No one's more shocked than I am that I don't have a weed-related "bake" reference for this week's #FridayFling. 😂 On the bright side, I get to spotlight Tikka Chance on Me! My "not-really-a-motorcycle-club romance but kind-of-a-romcom" novella. #romancelandia Buy links: books2read.com/u/mKKrNv

A square pink and yellow promo graphic with the Friday Fling hashtag and prompt at the top and my Tikka Chance on Me by Suleikha Snyder byline at the bottom. In between is the following excerpt: I had no idea what motorcycle clubs actually did, but I could guess. Largely thanks to that show that had been on cable for a while, Sons of Anarchy. While the small businesses of Eastville were happy for the influx of cash the club threw their way—allegedly balancing out the periodic shakedowns for protection money—it wasn’t like the Eagles were holding bake sales or Peanut Days like a local Kiwanis. The money was ill-gotten gains. Drugs. Guns. Who knew what else? Were we complicit because we served them whenever they came in? Was I morally bankrupt because I kept having fantasies about their enforcer? What the hell was he even enforcing? Despite all the questions, I still turned into a puddle of lust the next time I saw Trucker Carrigan. Or, at least, as puddled as a person could get while standing outside the Walmart garden center with a list of Mom’s current demands.