through her. She is light itself.

“Something Real”
A River Reapers MC Short Story

Vaughn

The phone slips in my hands, tumbling onto the floor. At least it’s carpeted. I don’t get sweaty hands—at least, I didn’t ’til now. ‘Til her.

I swipe the phone from the floor, my thumb ready to hit the answer button as soon as I’m upright and don’t look like I’m losing my shit. Except I accidentally accept the call, giving her a full view of my idiocy.

“Hey,” she says, her gentle blue eyes gazing up at me.

My heart stops in my chest.

I’m a programmer. I’m a hacker. I’m a biker, for fuck’s sake—one who runs with a club slowly but surely gaining the wrong kind of reputation.

Depending on whose side you’re on, I guess. My point is, I don’t get sweaty hands. I’m the one the MC calls in when they need dirt on someone.

That’s how we met.

“Cami,” I greet her, trying to play it cool but I know I’m failing. I lift the phone from the floor, giving her a head-on view of my face. I avoid looking at my own reflection. I don’t want to know how deep the shadows under my eyes are or how bad my permanent five o’ clock shadow is. Being quarantined here has not been kind to me.

The problem is, the only other place to look is at her. And damn, I could stare at her forever. I really could. But that’s fucking creepy.

I settle for the eye of the camera. My eyes, on the other hand, have other ideas. I sneak peeks at her, memorizing her the way her triangular eyes just light everything up, just shoot pure blissful sparks. Given everything I know about her, I don’t know how someone could radiate so much light, but she does. It radiates from her skin, shining through her. She is light itself.

“Hey,” she says again, her voice soft, her smile shy. “How are you?”

I could answer her question in so many ways. I could tell her the truth, that every day I’m trapped inside these four walls is another reminder of just how much I have to lose. I could tell her how, every time I leave the house for a short run or supplies, anxiety cramps my muscles, making my limbs heavy and my pulse race. I could tell her how the one woman I love more than anything is not safe if I make one little mistake.

But that’s not really first date material.

And this isn’t really a date.

I clear my throat. “You know,” I say, brushing aside the question. “Hanging in there. You?”

I have never, ever been smooth. I mean, I can talk my way into a woman’s bed. That’s easy. When it comes to being real, though, I’m fumbling and confused. That’s how Cami makes me feel—she makes me want the pain of being awkward, just so that I can have something real.

Even though we are two people who should not be together.

THE END


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River Reapers MC Quarantine Chronicles

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River Reapers MC Quarantine Chronicles: “Zoom This”

With the pandemic going and everything shut down, we don’t have much club business to attend to. But it’s important that we all stay connected—or so I thought. It turns out, getting a multigenerational MC onto a Zoom call is like herding kittens, if the kittens were all wearing leather and itching to go for a ride that doesn’t require staying six feet apart.

“Zoom This”
A River Reapers MC Short Story

Author’s Note: Have you been wondering how the River Reapers would handle social distancing? I have! So I wrote a few very short stories, just for fun, just for you and me. The following is unedited, so please excuse any typos or errors. Please also be aware that it may contain spoilers for the series.


Olivia

Ravage’s chin appears on the screen of my phone, a closeup constellation of black and silver stubble that I definitely didn’t need to see. On instinct, I pull my phone away from my face, but his chin remains.

“Hello?” He dips his chin, skin folding at the creases of his neck. “You all there?”

“It’s just you and me so far, Pres,” I tell him, casting a glance at Cliff beside me. I nudge him with my elbow, but he remains still as a statue on the couch. He sits with his phone damn near pressed to his forehead, dark eyes blinking slowly at it, as if it were a bomb. “You on?” I ask.

“I’m here,” Ravage says. “Olivia? I can’t see you.”

“Move the screen away from your chin,” I suggest.

“Screen?”

“Cliff?” I ask, turning toward him. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he says, but he glares at his phone.

My phone pings as another River Reaper enters the Zoom call.

“Yo,” Vaughn says. “Can you guys hear and see me? I’ve got Ravage’s chin, Olivia’s boobs, and Cliff’s a black screen.”

I yank my phone back up to face level. “Asshole.”

