Back in August, we mentioned that we were working on a collaborative piece to be called Postcards from Sturgis. We didn’t give you a release date, because we were deep in the writing of it, and we had no idea when we’d be finished.
So, it gives us great pleasure to be able to tell you that we’ll be making this amalgamation of our imaginations available to you, on this blog, in PDF format, on 15th November 2014. (Disclaimer, I am not promising it will be from 00:00hrs on that date because we’re working across four different time zones here, and we haven’t nominated who’s posting it yet!)
This work isn’t exactly a novel, more a collection of pieces that follow on from each other to cover different aspects of the full week of the Sturgis rally. There will be two hundred and seventy pages of Freaky goodness for your reading pleasure. All we ask in return is that you consider making a donation to the Global Fund for Women, via the link that we will put on the post.
To whet your appetite, here’s a little sneaky peek, from the section titled Full Throttle…
Taz stayed in his spot at the bar next to the Horde named Len. He seemed like a decent enough guy. His SAA patch explained how close he stuck to his president’s side, not to mention his diplomacy in warding off a first-night stand-off. This wasn’t Taz’s first Sturgis, and he knew how things went in close quarters, but he sometimes had difficulties turning his internal, verbal filter off. He didn’t mean to blurt out that Horde comment in front of its president. It was a natural reaction. Wes was like a giddy kid, keeping the Skulls up-to-date like a good Intelligence Officer on the infamous ‘shoot-out on Main Street’ in Signal Bend, Missouri. Taz was quite sick of hearing about it. And part of this five-day excursion wasn’t just for brotherhood, booze and booty. Isaac Lunden wanted a sit-down with the officers-in-attendance to put any concerns to rest about this so-called movie based on what happened. Vic wasn’t too thrilled having his time cut into, but he was a long-timer and believed in allowing a man to speak his mind.
As far as Taz was concerned, as long as nothing bounced back into Tippitt, he could care less. He was here to enjoy himself, and the blonde standing several feet away, assessing him, quickly changed his thought route.
Not that any one girl stood out from the other here, but something about this one made Taz’s black eyes light up in the Throttle’s dim interior. Whereas women covered in nothing more than a g-string and strategically painted body-art was the look du jour, this girl looked as if she fell off a hay ride. Cut-off shorts, red-and-white checked halter, cowboy boots and long, silky, blonde hair. It was the kind of shade Taz knew didn’t come from a bottle. He had a few natural blondes in his life, and this was going to be added to the tally. She returned a smile, and his face split into a grin, thinking about a snug, little snatch covered in the same blonde silkiness. Holy fuck, the thought alone almost made him bust a nut.
Hearing his bar-mate make his own lascivious comment, he turned to see Len with a matching grin. The man had taste, he gave him that. But that’s all he was going to have right now. “Nice try, friend,” Taz told Len, never taking his eye off the blonde. “Go find those three groupies. This one’s mine.”
Len kept his own stare and leaned towards Taz as the girl soaked up the attention from the two men. “Care to wager that…friend?” To show he was serious, Len grabbed his wallet and fished out a twenty. “Put your money where that big, pierced mouth of yours is.”
Betting on pussy? Was this dude serious? Please. Taz would have this chick times three by the time Len made another selection. But Taz was a good sport. He was here to fuck, not fight, and the SAA didn’t seem to hold a grudge against him pulling a verbal Mt. Vesuvius with his president earlier. Their banter was all in good fun. Taz had no illusions about himself—he had a big fucking mouth.
Reaching for his own wallet, Taz produced a bill, pulling out a Grant instead of a Jackson. “I double the wager—plus.”
“Cocky bastard, aren’t we?”
That made his ringed lip twitch up. “Don’t get personal, friend. But, yeah. I’m a bastard—and a mama’s boy. So…how do we do this?”
Blondie stood waiting as if she knew what was going on and loved every minute of it. “Sit here and see which one she comes to,” Len told him. “But I got a feeling all that hardware’s gonna scare her off up close.”
“Is that another wager?”
Len looked as if he liked and loathed him at the same time. “You want it to be?”
Taz pulled out a twenty this time from his wallet. Len rolled his eyes and reached for his own before Taz shook his head. “Keep your money, brother. I’ll just ante up, that’s how sure I am. She goes with you, you’re up seventy bucks and a face-full of flaxen pussy. She chooses me, I take your money, blondie and her friend.”
Oh, Taz saw out of the corner of his eye while he had Len’s full attention. Flaxen Farmer Girl was joined by a friend. Similar style dress, and, by the looks of it, the carpet was bound to match the drapes.
Len’s head spun, catching the blonde duo in front of them. Then he gave Taz a look. “A man who doesn’t think one’s enough.”
“God gave me two hands for a reason.”
Len gave an impressive smirk then sat back as did Taz. Both men gave their best come-hither look, before Taz decided to cast the deal-breaker.
Clink, clink, clink.
Taz heard Len’s question even as both girls rushed over to him, resting their peachy bottoms on the tops of his thighs. Len looked like he had a case of whiplash as he stared at Taz, dumbfounded. “What the hell?”
Taz answered by sticking his tongue out and tapping its metal-studded tip against his upper teeth. The same clink, clink, clink. Len closed his eyes and leaned his head back in defeat as Taz stood up, bringing the girls back to their feet. “Actually, the hardware ain’t just for show.” He swiped the twenty off the counter just as several dudes wearing Red Rebel cuts came up to the bar. He playfully gave Len a salute. “Good doin’ business with you, brother. I’m sure those three honeys are around somewhere. Catch you later.”