I Drove His Harley Into the Lake

Birdie McCallister kept the books, kept the counter, and kept her mouth shut for eleven years while her husband Dice ran his mouth and his hands wherever he liked. Then she found the pregnancy test in his saddlebag, and something quiet in her chest went ahead and made a plan. No screaming. No scene at the clubhouse. Just eleven days, a state board complaint, a sold-out parts room, and one very nice Shovelhead rolling into Mill Creek Reservoir. Birdie didn't burn the Blue Saints down. She just gave them the paperwork. Now Dice is out, Cammy is at her door asking for a job, and Birdie is exactly where she meant to be. There is no grovel in this book. There is only a woman, a lake, and a clean exit.