He holds up his hands. “Not my fault.”

“I don’t know how to move the screen,” Ravage says.

I close my eyes. My President, who rides a motorcycle with the ease of a stuntman, runs a sort of straight MC with an iron fist, and has dental work done without novocaine, can’t figure out how to hold his phone away from his face.

I’ve never been so embarrassed.

“Do you want me to tell him, or do you want to do it?” I ask Vaughn.

“I’m kind of enjoying this,” he says. “I finished Netflix a week ago.”

“I’m a black screen?” Cliff asks. His eyebrows scrunch together. Confused is my favorite look on him. It isn’t often that I get to see him unsure of himself. It’s endearing.

He mumbles a string of curses, and I bite my lip to keep from climbing into his lap and kissing his lips while laughing at him.

Social media and anything technology are so not his things.

“Here,” I say, holding out my hand.

He leans away from me. “I’ve got it.”

“Sure you do.” I turn back to my phone. As if it can sense my attention, it pings multiple times.

Beer Can, Donny, and Abraham’s faces appear in the neat row at the top of the screen. I peer at them, soaking in every detail of their home lives. It isn’t often, if ever, that I get to see any of them in their natural habitats.

Through his grainy connection, Beer Can sits in a broken-in corduroy recliner, wearing his usual Black Sabbath T-shirt under his cut. His salt and pepper hair sticks out in tufts at the sides. “You there?”

I swallow a snort. I could turn this into a drinking game; every time someone asks if we can see or hear them, take a shot. “We’re here.”

Donny stares dubiously back at us.

“You okay, man?”

He shakes his head once. “Women,” he mutters. “Why did I never realize how many women I live with?”

Punctuating his point, a shriek pierces the background.

I turn my volume down.

Pings chime as the rest of the club filters in. Both Mercy and Mark have black screens but sound, Skid has sound but his camera is pointed at the ceiling, and Abraham just looks wasted.

The little boxes of River Reapers rotate, cycling through some algorithm or other. Vaughn slides to the main strip, and for the first time I realize he’s sitting in a bedroom, with windows, A Perfect Circle playing softly in the background.

“Holy shit,” I say, nudging Cliff.

“I got this,” he insists.

“Yeah, yeah. Look at Vaughn.”

He squints at his phone. “I can’t see anybody.”

“You could just let me help you, you know.”

“Everybody here?” Ravage’s chin asks.

“I think we’re waiting for Stixx,” Mark says.

“Come on, kids. I figured this out. Surely you can, too,” my President says.

I chuckle. “Yeah, your chin’s doing great.”

Vaughn laughs through a hit of a joint, smoke pouring from his nose.

“What do you mean?” Ravage asks, but the two of us can’t stop.

“What is so fucking funny?” Cliff grumbles.

“They’re laughing at the old people,” Beer Can says.

Tears spill from my eyes, mascara bleeding into them. My eyes sting but I can’t stop laughing.

“Ravage,” Vaughn struggles to say, “just hold your phone away from your face!”

Suddenly the rest of my President’s face comes into view, his glacial eyes unamused. “Are you done?”

“Not my fault,” I gasp.

A final ping goes off as Stixx joins the call. “‘Sup,” he says as apology, his pale complexion even more washed out than usual. Dark circles underline his eyes.

“Why can’t we just go to the club house?” Cliff growls, dropping his phone into his lap.

“Because then we wouldn’t be social distancing,” I remind him.

“Fuck social distancing. Fuck Zoom.”

I swallow another laughing fit. “Can you just let me help you?”

“Let’s get started,” Ravage says.

“Give us a minute.” Setting my phone down, I turn to my ex-con, one of the few men who respects me, one of the few I trust. He’s more than earned it.

“I got it,” he insists.

Lucy sighs from her end of the couch. “You so don’t ‘got it,'” she chides. “Just let Olivia help you.”

“I’m not old,” he says.

“No one said you were, you big baby.” Lucy tosses him a wink.

A growl rumbles low in his throat.

“Can we get started?” Ravage begs. “My phone is dying.”

