As an author I have the opportunity to show people the softer side of bikers...real people, keeping it real. I’m blessed to be involved with a breed of bikers who spend countless hours riding for charity each riding season, men who put family first before anything.
With everyone dressed and ready to go, they saddled up and headed back toward the festivities. Brrr, I should have worn my jean jacket. The morning breeze was invigorating, but a tad chilly for so much exposed skin. Missy focused on the explosion of reds and oranges up and down both sides of the road.
Up ahead, a lone biker rode toward them. Her pulse raced. The most gorgeous specimen of a man rode his hog past them. The absence of a helmet allowed a mane of sandy brown hair to flow behind him. His long, lean frame melded perfectly to his machine.
Abruptly, Missy firmed the hold on her handlebars as Lady veered dangerously close to the gravel shoulder. Mouse pulled up beside her and flashed a bright, white smile.
“Nice scenery, eh, girl?”
Her cheeks flushed, undoubtedly stained a lovely shade of pink. A glance in her mirror found the rider twisted in his seat, checking her out. Before he turned his attention back to the road, he tipped two fingers to his forehead and rode away.
$1 from each print copy sold will be donated to Breast Cancer Research. http://gowitheflo.org
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