Ash – Dragon Riders MC Read online Savannah Rylan

Categories Genre: Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors:
Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)

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Ash - Dragon Riders MC

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Savannah Rylan

Book Information:

No one will touch her.
Hannah is feisty AF. She's sassy and got a fire in her, That sets my sheets ablaze. But she's got a past.
Hell, we all do. Her's involves an asshole ex, I'm going to have to deal with.
She's not willing to take any risks with him around. And my girl can't feel like that.
So I'll end him. Simple.
Except nothing's simple in the club life.
Books by Author:

Savannah Rylan



Eject the magazine. Check the bullets. Reload.

I made sure all of our handguns had clean magazines in them as well as two spares to pick up.

Break down the gun. Clean the bore. Wipe down the muzzle. Fix the trigger.

I picked up a few of our non-working handguns in our weapons arsenal and started fidgeting with them.

Replace the bulletproof gear. Find new cushion pads. Burn clothes with holes.

I went outside and started a small in-ground fire in order to toss our clothes before burying it altogether.

Now, check on the new shipments.

I walked over to the computer in our arsenal—which was really an outfitted storage building—and started dicking around. I needed to figure out when our next shipment of ammunition and bulletproof tactical gear was coming in. The Dragon Riders had some extra money, so we were amping up our game. Especially after the loss and bullshit we weathered with The Red Pythons. We needed to be ready at all costs. Because now that we knew the Pythons were working with the Golden Shitballs, we needed to make sure we could protect ourselves even when we weren’t on the prowl.

Which meant bulletproof gear underneath our clothes at times.

“Come on,” I murmured.

The sound of thunder boomed in the distance and I paused. Today was supposed to be bright and sunny. The weatherman told me that while I chugged back my coffee this morning. So, what the fuck was a storm doing off in the distance?


The walls of the metal storage building shivered with the resounding clap. I pushed myself away from the computer and stood up, making my way for the latched door. I saw light flashing beneath the door before another hearty boom ricocheted over my head. And the second I flipped the lock, I heard rain pouring down onto the metal roof by the gallons.

“What the fuck?” I whispered.

Wind howled so heartily that I had to shove the door to get it open. And when it flew open, banging against the outside of the storage shed, I shielded myself from the pelting rain. Great. Just fucking grand. My bike was out in the middle of the goddamn rain and I had nowhere else to put it. And I wasn’t even done with my assignment in our weapons arsenal in the first place.

Guess I’ll do it tomorrow.

My phone vibrated against my leg and I groaned. I reached for the metal door and grunted, pulling it back until it closed altogether. The sound of the rain alone against the metal structure damn near drowned out the thunder shaking the ground beneath my feet. But when I saw Sly calling me, the hairs on the nape of my neck stood on end.

“What?” I asked.

“Church, Ash. It’s an emergency. Get to the Iron Horse now.”

I hung up the phone and jammed it back into my pocket. I walked over to the computer and quickly shut it down, staying to make sure it turned completely off. Then, I disconnected the internet so no one could hop onto the network and hack our technology I had in this place. This weapons’ cache was my pride and joy. A personal project I took on for the crew a few years back. Took me a while to scout out the proper place, but this storage shed off in the corner of the lot had done us well over the years.

Plus, with a bit of money under the table, the owner of the place didn’t ask questions. Which meant we could all come and go at all hours of the night with no cameras hooked up anywhere near the private building.

After pulling out the keys to my bike, I charged out into the storm. Lightning flashed and thunder cracked as I threw my leg over the soaked vehicle. I cursed beneath my breath as I slid my helmet on, shivering as I cranked up the engine. I pulled away from the storage building while the wind whipped around me, as if it were preventing me from trying to leave.

But the horsepower behind my bike was stronger than any storm that wanted to keep me grounded.

That didn’t mean the trip was easy, though.

Riding a bike in the rain was like trying to do anything while also having to pee: it was a bitch. Everything I tried to do made me feel unsteady on the road. Every time I tried to turn a corner, I had to squeeze my thighs just a bit tighter to keep a grip on the damn thing. And just when I thought the issue would resolve itself, the sensations would come back harder and more fervent for another round of torture.