Drifter (MC Sinners Next Generation #2)By: Bella Jewel
As always, my heartfelt thanks to every single blogger, reader and author that has supported my journey. From reading my books, to sharing them, to raving about them, to being there for me. Thank you. My career would be nothing without any of you.
A huge thanks to Kylie from Give Me Books for organizing my reveals and blitzes. You do such an amazing job. No matter how many times I use you, I am always blown away by how efficient you are. Nothing is ever a drama. Thank you for giving me so much support.
A massive thanks to Louisa from LM Creations for this STUNNING cover. I love how effortlessly we work together, and somehow always come up with something this incredible.
To Lauren, my epic editor. You are the best thing since sliced bread, no lie. You seriously are the best person EVER to work with. You are quick and your notes always make me laugh. No one else could ever keep up with my writing pace, but you always nail it.
A big, heartfelt thanks to Rose from Read By Rose for this amazing proofread. You came in at the last moment and helped me in incredible ways, you’re truly epic and I can’t wait to work with you again.
And of course, to my admin, MJ, for ALWAYS keeping my page running beautifully. I couldn’t do it without you, girly. I love your teasers and your passion, thank you for taking the time out of your life to help this poor girl keep everything running.
And, last but certainly not least, to my loyal readers. To each and every one of you that picks up my books and give me a chance. To the reviews you write, good or bad. To the time you take to make me a better person. You make this real for me; never stop giving such love and passion. You make our journey so amazing.
Twisting my body to the side, I shuffle through the crowd that’s far bigger tonight than it has been in the last few times I’ve been into this bar. We got VIP tickets on a lucky break to come and see a local band, Wrath. I’d heard of them and, in desperate need of a night out, decided to enter a competition for the chance to win. Two tickets later, Pru—my best friend—and I made our way down to Eskimos, a local hotspot, to watch them play.
Finding a space amongst the crowd so I can see the stage, I press my back against the wall and wait, Pru bouncing anxiously by my side. We head off to college in Denver in just a few days, so this is the last chance we’ll have to get out and about before life in the real world starts. I turned twenty-one recently, and let’s just say I’ve been enjoying my newfound freedom. Being the daughter of an over protective biker can be slightly daunting at times.
That’s a lie.
It’s daunting all the time.
“Can you see them yet?” Pru cries into my ear, happily hopping from one foot to the other.
I grin at my best friend, who is no bigger than five foot. She boasts serious curves, and often says she’s on the chunky side, but most people we come across think she’s perfect. At least, most men do, anyway. They’re forever staring at her luscious curves and long, dark, exotic hair. Not to mention her eyes. She’s stunning and even more so tonight, in her clingy red dress that leaves little to the imagination. My dad would never let me leave the house in that—hell, he’d never even let something like that enter my closet.
“No,” I yell back. “But they’re due to start.”
“I’ve heard they’re hot!”
I roll my eyes. “You think anything with a penis is hot.”
She gapes at me. “No!”
I giggle and focus back on the crowd, then I reach down and adjust my black dress. It isn’t tight, but it’s firm enough on my skin that I feel slightly uncomfortable. The top of the dress is ruffled and dips low enough to show slight cleavage at the top. My dad wasn’t home when I left, and it’s the only reason I got away with it. Pru loaned it to me. The rest of the dress is semi-clingy, right down to my knees. It’s pretty. I left my blond hair down to cover some of the skin showing on my back.
“There they are!” she squeals.
I shift, trying to see the stage clearly as people start bobbing around trying to see. Three guys come on; one is holding a guitar and walks to the front of the stage, and the other two separate, one going to a keyboard and the other to a set of drums. The lights dip low, and I push up as high as I can on my heels to see better but it’s just about impossible. I focus on the singer holding the guitar and gasp as he steps into the light, curling his big hand around the microphone.