Taze: And the Chick He Couldn’t Forget (Taze Prequel Novella) (MC Biker Romance)

By Eden West

They call him Taze. Why? Because he can stop a girl in her tracks with just a look.

That’s right, a biker so drop-dead sexy, his glance is more dangerous than a taser.

But even though Taze could have any girl he wants, he’s never found one that keeps his interest for more than a night.

That is, until he meets Micah.

Micah is a girl-next-door waitress who doesn’t look twice at Taze and his gang when they first pass through her Texas diner. After all, she wouldn’t think about ever dating some vagrant biker.

But Taze can’t get this special lady out of his head.

So he returns to officially meet her.

Then again to impress her.

The again to sweep her off her feet and take her on the ride of her life.

When Micah and Taze are finished, they both know they’ll never be returning to their old way of life again.

This steamy romance novella is a standalone prequel to the full-length novel Taze: The Bad Boy Biker Next Door.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eden West
• Release date: Jan 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463430910

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Contents

1. The Border

2. Highway Chase

3. Open Late

4. All Day Breakfast

5. Club Pleasure

6. At The Counter

7. Last Minute Decisions

8. A Peaceful Dinner

9. Micah’s Place

Next In The Series

One

The Border

A mighty roar echoed across the moon-lit Texas plain. It was the sound of five choppers racing down the deserted highway. Each biker wore patches proclaiming The Twisted Sabers, one of the most fearsome outlaw biker gangs in the country. And Taze, the biker at the front, peeled his eyes for their objective.

The instructions they received for their meet said simply, The road will be marked by a body impaled on a stake. Taze glanced down at his odometer and eased the throttle.

Shit, he cursed to himself. They had just passed fifty miles from the last turn off. How could we miss a dead body impaled on a stake? Where was this damn thing?

Jimmy, the biker in command of their night’s mission, pulled up next to Taze. I don’t see any fuckin’ bodies around here! Jimmy shouted.

Wait! Taze shouted back. In the gleam of his headlights, he spotted a rusty motorcycle wrapped around a large, wooden post about 10 yards off the highway. He slowed to a halt.

What? The last one in the line of bikers, Brute, asked. Brute was massive and rarely spoke in more than monosyllables.

Look, said Taze. He pointed at the abandoned motorcycle. The body of a motorcycle impaled on a stake, Taze said.

Sure enough, they all looked down and found a faint dirt road leading off the highway.

Jimmy rolled his eyes. Clever bastards. Very funny.

Wackjob, the paranoid one of the group, spoke up. Hopefully we won’t have to deal with any real corpses tonight, after all, he said in his usual, high-pitched, squirrelly voice.

At least none of ours, said Ice, who slid a magazine into his Glock. Ice earned his name because he was always cool under pressure. But even he was on edge tonight.

Taze slowly started driving down the dirt road. Jimmy quickly sped past him, sending up a cloud of dust into Taze’s face. I’m in command tonight, I’ll lead, Jimmy said.

Taze coughed from the dust and let Jimmy go. He figured there was no point in fighting over it.

The choppers quietly rolled down the dirt road for about a half mile. Finally, they spotted a rickety shed standing alone in the field.

They parked their bikes and Jimmy lead the pack toward the abandoned structure. A cool wind blew across the plain, and even though all five of these bad bikers were ripped and carrying, they all got a chill down their spine.

Brute, Ice, you two stay guard, Jimmy said to the guys behind him. They nodded as Jimmy approached the rickety front door of the shack with his gun drawn. He hesitated.

What’s wrong? Taze asked.

Nothing’s wrong, Jimmy said back defensively.

I can take point, Taze replied.

Jimmy reluctantly nodded and stepped back. Taze knew Jimmy saw even this small act as a power play, but he didn’t have time for games right now. He wanted to get in and get out as soon as possible.

Taze took out his flashlight, took a deep breath, and opened the door—

He shined his flashlight around the small shed. It was empty. Nothing but an abandoned bed, broken furniture, and shudders flapping in the howling wind.

There’s no one here, Taze said to Jimmy and Wackjob, who quickly followed him in. Jimmy checked his watch.

It’s midnight exactly. They said they’d be here, Jimmy said back.

No one’s been in here in years! Wackjob said through chattering teeth. I bet it’s a set-up. They probably got this whole place booby-trapped.

Calm down, Taze said. He continued to look around the empty, one room shack. Let’s just give them a few minutes.

Jimmy backed into a corner and drew his gun. Wackjob noticed a bare toilet in the corner of the room.

Man, I gotta take a shit, he shouted to the other two.

What, now? Taze asked.

I gotta shit when I’m nervous! Wackjob said as he ran over to the toilet. He pulled his pants down.

Jesus Christ, Jimmy muttered, burying his face in his hands.

WOAH! Wackjob leaped off the toilet, his pants still down. Woah Woah WOAH!!! He reached for his gun and dropped it.

What?! Jimmy and Taze shouted as they both raised their guns.

There’s someone under the bed! Wackjob shouted. I saw something move!

Jimmy and Taze exchanged looks. Taze carefully got on his knees and shined his flashlight under the bed.

A trap door popped up from the floorboards. Taze made out the silhouette of a man sticking his head out. Twisted Sabers? The man whispered in a heavy Spanish accent.

Si, Taze said, still pointing his gun.

La Cama, the man said, pointing at the bed blocking the trap door above him.

Taze sighed with relief and stood up. Come on, let’s move the bed, Taze said to the other two. Wackjob, pull your pants up.

They were hiding under the bed? Wackjob asked as he clumsily yanked his pants up.

No, this is where they come out of their tunnel, Taze replied as he and Jimmy tipped the bed over to the side.

Sure enough, below the bed, a trap door swung open. The man Taze was speaking to climbed out of a hole. Two others followed with backpacks on.

No flash, the first man said, pointing to Taze’s flashlight. Taze turned it off, draping them in darkness. Wackjob backed into the corner with his gun aimed.

Five kilos, right? Jimmy said, keeping his hand on his pocketed