“That’s because it’s a dinosaur,” Vaughn says, “just like all you old fuckers.”

Ravage rubs his temples. “Why?” he mutters. “Why did I let you talk me into this?” He glares at the screen, and I don’t even have to ask who he’s sending it to.

It’s me, and Vaughn.

This was our idea.

With the pandemic going and everything shut down, we don’t have much club business to attend to. But it’s important that we all stay connected—or so I thought. It turns out, getting a multigenerational MC onto a Zoom call is like herding kittens, if the kittens were all wearing leather and itching to go for a ride that doesn’t require staying six feet apart.

I turn to Cliff again. Suddenly it dawns on me while he’s so frustrated by this Zoom call. It isn’t the tech. It’s the quarantine—it reminds him of prison.

Gently I take the phone from his hands. “Hey,” I say softly.

“Yeah.” His dark eyes meet mine, and in them I see decades of solitude and pain.

“You’re not alone,” I whisper. “Not anymore. And never again.” Pressing a few buttons, I get his camera working. Then I lean into him, sweeping my lips across his. “I’m right here.”

His warm lips open to me, softening under my touch. We meld, ignite, burn, each slow kiss easing the pain.

“All right, lovebirds,” Ravage says. “Are we all ready now?”

Pulling away, I grin at Cliff. He smiles back, the storm clearing from his eyes.

“Yes,” I say, cuddling into his lap. “We’re ready.”

THE END


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River Reapers MC Quarantine Chronicles

Get a FREE short every Thursday, plus immediately receive the standalone spinoff novella, Her Mercy.

Click here!

River Reapers MC Series

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River Reapers MC Series Reading Order + Extras

Can’t get enough of Cliff, Olivia, and the rest of the River Reapers? I put together a list of the complete series, in the author’s recommended reading order, plus all of the bonus content, short stories, miniseries, and more.

Happy reading! 🖤💋

A Disturbing Prospect (River Reapers MC, Book 1)

Whatever Cliff did to earn a life sentence, it must’ve been bad. That’s what Olivia thinks on her way to pick him up on his release day. But the ruggedly handsome ex-con with the gentle eyes can’t be all that bad, not when those killer hands touch Olivia like they were made for her. When their paths cross again, she realizes he might mean much more to her than just a one night stand in the back of a stranger’s car.

Olivia’s mother is missing, and Cliff is the key to finding her. Because the president of the local biker club they both work for has all the answers, and as Olivia gets closer to new prospect Cliff, she gets closer to finding her mother.

The club is the family Olivia’s sought her whole life, on the surface. The more entangled she becomes with Cliff and the club, the more she discovers that his life sentence and the club’s disturbing history have everything to do with her mother’s disappearance, and she never should’ve fallen for him in the first place.

A Disturbing Prospect is a slow burn, touch her and die, dark romance, and the first book in the River Reapers MC series.

Bonus Content

Biker slang and club roles

Anatomy of a biker’s cut

Character guide

Trigger warnings

Playlist


A Risky Prospect (River Reapers MC, Book 2)

Olivia’s mousy roommate Esther knows her biggest secret: how she “took care of” her stalker last semester with the help of her biker family. Now on graduation day, Esther needs her and the club’s help with a similar yet bigger problem. Before Olivia can ask the MC for another favor, her traumatic past walks into the clubhouse.

Her ex is the reason she can’t trust Cliff, the ruggedly handsome ex-con who helped her get rid of her stalker. Cliff risked going back to prison for her, and now he wants to make things between them official. In a perfect world, Cliff would be the one, but after the unspeakable things her ex did to her, she can’t let anyone close enough to hurt her again.

She couldn’t save herself back then, but she can protect Esther and her little sisters now. If the club won’t listen, she’ll make them. If her ex comes anywhere near her, she’ll “take him to the river,” too. And as her feelings for Cliff grow deeper, he’ll have to show her that he’s worth the risk.

A Risky Prospect is a slow burn, touch her and die, dark romance, and the second book in the River Reapers MC series.

Bonus Content

Her Mercy (A River Reapers MC Novella)

The last time Bree ran away, she put the love of her life Mercy in prison. Now that he’s out, he’s got to find her and convince her they belong together so they can both be free.

