A Fatal Prospect, Chapter 1

My relationship with Olivia is… complicated. She doesn’t want to move in with me, she doesn’t want to get married, and she definitely doesn’t want to have my babies. She won’t even let me tell her I love her. Sometimes, I think she’ll be the death of me.

Catch Up

The following is an excerpt from A Fatal Prospect. This chapter contains spoilers from the series; please read A Disturbing Prospect and A Risky Prospect first!

Chapter 1

Cliff

“You’re on Bunny duty, Cliff,” Olivia tells me as I set down the final box of decorations. I turn to find my cousin Lucy holding out her baby to me.

“Leigh,” she says, narrowing her eyes at Olivia. “Her name is Leigh.” She passes the baby Olivia nicknamed Bunny to me, and I cradle her in the crook of my arm.

“Easiest job in the house,” I say. I’d never pass up on some uninterrupted Bunny time. It’s a regular game my cousin and I play. Where we used to fight over turns playing Crash Bandicoot, now we fight over who gets to hold Bunny. Lucy always wins, of course.

Nothing has changed between us.

“I can’t believe you two talked me into a biker Sip and See,” Lucy says, climbing onto a chair. She wraps crepe streamers around the stripper pole, and I bite back a laugh.

I can’t believe it, either.

I catch Olivia’s eye from where she sets up the bar. She smirks. “Please. I wasn’t about to let you sip tea. Whiskey’s so much better, and we’ve got plenty of that.”

“I told you to save it for your own baby,” Lucy says.

“Not gonna happen,” Olivia says. “And don’t even start with that ‘you’ll change your mind’ bullshit again. I’d be a horrible mother.”

I swallow her statement. It lodges in my chest, wedging the rift between us even wider. Babies are a touchy subject between us, close behind marriage and Olivia’s PTSD.

Bunny fusses. I look down at her, and I can’t help but smile. “Hey,” I soothe. She’s existed for just about two weeks, yet she brings out the very best in me. I might never have my own children, so for me, Bunny is it.

“I’m gonna spoil you,” I confess, rocking her. I swear she smiles. “I’ll even buy your first motorcycle.”

“Over my dead body.”

I turn. Lucy holds out the tiny outfit she debated over for the last week, rolling her eyes at me but smiling. “I’ll work on her,” I tell Bunny.

“It might not take long.” She holds out her arms. “Olivia talked me into a biker baby debut. The two of you could talk me into anything. Give me my baby.”

“I can change her,” I say, not ready to give up my niece.

“I need you to hang up the rest of the streamers,” Olivia says, joining us.

She barely looks at the baby. I’ve seen her hold Bunny twice, and both times were at the hospital.

“Sucks being tall, doesn’t it?” Lucy teases, and I relinquish the baby, immediately missing her.

“She smiled at me.” I grab a roll of streamers and tape, and get to work.

“We’ve been through this. It’s gas.” Lucy lays Bunny down and starts working her out of her tiny onesie.

My chest aches.

Olivia loves Bunny—Leigh. I know she does. She’s the one who gave her that nickname while Lucy was pregnant. But once Lucy brought Bunny home, everything changed between Olivia and me.

The distance between us is complicated. She doesn’t want to move in with me, she doesn’t want to get married, and she definitely doesn’t want to have my babies. She won’t even let me tell her I love her.

It’s not just that.

Sometimes when I close my eyes, I still see her on top of Greg, those fingers, currently stacking delicate shot glasses, wrapped around his throat. There’s no doubt in my mind that she had to do it. I still wish I didn’t have to see it.

I guess that’s how Lucy must feel about me.

I finish up the streamers, my hands tingling, the muscles and nerves remembering what I want to forget. I made my father pay for his sins against Lucy with my bare hands. No regrets, that’s how I live. Olivia, too.

It still changes you.

There are times when I can’t look at her. The monster in me sees the monster in her. It stops me cold in my tracks. Our entire relationship is probably built on that thread that runs through us both. It makes sense that we can’t have the things I want so badly.

Our world is no place for a child.

It’s not her fault at all.

