Page 2 of Kodiak

I glance in my sideview mirror and do a crew check to make sure we’re not waiting on anyone. We have a skeleton chapter consisting of eight men and two prospects, and they’ll all be joining us today. We’d like to expand one day, but first we need to get our minds wrapped around the fact that we’re no longer running as nomads.

Risk, our enforcer, gives me a two finger salute.

Hemi, our sergeant-at-arms, nods at me.

Regulator, our road captain, lifts his hand in acknowledgement.

Midas, our treasurer, sends me a scowl, he’s never been an early morning riser and is always grumpy until around noon.

Tritan, our treasurer, doesn’t even lift his head from his gas tank to look at me. Guess he’ll know it’s go-time when I throttle my engine.

Behind him are our two prospects, Rosco and Stixx, both looking alive and alert. This is their first assignment that doesn’t have them sitting behind a desk taking calls or filing papers, so I suppose they’re raring to prove themselves to us. They’ll have to in order to earn their bottom rocker.

And at the end of the line is Rev, our tail gunner. He has a keen eye on us all, even before we hit the highway leading to our destination. Looking up, I notice Auto, our computer whiz, standing in the doorway with a mug of steaming coffee in his hand. When he lifts it up to wave us on, I switch gears and mentally prepare for today’s agenda.

Once my motor is nice and warmed up, I lift my hand in the air and twist my wrist with two fingers pointed in the air, our sign that it’s time to hit the road. The roar of our bikes as we pull out is like music to my ears.

To me, this is what brotherhood is all about, riding together and living outside of the box.

CHAPTER ONE

LUNA

Nerves takeflight in my belly as I look at my reflection staring back at me from the hotel’s mirror. I twist my body from left to right, inspecting my outfit and practicing my welcoming, game day smile while doing so.

I don’t do well in crowds, I have what some refer to as a RBF face, but it’s not because I’m a mean person who enjoys scowling at others, it’s because I don’t always mesh well with others.

My mom says it’s because I’m sensitive, empathic even, and feed off others. So if they’re stressed out or having a bad day, I tend to pick up and exhibit their emotions.

This isn’t my first book signing as an independent published author, but it’s a significant one considering the genre I write.

Motorcycle club and shifter romance. Rawr.

I love creating an alpha man, both in and out of human skin, who loves getting down and dirty with his woman behind closed doors.

The more protective and dominant, the better in my opinion.

“You can do this,” I say, giving myself a pep talk. “Don’t let others’ feelings affect yours. You’re strong. You’re impenetrable. Keep that smile on your face, girl.”

Nodding my head, I swivel on my heels and pluck my laptop bag from the floor that I packed my personal belongings—wallet, keycard, as well as my cash and credit cards into last night before hitting the bed.

There are other talented writers attending MMM whose books I enjoy reading and would like to add their paperbacks to my bookshelf stash.

“Remember, Luna. You’re an author yourself so don’t go all fan girl on your unicorn authors.” That last reminder is said aloud as I close my hotel room door behind me. “It’s go time.”

From here, I have to keep my poker face on. I don’t want to be unapproachable, so I’ll be thinking of things that make me happy throughout the day.

The elevator ride down to the main floor is eventful, loaded with excited attendees. I don’t have my lanyard on saying who I am, and my profile picture on social media is my logo, so I’m not recognized by them as of yet. But my excitement for the day grows as I overhear them discussing my series.

When I was in school, I struggled to get good grades. As an adult, I was diagnosed with dyslexia—a learning and reading disorder that wasn’t tested in the school district we resided in and I attended when I was younger. I was always told that I was stupidand my dream of writing stories as they unfold in my mind was an impossibility as far as career goals go.

My mom always worried that I’d end up in a menial job and wouldn’t be able to support myself. But when I started proofreading for a few of my favorites and they talked me into giving my dream a try, I was surprised when I accomplished it. And after meeting a few new friends in the industry, and gathering my tribe, they helped me with editing, taught me how to format, hooked me up with cover designers as well as photographers, and they gave me their indepth attention when it came to smoothing out my plotlines and looking for holes so the stories flowed.

I will forever be grateful to them for taking me under their wings and teaching me how to fly. None of them judged me for misused words or spelling errors, and that gave me the confidence to continue along this path.

Their endless encouragement and teaching made a difference in how I approached my books. Some of them I’ve never met in person, then there are others who live nearby and we’ve had a few lunch dates plus group writing sessions.

I’m brought out of my thoughts as I near the ballroom where we’ll be signing, I reach into my laptop bag and pull out my nametag. Only, my limbs are severely shaking with nervousness and I end up dumping everything out of it.

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