Bree has been running for decades. Every time she gets into trouble, the River Reapers MC covers her tracks. That’s how she met Mercy, the only man who’s ever loved her, and the reason she’s running again.

Mercy has an ache in his bones that not even freedom can soothe. When Bree disappeared, she put him in prison both metaphorically and physically.

Mercy needs to find Bree and reclaim the home they once found in each other. But Bree is still buckling under the weight of her own prison, and if Mercy doesn’t find her before her past does, she’ll disappear forever.

Her Mercy is a second chance, age gap, dark romance and is a prequel to the River Reapers MC series.

Bonus Content

Glossary

Character Guide

Trigger warnings


A Fatal Prospect (River Reapers MC, Book 3)

Olivia and Cliff survived a lifetime in the foster and prison system each, abandonment by family and friends, and most recently, a few bodies to “take to the river” with the help of their biker club. As the dust settles, now is finally the time for Cliff to convince Olivia to take the next step in their very offbeat romance. They were meant to be—he’s certain of it, but after everything she’s been through, Olivia is afraid to commit. Before he has a chance to tell her what’s on his mind and heart, war threatens to tear both them and the club apart.

When a teen football player is brutally violated, only Olivia, Cliff, and the River Reapers MC can avenge him. Now that Olivia’s a licensed social worker, she’s determined to get justice through the proper channels. The club’s running out of places to hide all her bodies, anyway. When the system is stacked against victims, making a bunch of high school athletes pay for their crimes proves trickier than anything Olivia’s ever done. Especially when a rival motorcycle club from the past is out for revenge and closing in.

The club is the family Olivia and Cliff both longed for their whole lives, but even families have rats. When someone betrays them, they’ll pay in both blood and love…

A Fatal Prospect is a slow burn, touch her and die, dark romance, and the third book in the River Reapers MC series.

Bonus Content

Character guide

Glossary

Deleted scene: “Of all the lives I’ve taken”

The real story that inspired A Fatal Prospect

Excerpt: “The only thing that can catch me”

Excerpt: “It’s blood I want”

Playlist

Trigger warnings


Spoiler-Free Bonus Content

Quarantine Chronicles (complete)

Halloween miniseries (complete)

The River Reapers go to Walmart (complete)

Summer bash miniseries (in progress)


Book Recaps

A Disturbing Prospect recap

A Risky Prospect recap


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HER MERCY Glossary

While reading Her Mercy, there might be some terms you aren’t familiar with, or places you need a refresher for. I’ve put together a glossary of biker slang and club roles, as well as terms special to the River Reapers MC, plus locations.

Looking for the character guide? Click here!

Cara’s: A diner on 63 that many of the River Reapers frequent Cara’s.

Colors: A logo of sorts that adorns the back of MC members’ cuts. Usually embroidered onto the leather. The River Reapers colors is the Sludge Specter—a sludge-covered reaper that is a nod to the polluted Naugatuck River.

Cut: The leather jacket or vest that members of a club wear, usually with the club’s insignia embroidered onto the back, and various patches sewn on.

Enforcer: Sort of a bouncer for the club… or the guy who sorts things out when talking doesn’t work.

Hangaround: A non-member who hangs out with the MC, often at The Wet Mermaid. Usually other motorcycle enthusiasts and even non-rival bikers.

House Mouse: A woman who is unaffiliated with but hangs out with the club.

Holeshot: When someone in a motor vehicle rips up gravel. It’s also the fastest driver during a race. Not a biker term, but a reader asked about it, so I figured I’d include it. It also used to be my dad’s CB handle.

Ol’ Lady / Ol’ Man: Girlfriend/boyfriend, usually serious.

One-kicker: In A Disturbing Prospect, Cliff mentions that he isn’t a one-kick wonder yet; this means that he can’t start his bike with just one kick of the starter.

One-percenter: A club that is involved with illegal activity.

Lewisburg: The prison that both Cliff and Mercy served time in.

MC: Motorcycle club

Naugatuck, CT: The dying industrial town where the series takes place. Also a real town near where I grew up.

