I hope everyone is planning a happy and safe 4th of July weekend. For those of you looking for a story about the holiday, check out this excerpt from my book EASY RYDER.
It’s July 3, 1976, the beginning of America’s bicentennial weekend, and everyone seems to be celebrating their freedoms except eighteen-year-old runaway Michael Ryder. Fresh from rural Pennsylvania, Michael is doing whatever and whoever it takes to get to San Francisco, where he hopes to find a new life with the freedom to love without fear.
While hitchhiking, a mysterious, tattooed biker named Snake offers him a ride west—on the back of his customized Harley chopper. During their journey across Route 66, Snake introduces Michael to new and steamy pleasures, leaving Michael aching for more than just a physical relationship. But a violent encounter with a cruel biker gang and a harrowing secret from Snake’s military past might destroy their unlikely relationship long before they reach the end of the road.
The coming of age story EASY RYDER takes place during the summer of 1976, over America’s Bicentennial weekend. For main character Michael, his ride is anything but easy. During his journey of self-discovery, and sexual awakening, this teenage runaway quickly learns that the real world might be more dangerous than the life he left behind.
Whatever comes his way, the one thing no one can take from Michael is hope.
His hope that one day he will find love and acceptance and be able to live the life he has only dreamed about. A life with the freedom to be who he is.
This hopeful innocence is the very trait which first captures the attention of Snake, the secondary hero of the novel. Tall, rough and tattooed, Snake has traveled a road which has dashed any chance for a bright future after returning from Vietnam. But everything changes when he picks up Michael on the highway in Indiana.
Though these two men outwardly appear so different, as they ride across the country on the back of Snake’s customized chopper, they both will discover the ride is much easier if you aren’t alone.
You can pick up your copy HERE
My ride stood beside his chopper, the orange glow of a cigarette near his lips. Outside in the dark his tattoos had become mere shadows on his bare arms as he finished his smoke.
“I’m ready whenever you are,” I said in a chipper way, trying unsuccessfully to conceal my sudden excitement.
He quirked his brow again. It was then I had the notion that was how he smiled. I also got the impression maybe he liked me. After the loaded look he’d given me inside the diner, I was pretty sure he liked me more than strictly as friends. No wonder he hadn’t noticed the waitress’ not-so-subtle advances.
He tossed his cigarette butt onto the pavement, and I waited for him to mount up, checking out the chopper and deliberately keeping my gaze off his delectable ass. I tried to play it casual though my heart raced with both nervous excitement and apprehension.
I sure hoped I wasn’t reading into things.
“You can stow that in here,” he offered, gesturing to my backpack as he opened one of his saddlebags.
“Oh, thanks,” I said awkwardly. My pack wasn’t big and it fit easily between a small toolbox and an aluminum baseball bat. When he closed it, the bat stuck out of the top. I pointed at it. “What’s with that?”
“I don’t like to fight,” he said, sliding on his eye protection. “But when I do, I fight to win. Dirty or not.”
I shivered at the menace in his tone, and once again questioned the wisdom of heading off into the night with him.
So why was I doing it?
He threw a long leg over the bike and leaned it to the side to kick back the stand. He turned the engine over and tossed me a look. Despite the potential risk, I climbed on behind this nameless tattoo artist and took a gentle hold on his hips, just enough so I didn’t fall off—he didn’t exactly drive slow. I loved the solid feel of his body in front of me, but until he gave me a clearer sign, I couldn’t act like touching him was anything more than platonic. A difficult thing to accomplish, having my crotch inches above his perfect backside.
Damn, I wondered if he ever wanted to be fucked. Sexual need swirled inside my groin and ass. I didn’t used to think I wanted things in my ass, even when I got talked into trying it by Tommy Freeport. But Karl had shown me how amazing it could be, the bliss of being penetrated, stretched, and filled over and over again with a hard prick. The delight of cum exploding within, all warm and wonderful. Karl had also taught me my old high school buddy had a lot to learn.
Yeah. I knew exactly why I had taken the ride from this sexy biker.
And, apparently, so did he.
Before he shifted into gear, he took the hand I’d placed on his hip and pulled it down and forward. I resisted for the barest second, more out of shock than anything else. He led it around to the front of his waist, across his middle, and then slid it under the warm leather of his vest. The move drew my upper body indecently closer to him, and the prickle of hairs leading from his belly button to his crotch teased my palm. Desire shot to my toes, then back up to my other extremities.
He pressed my hand into his bare skin, as if to tell me to keep it there.
I wasn’t about to move it.