I just don’t know what to do about it.

“It’s time,” Olivia calls, putting the final touches on the gifts table. Right on cue, the door swings open, and Donny and Esther shuffle inside with their herd of kids. Esther’s three little sisters come with a plus-one, an older teen boy I’ve never seen before. Esther’s oldest little sister, Cierra, breaks off from the group with him and they dip their heads together. Cierra points to Olivia, and my eyebrows furrow.

“Who’s he?” I ask Donny.

His jaw tightens. “Cierra’s seventeen-year-old ‘friend.’ She’s fourteen, for fuck’s sake. I wasn’t ready for this shit.”

“She’s in high school, brother,” I say, clapping him on the back. “It was bound to happen.”

“I ain’t a fan.” Donny eyes the boy. “They’re attached at the hip, and I swear, if they attach anywhere else, I’ll kill him.” His dark eyes meet mine, softening as his threat dies.

Donny fell in love with Esther and didn’t skip a beat when she got guardianship of her little sisters. They’ve all been through a lot and, teen boyfriends aside, I’m glad things are getting back to normal for them.

More guests pour in, mostly teachers Lucy works with at the elementary school. I spot her chatting with friends, rocking Bunny in her arms. Motherhood looks good on Lucy. She reminds me of my mother, dedicated and tender.

I’ll probably never know the truth behind Ruth’s death.

It’s a loss I feel every day, but especially today when she should be here. She’d love Bunny. She’d love Olivia.

I glance around for my woman, but she’s gone. So are Cierra, the boy, and Esther.

“Olivia will fill you in later,” Donny says, gripping my arm.

“Fill me in on what?” Before I can get an answer out of him, music fills the clubhouse.


Thank you for reading Chapter 1 of A Fatal Prospect, Book 3 in the River Reapers MC series.


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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!

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“Spill it… on her?” | Deleted scene from A Risky Prospect

Cliff needs to get his President’s attention, so he enlists the help of shitty bartender Trish in this deleted scene from A Risky Prospect.


I find Ravage sitting at a table downstairs, one of our dancers in his lap. Shit. I’d hoped to catch him before the party really got going. I don’t even see Donny, so he and Esther must be upstairs.

Interrupting Ravage right now would be a bad idea. He’s not in business mode anymore. The girl in his lap is down to a G-string and nothing else, so they’re not far from going upstairs. If I cock block him, he’ll cold cock me.

Hesitating by the bar, I signal for Trish.

“The usual?” She bats her eyes at me.

“Thank you, darling.” I smile back at her, the crooked one that my mom always said was going to kill the ladies. An unexpected twinge ripples through my chest. It shouldn’t be possible to miss someone this much after so long, but I do. Especially because she’d be able to give me some advice about Olivia.

But she’s not here. Apart from Lucy, I have no family left. Only my brothers.

Trish shovels ice into a glass and pours the whiskey over it. With a wink, she adds a cherry with a stem. Then she sets the glass down in front of me.

Stretching out, she leans on the counter, her chest framed by the stained and worn wood.

I take a sip, the whiskey cold and refreshing. Then I lean in close, so close she can hear me over the music, even though I keep my voice low, that intimate level that drops panties. “I need a favor.”

Her lips twitch into a smile. “Anything, baby. What do you need?”

“I need you to take a drink by that table and spill it on her.” I nod to Ravage and the dancer. “Make it look like an accident.”

“Spill it . . . on her?” She gapes at me, eyes flicking from me to the President.

Plucking the cherry from the glass, I pop it into my mouth, sucking on the fruit. I nod.

“Shit, Cliff.” Her teeth sink into her lower lip. “I don’t know. That’s a hell of a favor.”

“I’ll grab Ravage before he fires you. I just need him untangled.”

Smirking, she grabs a tray and a pair of glasses. “You owe me.”

“I figured.” I down my drink and try not to think about what she might call in when the time comes.

I watch as she fills the glasses with ice, club soda, and sugar.

“Gotta make it sticky enough to send her packing,” she says, “and I sure as hell ain’t wasting any booze.”