Naugatuck River: A river that cuts through Naugatuck and Waterbury. Known nationally in real life for its chemical pollution. More recently, there was an oil spill. Some say the river is cursed.

Patch: This can refer to the patch on a biker’s cut, or the verb—as in, getting patched in, meaning being accepted as a member.

President: The member who oversees club activities, duties, and operations.

Prospect: A potential member.

Pussy Pad: The seat on the back of the bike, usually where a biker’s ol’ lady rides.

River Reapers MC: A fictional motorcycle club named for the Naugatuck River.

Rocker: A curved patch that is usually placed on the side or back of a cut. Usually designates the club’s name.

Sergeant-at-Arms: The member who handles club rules, patches, etc. Also sometimes weapons. (In some MCs, the SAA and Enforcer are interchangeable terms for the same role.)

Sludge Specter: A patch awarded only to members willing to do anything for the MC, who have actually gone above and beyond member duties. Also refers to the MC’s colors.

“Take them to the river”: A River Reapers phrase referring to killing someone—usually determined by a club vote. Example: When the original members voted to kill Bastard for molesting Lucy, they voted whether to take him to the river. Bodies are often buried on the Naugatuck River front, making it a more literal phrase.

Treasurer: The member who takes care of funds. Also organizes activities, fundraisers, and other club events.

Vice President: Second-in-command, usually coordinates Church and other events, and also takes over President roles in case that member can’t perform his duties.

The Wet Mermaid: The strip club owned by the River Reapers. The business is under Treasurer Mark’s name.

Her Mercy is exclusively for River Reapers MC fan club members. Click here to download your copy!

Read the River Reapers MC Series

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A RISKY PROSPECT Glossary

While reading A Risky Prospect, there might be some terms you aren’t familiar with, or places you need a refresher for. I’ve put together a glossary of biker slang and club roles, as well as terms special to the River Reapers MC, plus locations.

Looking for the character guide? Click here!

Cara’s: A diner on 63 that Donny and Esther work at. Many of the River Reapers frequent Cara’s.

Colors: A logo of sorts that adorns the back of MC members’ cuts. Usually embroidered onto the leather. The River Reapers colors is the Sludge Specter—a sludge-covered reaper that is a nod to the polluted Naugatuck River.

Cut: The leather jacket or vest that members of a club wear, usually with the club’s insignia embroidered onto the back, and various patches sewn on.

Enforcer: Sort of a bouncer for the club… or the guy who sorts things out when talking doesn’t work.

Hangaround: A non-member who hangs out with the MC, often at The Wet Mermaid. Usually other motorcycle enthusiasts and even non-rival bikers.

House Mouse: A woman who is unaffiliated with but hangs out with the club.

Holeshot: When someone in a motor vehicle rips up gravel. It’s also the fastest driver during a race. Not a biker term, but a reader asked about it, so I figured I’d include it. It also used to be my dad’s CB handle.

Ol’ Lady / Ol’ Man: Girlfriend/boyfriend, usually serious.

One-kicker: In A Disturbing Prospect, Cliff mentions that he isn’t a one-kick wonder yet; this means that he can’t start his bike with just one kick of the starter.

One-percenter: A club that is involved with illegal activity.

Lewisburg: The prison that both Cliff and Mercy served time in.

MC: Motorcycle club

Naugatuck, CT: The dying industrial town where the series takes place. Also a real town near where I grew up.

Naugatuck River: A river that cuts through Naugatuck and Waterbury. Known nationally in real life for its chemical pollution. More recently, there was an oil spill. Some say the river is cursed.

Patch: This can refer to the patch on a biker’s cut, or the verb—as in, getting patched in, meaning being accepted as a member.

President: The member who oversees club activities, duties, and operations.

Prospect: A potential member.

Pussy Pad: The seat on the back of the bike, usually where a biker’s ol’ lady rides.

River Reapers MC: A fictional motorcycle club named for the Naugatuck River.

Rocker: A curved patch that is usually placed on the side or back of a cut. Usually designates the club’s name.

