Charming (Sons Of Anarchy)

G'day, now this book I have enjoyed writing so far! I just hope you guys enjoy it just as I do!

Now I just want to point out, in this book, there are themes that are inappropriate for youngsters! When I mean themes I mean, a whole heap of 'language' (Swearing, for the people who don't get my drift.) And there are also sexual themes!

And several other things.

So I hope none of that turns you off my book, if so just please give it a go, that's all I ask. You could possibly enjoy it. I hope so.

Cheers

vampirewerewolves

-------------------------------------

I rode in on the highway to Charming, the wind was blowing in my face and the warm sun reflected off of my sunnies. Heat of the motor compressed against my jeans, heating up the skin on my leg. I had been riding nearly non-stop with a moving truck right behind me, it was expected that the motor would get hot.

Repeating the address of my house over and over again in my head, I hoped that I wouldn't forget it before I got to my new home. Being my stubborn self, I chose not to ask for directions but to instead, search for my house by the street name. After about 20 minutes of searching for, I finally found it. It wasn't as hard as I had expected.

It was a small cozy blue house with a garage and a beautiful garden out front. It was my dream house, nothing fancy.
Luckily I bought it at a bargain price, I definitely wasn't complaining. New house, new life, I could finally start off fresh.

I was originally from the Northern Territory, in the land down under. Australia of course. My family wasn't like any other family, our family wasn't all related by blood, but by the brotherhood of my father's motorcycle club. It wasn't the normal way a girl would grow up, it wasn't a normal family. Well that's what I had been told. Being a part of a motorcycle club wasn't something you would hear a lot, especially not in a small mining town. Growing up around this, I was introduced to the life of loud music, plenty of alcohol, the occasional drug usage and most of all the Harley's. It was the only life I knew, but being around a club had it's advantages and disadvantages. I grew up learning how to pull apart and put back together the motor of a Harley. I was also taught how to fight, to use my body as a weapon. But what I was most specialized with and interested in was the usage of knives. I loved them. Wherever I may have been, I always had a knife on me. It was just a habit my father got me into. He always said it was better to be safe than sorry. He was right.

My father never particularly enjoyed how involved I was with the club, reason being I was his only daughter. At times when I did go out and do the club's dirty work, he would panic that there was a chance I would never return in one piece. Luckily each time I did.

I wasn't a member of his motorcycle club, I wasn't exactly interested in becoming a member of it either. I already had my taste of being in a club, just by being the daughter of a president. I knew everything that went on in the club and some things I couldn't even speak about. It was specifically club business, no others were to know.

Being one of those girls coming from that type of background, I always tended to have people underestimate me. I wasn't the hopeless fragile woman that everybody suspected I'd be. But that's how I tricked people into thinking I was that way, being the way I was, I earned respect. Even if I had to prove myself, I still managed to gain people's respect and that was something I always wanted. Respect was everything to me, without respect what was there?

I was about five foot eight, big boned, toned with lightly tanned skin. I had long legs that made up almost 3/4 of my body. As they said, I was all legs. I had brown long wavy hair that looked golden in the sun and bright icey blue eyes. I didn't ever consider myself anything close to pretty, I was average. There was nothing special about me.