I better watch out for this one.

She eases out from behind the bar, the tray balanced on one hand, hips swaying as she moves across the floor. When she nears Ravage’s table, I stand.

“Shit!” she yells, pitching sideways. The whole tray slides out of her hand and right into the dancer’s lap. Liquid sloshes up, splashing her in the face and soaking her hair.

“What the hell?” the dancer shrieks, jumping out of Ravage’s lap. Several droplets land on his cut.

Frowning, he stands, a thick finger pointed toward Trish.

I step in.

Leaning in close, I speak so that only he can hear me. “Can I borrow you for a minute, Pres?”


Thank you for reading this deleted scene from A Risky Prospect, Book 2 in the River Reapers MC series.


Keep Cliff & Olivia for Your Shelf

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 RISKY PROSPECT Cover Reveal

When I sat down to write A Disturbing Prospect and then A Risky Prospect, I had no idea how much Olivia and Cliff’s story would resonate with readers. See, I wrote these books for me; there were some demons I wanted to slay, and writing has always been my therapy, my catharsis. I’ve long wanted to write a biker romance, and many of my favorite stories involve vigilantes: The Crow, Watchmen, Kick-Ass, The Punisher… Those dark stories about everyday people using what they’ve got to get justice have always spoken to me.

In A Disturbing Prospect, I wrote for justice for someone else, for the Lucys in my life. In A Risky Prospect, I wrote for justice for myself.

I am a sexual assault survivor. Two different “boyfriends”—I hate to call them that, because they didn’t treat me like boyfriends should—hurt me, and it almost killed me. I spent the last few years unpacking all of the damage, struggling through PTSD and flashbacks, clawing my way through to the other side. Part of that involved writing my story. I took those two boyfriends, merged them into one character, and let the words flow.

I knew when writing A Disturbing Prospect (Book 1) that Olivia had some trauma to unpack in A Risky Prospect (Book 2). I wanted her arc to shine, so I brought in designer Natasha Snow, and suggested we feature Olivia on the cover.

I never imagined just how badass this cover turned out.

Brash social worker Olivia has been through her own personal hell and come out the other side, tattered but determined to make things better in her corrupt town—no matter the cost. Her roommate’s current situation is the perfect place to start.

When ex-con Cliff’s wild ol’ lady Olivia comes to him and the River Reapers for help, he’s on board. His vigilante motorcycle club can get the job done, and it’ll help convince Olivia to take the next step in their relationship.

But when Olivia’s traumatic past walks through the club’s doors, there’s no stopping her from doing whatever it takes to settle her own score. Even if it means crossing a line that Cliff might not be able to pull her back from.

Read Chapter 1 | Pre-Order

I’m so excited to share this book with you. I can’t wait ’til it’s in your hands! A Risky Prospect releases March 18th. Pre-order your copy now!

The “Kidnapped by the Biker” Trope Needs to Die

I loved Sons of Anarchy, so when I discovered there was a whole sub-genre of biker romances, I pounced. Except I was disappointed again and again.

Over and over, I kept coming across the same trope: kidnapped by the biker. Usually the heroine is the daughter of the President of a rival MC, and the hero kidnaps her as retaliation. She’s dragged out in the middle of the night, bound, and kept as a pawn in their game. Over time, she and the hero fall in love.

That’s not love. Not my idea of love, anyway. I can’t imagine ever having positive feelings toward someone who was so cruel to me.

I’m also not a fan of the damsel in distress trope. I prefer my heroines kicking ass and taking names.

So I wrote my own.

If a rival MC ever kidnaps Olivia, god help them. 😂

Which tropes would you like to see less of? Sound off in the comments!


Photo by Meelimello / Pixabay

A Risky Prospect, Chapter 1

It’s the day I’ve been working toward for the past four years. In just a couple hours, I’ll officially be a social worker. I should be enjoying a quickie with my biker boyfriend before I walk across the graduation stage, but my roommate’s knock interrupts us. The look on her face tells me I might not be making it to the ceremony.