Sergeant-at-Arms: The member who handles club rules, patches, etc. Also sometimes weapons. (In some MCs, the SAA and Enforcer are interchangeable terms for the same role.)

Sludge Specter: A patch awarded only to members willing to do anything for the MC, who have actually gone above and beyond member duties. Also refers to the MC’s colors.

“Take them to the river”: A River Reapers phrase referring to killing someone—usually determined by a club vote. Example: When the original members voted to kill Bastard for molesting Lucy, they voted whether to take him to the river. Bodies are often buried on the Naugatuck River front, making it a more literal phrase.

Treasurer: The member who takes care of funds. Also organizes activities, fundraisers, and other club events.

Vice President: Second-in-command, usually coordinates Church and other events, and also takes over President roles in case that member can’t perform his duties.

The Wet Mermaid: The strip club owned by the River Reapers. The business is under Treasurer Mark’s name.


Read the River Reapers MC Series

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A Recap of A Disturbing Prospect

There’s a lot of stuff happening in these River Reapers MC books, and it’s been over a year since I published A Disturbing Prospect, so you’re bound to forget something. Shoutout to Molli Moran for suggesting I put a recap in the beginning of A Risky Prospect; I decided to do it as a blog post instead, that way it doesn’t take up any space in the book. (Per Amazon’s TOS, bonus content can only take up no more than 10 percent of your ebook.)

Before You Read

Take a look at potential triggers, and check out the glossary of biker terms. There’s also a handy character list.

Previously on the River Reapers MC series…

Cliff was released from prison, but didn’t have anywhere to go. Thanks to terrible prison wages, he’d earned exactly enough for his cab and one night in a shitty motel. There was only one person he could call, but it was a long shot: his cousin Lucy. Would she even remember him? And if she did, would she want to talk to him?

It turned out that not only did Lucy remember him, but she was still grateful for what he did for her. She immediately offered to come down to Pennsylvania from Connecticut and pick him up. She planned on going by herself, but her adopted younger sister Olivia insisted on tagging along. She could use the break from her mundane life as a college student. In just a few months, she’d be graduating and officially a social worker. She had to live it up while she still could. Not too much, though—they almost missed their train!

When Olivia and Cliff meet, they’re instantly attracted to each other.

And then suddenly we’re in Lewisburg, and the Escalade pulls up in front of the entrance to a Days Inn. A man paces out front, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. Long brown hair that’s nearly black frames his face, and he’s got a beard, so I can’t really make out his features. But he’s big.

Not in a heavy way. He’s tall and broad. Even with that bulky hand-me-down coat, I can tell he’s built. It’s like I’m psychic and imagined him into being. Biting my lip, I stifle a giggle. For all I know, he’s really ugly and has a beer gut.

It really has been too long since I’ve gotten laid.

Lucy pays the Uber guy, we grab our luggage, and then my sister and I are standing in front of the motel with Cliff.

“They kicked you out?” she asks him.

He looks up, and depthless brown eyes meet hers. Despite the massive amounts of fur on his face, he’s handsome.

Hot, even.

There’s a scar next to his eyebrow that’s more like a pocked hole. It looks like someone bludgeoned him with a big rock. They probably did. But the rest of his face is intact—no teardrop tattoos or anything like that. His eyes are surprisingly soft and kind. When he smiles at Lucy, it lights up his whole face.

Olivia, Cliff, and Lucy spend a few days in Lewisburg while Cliff gets himself transferred to a probationary officer in Connecticut. Then they’re on the road again—or at least, they should be.

To celebrate, they go out for drinks. Olivia and Cliff have a few shots too many and get skin to skin in the back of someone else’s station wagon. Olivia swears to herself that it’ll never happen again. After all, they’re practically cousins.

But Cliff can’t shake lively, lovely Olivia from his head. It’s been 20 years since he set eyes on a woman, so maybe he’s just crushing on the idea of her. Or maybe it’s something more.

Cliff’s new P.O. sets him up with a job, and on his first day, he realizes he and Olivia have even more in common: they’re both working for a motorcycle club. Neither of them want the other there, and they both keep trying to change each other’s mind.

