The MC’s Matriarch
1.1k Views · Ongoing · allisonslau1986
Before she became the MC’s matriarch, Marge was a preacher’s daughter with no intention of behaving.
New Mexico, 1986. Nineteen-year-old Marge knows exactly what people will say about her falling for Frank, the president of the Sons of Doom MC. He’s thirteen years older, a Vietnam veteran, and a man with a brotherhood to lead.
She wants him anyway.
What begins with attraction becomes a marriage and a family worth every whispered judgment. Frank gives her a life she loves—and when she loses him, she stays with the people who need her.
Decades later, Marge still has a sharp tongue, a full house of bikers to fuss over, and an opinion nobody asked for. She’s comfortable being the woman everyone depends on.
Raúl Serrano is making her uncomfortable.
She likes his company. She likes flirting with him. Admitting she wants more is where things get complicated.
Raúl understands loving someone who’s gone. He has his own memories, his own grief, and enough patience to let her talk about Frank without making her regret it.
He also makes her feel wanted in ways she hasn’t allowed herself to miss.
Marge has spent years telling grown men to get their heads out of their asses.
Now she’s running out of excuses to keep hers there.
New Mexico, 1986. Nineteen-year-old Marge knows exactly what people will say about her falling for Frank, the president of the Sons of Doom MC. He’s thirteen years older, a Vietnam veteran, and a man with a brotherhood to lead.
She wants him anyway.
What begins with attraction becomes a marriage and a family worth every whispered judgment. Frank gives her a life she loves—and when she loses him, she stays with the people who need her.
Decades later, Marge still has a sharp tongue, a full house of bikers to fuss over, and an opinion nobody asked for. She’s comfortable being the woman everyone depends on.
Raúl Serrano is making her uncomfortable.
She likes his company. She likes flirting with him. Admitting she wants more is where things get complicated.
Raúl understands loving someone who’s gone. He has his own memories, his own grief, and enough patience to let her talk about Frank without making her regret it.
He also makes her feel wanted in ways she hasn’t allowed herself to miss.
Marge has spent years telling grown men to get their heads out of their asses.
Now she’s running out of excuses to keep hers there.


















