“I need your help, Olivia. I need the club’s help,” she adds, and I know I won’t be making it at all.

You’re reading Chapter 1 of A Risky Prospect, Book 2 in the River Reapers MC series.

catch up

author’s note

The following excerpt is NSFW; blush at your own risk! This excerpt may also contain triggers; please see the complete list of triggers for A Risky Prospect.


Olivia

The fabric of my dress tears as Cliff yanks the top down to free my breasts. The ripping sound cuts through the air, loud enough that I swear everyone in the vicinity probably heard it. The vicinity being the River Reapers’ club house.

I always wanted sex so good, clothing had to be ripped. It’s a shame that my graduation dress is collateral damage.

Cliff thrusts into me, oblivious to the heat spreading through my cheeks. He wraps one hand around my breast, his other hand caressing my ribs, crossing my stomach, traveling down, down, down, until the pad of his thumb rests on my favorite nerve. As he gives it one quick stroke—like he’s plucking a note on a guitar, checking to make sure it’s tuned properly—my back arches and I forget that the whole club can hear us, that we just ripped my graduation dress. I fade into him, as in sync with another person as I’ll ever be.

There’s something about him that absorbs me without erasing me. We orbit each other, a symbiotic relationship. Especially when his hands are on me and he’s inside of me.

My hips match his pace, his hand rubbing over my nipple, giving my breast just the right amount of squeeze, drawing me closer and closer to the edge. Without me ever saying so, Cliff instinctively knows the key to me coming with him is his giant hands on my chest. He’s attentive like that.

I’m close, so close I feel like I’m dying. Every woman knows this agony: when you’re right on the edge but not quite there yet. I’m burning alive from the inside out with his match igniting me.

“Close?” he asks, voice rough. It’s always deep and smoky, a rasp that sends shivers through me and makes me wet.

I nod, forgoing words to focus all of my concentration into the final rub he gives me before moving both hands to my breasts. I moan. As long as he keeps doing that, I’ll be more than close. This one’s gonna be one of those firework shows, the kind that leaves me slightly dizzy, staring at the ceiling.

Except the sharp rap of knuckles on Cliff’s door yanks me right out of my happy place and reminds me of why I can’t focus in the first place.

“Olivia!” my roommate, Esther, calls. “We’re gonna be late. Vamonos!”

It’s the day I’ve been working toward for the past four years. In just a couple hours, I’ll officially be a social worker. Esther, too.

“Oh, shit,” Cliff says. He pulls out, but just as his crown brushes my clit, he shudders and lets go. The hot pulse takes me with him, a mini spark instead of the fireworks I’d hoped for, but I’ll take it.

I lay back with a smile.

“Shit,” he growls. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” I laugh. “I’m pretty sure this is my fault.”

“I’m the one who grabbed your ass,” he says as he pads away from the bed and ducks into the bathroom.

I sit up on my elbows. “I’m the one who wasn’t wearing any panties.”

Esther pounds harder. “Let’s go,” she calls, drawing out the two words. To think, a few months ago, my bookish roommate was the one dragging her ass, making me play time games so neither of us were ever late. Now she’s in a rush.

I glance down at my ruined dress and sigh. It’s not too big a deal, considering no one’s going to see it under my gown anyway. But still. I kinda liked it.

“I’ll get you a new one,” Cliff says, handing me a washcloth.

“I should punish you by just wearing my gown and nothing else.” I clean up as quickly as possible, then start hunting through his dresser for something else to wear. I don’t stay overnight with him in the club house often, but this winter I learned to keep extra clothing stashed in as many places as possible.

A girl never knows when she’s going to get dirty.

Or bloody.

I slip out of the remains of my dress and tug on the romper.

Cliff groans.

“What?”

Instead of telling me, he closes the space between us and touches my hard nipples through the fabric. “You’re killing me,” he whispers, and I’m immediately wet again.

“I’m leaving!” Esther threatens.

“I liked her better when she was quiet,” I tell Cliff, grabbing my clutch bag. “Donny is a bad influence.”

He chuckles. “And vice versa. Donny was as cold as ice. I saw him smile the other day, and Esther wasn’t even in the room.”