“They sell drugs, Olivia. This is just a front.” And fuck knows what else they do. I don’t say that, though. “This isn’t a good place for you.”

The relaxed woman in front of me morphs before my eyes. Her eyelids droop so that only slits of her pupils, irises, and whites are showing. Her lip curls. Nostrils flaring, she stabs the cigarette into the air in front of me. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Look, I’m not trying to be a dick, Livvie—”

“And you don’t get to call me that.” She sucks in a long drag. “The only way this is going to work, Cliff, is if you do you and I do me. We agreed: family reunions. That means you don’t stomp around acting like my fucking daddy.”

I rub my temples. “So you don’t mind working in a place that sells coke?”

The dirty look she tosses me is simultaneously condescending. “What the fuck do you think I do behind this bar? Pour beer for shit tips?”

Oh, Olivia. I look down at my drink, at the cigarette in my hands. I need something a lot stronger. It’s only my first shift and everything is spiraling out of what little equilibrium I had. “You’ll go down with them,” I say. “Do you want that?”

She rolls her eyes. “I want to pay off my student loans. The most I can possibly hope to make is $40,000 a year in this fucking state. I’ll be lucky if I can land a job with DCF. I don’t want to start off in debt right out of the gate.”

“What is it you’re going for?” I pictured her as doing something more adventurous, not sitting in a goddamn state office all day.

Stubbing out her cigarette, she settles those brown eyes on mine. “I want to be a social worker. I wanna help kids in the system.” The unsaid remainder of that sentence hangs between us: So they don’t end up like you.

“Don’t you think,” I say slowly, “that it’ll be a little hard to get a nice state job if you’re convicted of selling drugs?”

“Fuck you,” she lobs at me.

Grinning, I stand. “You already did.” I walk away, the whiskey soaking into me. Not in an out of control way. My veins swim, limbs relaxed. This head is clear.

But Olivia has even bigger problems. A guy from her photography class just won’t take no for an answer. She lets him down gently, but something about him seems off.

Meanwhile, Cliff learns that his father Bastard was the MC’s President. His mother Ruth shielded him from the MC until she died, so he was naive to much of who and what Bastard was.

Until he caught Bastard molesting Lucy.

Cliff killed Bastard and went to prison for his murder. The MC’s current President Ravage explains that he and some of the other members wanted to kill Bastard themselves, but club protocol meant they had to vote. Unfortunately, the vote was split right down the middle, meaning none of the members could take any action against Bastard. Cliff, Ravage explains, did them a favor, so if he wants to join the MC, he’s welcome to be a Prospect.

It’s a lot to take in, but Cliff ultimately decided to become a Prospect because, apart from Lucy, he has no family. The MC could be his family, if he lets it.

Olivia starts noticing odd things: first her roommate Esther’s car gets keyed, then someone tries to kill her kitten. She approaches Donny, the MC’s Enforcer, for a gun—just in case. She’s been hurt by too many men in the past, and it can’t hurt to err on the side of caution.

It all comes to a head when her classmate Eli makes a copy of her apartment key and breaks in. Thankfully, she’s prepared, but she wasn’t prepared to fight him. After a close call, she takes Eli out with a shot to the hand and then to the head. The only thing she didn’t prepare for was the aftermath. She can’t call the cops. Instead, she calls Cliff.

Cliff calls the MC, and with Enforcer Donny and Sergeant-at-Arms Beer Can, he dismembers and disposes of the body. Eli can’t hurt Olivia anymore, but she’s still in a state of shock. It shouldn’t feel so good to take a life. Cliff knows exactly what she means.

MC President Ravage is both irritated with and proud of both Cliff and Olivia for the way they handled things. He reveals to Olivia that her father was Cliff’s father’s Vice President. The club is her birthright, too, if she wants it. The MC offers her a position as a Prospect, and patches Cliff in as a full member.

All that’s left is for Olivia and Cliff to decide whether they should be together. Neither of them can deny the pull they feel toward each other. Besides, the couple that hides a body together stays together, right? They decide to give it a go, for now…

The story continues in A Risky Prospect, Book 2 in the River Reapers MC series.