Chrome and Hot Women: Wayward Angels: Book-1

Chrome and Hot Women: Wayward Angels: Book-1 by Melanie Vance

Book: Chrome and Hot Women: Wayward Angels: Book-1 by Melanie Vance Read Free Book Online
Authors: Melanie Vance
Chapter-1
Club Meeting
     
    Cece Myers pulled her Harley onto the gravel parking lot in front of The Lavender Light, a lesbian club on the outskirts of Denver, Colorado. She dismounted, removing her black full-face helmet. She stood there, shaking her long raven hair before running her hairbrush through it. She hated helmet hair, but unless you cut it short, it came with the territory when you chose the riding lifestyle.
    She loved the freedom that came with riding her bike. It was therapy on two wheels for her, after a stressful day on the job. Cece worked for a construction company as a highway flagger. It could be a dangerous job at times. Many people thought it was their God-given right to speed through a construction zone. People could be so self centered and rude these days. It did, however, pay well.
    Cece enjoyed her job most of the time. She liked being outdoors, so it was well suited to her. She had recently moved from her apartment in Denver, Colorado about forty miles north to Longmont, so she could be closer to her brother Randy and her dad, Dale. Her brother was five years older than she was and they had been quite close as kids. Their mother had been what you would call a bar-fly and had taken off with some man to parts unknown when Cece was only four. She could barely remember her mother. Her brother, who was nine at the time remembered her much better. Her father was brokenhearted and angry, but in her opinion, he had become one hell of a great single dad.
    She had purchased a house with an attached garage so she could work on her bikes. She had recently picked up a 1950 Triumph Thunderbird at auction, the type Marlon Brando had ridden in The Wild One . It was a lucky find for her and she was itching to restore it. Being laid off from her job in the winter made it all possible. She looked forward to spending some time in her garage during the snowy Colorado winters.
    She stepped through the front door of The Lavender Light, looking like the typical biker with her black leather jacket, gloves, blue jeans, leather chaps and boots.
    It was Sunday afternoon, a slow day in general at The Lavender Light, which made it perfect for the monthly meeting of the women's motorcycle club she belonged to. Cece was president of the Wayward Angels Motorcycle Club. The leader of the pack, so to speak. She had inherited the position by majority vote when Stephanie Wells, the original founder of the club, moved to Las Vegas. Her husband's job was transferred, so off she rode into the sunset, so-to-speak.
    The club consisted of a mix of straight and gay women. It was, however, for women only. They were a tight knit group of all ages  and occupations. The youngest member was a twenty-one year old college student who was about to enter her senior year at the University Of Colorado, in the fall.
    The oldest and newest member of the club, was a widow in her early sixties, Madge Delaney, who worked as a part time housekeeper for Kelsey Savage, a well known architect and designer from Denver. If there was a position for club humorist, Madge would have it hands down. The woman was hilarious. Not only that, she rode the most awesome Harley trike around!
    Cece waved at the bartender and current owner of The Lavender Light, Cookie Knight. Cookie was a good looking blonde woman around five foot eight, who had just enough extra meat on her bones to make her very lovable, indeed. At least that was Cece's opinion. She had dark eyebrows and a disarming smile with eyes that sparkled. She was miss congeniality and perfect for the job. Cookie had bought the bar when the last owner sold the place five years ago.
    "How's it going, Cece?" Cookie called out from behind the bar. She was busy polishing beer glasses with a white cloth.
    "Not bad. How 'bout yourself?"
    "Can't complain."
    "Ah, nobody wants to listen to us anyway."
    "For sure. Can I get you anything?"
    "I'll take a Coors draw in one of those freshly polished glasses of yours."
    "Comin'

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