“Please kill me if I ever change for a guy.”

His eyes drop from mine as he picks up his keys. He shrugs into his cut without a word. I wish I could have a moment to run my fingers over the stitching where the arms would be on a normal leather jacket, feel the silky patches and rocker that make him a member of the River Reapers. That make him a Sludge Specter. I pull the door open and come face to face with Esther.

“Ready?” I ask her.

She gives me a look—a death glare that is all Esther and zero percent Donny—and flounces away in her cornflower blue sundress and white canvas sneakers, the color and the dress complimenting and accentuating her long, dark legs.

I roll my eyes at my pale legs, mottled with scars and bruises. There’s also the scar at my hairline.

Cliff catches my hand, drawing me in for a kiss. His warm lips touch mine for a full second, then he pulls back. “See you there,” he says.

Nodding, I leave Cliff’s room and the other club rooms, heading toward the stairs that’ll take me down into The Wet Mermaid, the MC’s strip club and my place of employment. For now, anyway. After graduation, it’ll be a whirlwind of state job interviews and shopping for business casual.

I make my way through the club, my brothers in leather nodding at me and raising their glasses. Girls spin on the poles, and Vaughn mixes drinks behind the bar. Good thing it’s not anyone else. I don’t know where Mark—my boss and the MC’s treasurer—finds some of these girls. They can’t tell top shelf vodka from bottom.

As I exit the club, the heat hits me like a wall, humidity wrapping around me and wrecking what was left of my hair. Gotta love New England weather—it always jumps straight from winter into summer.

I spot Esther’s car, but she’s not in it. Glancing around, I scan the parking lot. Two minutes ago she couldn’t hold her horses, and now she’s nowhere to be found. Typical fucking Esther. Scowling, I grab a cigarette from my clutch and light up. At this rate, Cliff and Donny will be at the campus before we are.

A sob cuts through the thick air, and I whip around. I know that voice. I’ve heard my roommate cry at Finding Dory. I follow the sound, my fingers closed around the handle of the knife in my clutch. I don’t go anywhere without it.

Rounding the corner of the building, I nearly crash into Esther, who’s sagged against the wall, her ass on the ground, knees drawn to her chest. Her shoulders shake and her limp hand loosely holds her phone. Her face is dry, but her chest rises and falls in rapid breaths. She gasps for air, and I drop to my knees in front of her, taking her hands.

“Esther? What’s wrong?”


Thank you for reading Chapter 1 of A Risky Prospect, Book 2 in the River Reapers MC series.


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Playlist for A RISKY PROSPECT

I might’ve gone overboard with this one.

It’s two and a half hours long, with 38 songs. And that’s after I pared it down a bit!

I can’t help it, though. A Risky Prospect happens to be my longest novel ever, so it makes sense that it comes with such a hefty playlist. If I had to pick one song that encapsulates this book, I’d be screwed. Each of these songs is so important to this book (and me). I love this playlist so much, I’ve been listening to it pretty much nonstop since I finished the first draft back in October. Some of these songs are my all-time favorites.

Check it out, then let me know what you think! Which ones are your favorites?

FYI, you can now pre-order A Risky Prospect! Click the button below.

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Playlist for A DISTURBING PROSPECT

Feel the Olivia and Cliff vibes with this playlist of songs that inspired me while writing A Disturbing Prospect.

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Biker Slang and Club Roles

Now that A Disturbing Prospect is live, I thought I’d run through some of the biker slang and club member titles that pop up throughout the book. While writing, I used this biker slang dictionary as a reference.

Looking for A Risky Prospect terms and locations? Click here!


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.

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.

MC: Motorcycle club

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.


MC Positions

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.

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.)

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.

There are other positions in an MC, but I didn’t want to overwhelm my readers with a whole slew of characters. You’ll meet more of the members in the next book. 😉


A Disturbing Prospect
Now Available

Book 2: A Risky Prospect
Prequel Novella: Her Mercy
Book 3: A Fatal Prospect
Book 4: COMING SOON