CHAPTER 1

“Uncle Joe!” The little girl was completely unfazed by the fact that the huge, long haired, muscle bound man astride a big black Harley had killer written all over him. When you’re four years old, you only really care about the candy in his pocket and that riding in front of him on his bike is the most thrilling thing in the world.
Joe ’Tiny’ Taylor, hit man, enforcer for The Freaks MC and, right now, best person in the whole wide world, dismounted and picking up the little girl, placed her on his hip. “Hi sugar. You got a kiss for your Uncle Joe?”
She planted a sticky kiss on his lips and he laughed. “Ugh, what have you been eating?”
“We made cakes. Auntie Beth let me lick the bowl.” She frowned. “You got me candy?”
Joe made a show of searching his pockets. “Uncle Joe, it’s in that pocket, silly.” Rolling her eyes, she reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a lollipop. “You are very silly, Uncle Joe.”
“I know sugar. How about I take you home. Beth will be worried.”
Again, those baby blue eyes rolled. “Auntie Beth wont be worried, she heard you, and I am four you know.”
Joe grinned. No Beth wouldn’t be worried. Just grateful for the five minutes respite that he had provided. He set her on the ground and walked with her to her small, run down home. She ran ahead. “Beth. Joe’s here.”
Beth turned from the kitchen sink, where she was washing up after an obviously messy baking session. “Hey.”
Crossing the small kitchen, he kissed her softly. “You look like you’ve been having fun.” He frowned as he looked around. “Where’s Maria?”

Beth shrugged. “I dunno. She called me the day before yesterday, freaking out as usual. As soon as I got here, she took off. Haven’t seen her since.” She dried her hands. “She swore to me she was clean. How am I supposed to do this Joe?”
Joe’s eyes fell on the little girl sitting at the kitchen table, licking her lollipop. “She ain’t your responsibility.”
“No she isn’t. But if I don’t take care of her who will?”
“I’ll talk to ma. Reckon her and the rest of the coven can organize something, they can keep an eye on her.”
“Joe! They are not a coven.”
He grinned. “Whatever. You’d change your mind if you saw them cackling round the table when I walk in.” He tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “You have school, a future. I know you love Amy- we all do- but you cannot let your sister ruin your life as well as hers. Let me talk to ma.”
Beth smiled. “What would I do without you?”
“You’ll never have to find out.” He kissed her forehead, before turning and tousling Amy’s hair. See you later sugar.

Beth watched through the window as he vaulted the fence and stalked next door to his mom’s house. She couldn’t remember a time when Joe wasn’t part of her life. It was his mom who made sure she and Maria had hot food inside them or let them sleep in the spare room when their junkie mother was too stoned to take care of them – a family trait her sister had inherited – or they were hiding out from the latest crazy boyfriend. If it wasn’t for Joe she would have never have had the courage to leave her abusive husband or go back to school.
She looked down as her niece stood next to her, licking her lollipop, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I really love uncle Joe.”
Beth picked her up and kissed her sticky cheek. “You and me both, Amy.”

Sophia Taylor looked up from her bridge game as her son walked through the door. “Joe! What a lovely surprise, you never said you were coming.”
He walked over and kissed her cheek. “Was passing, thought I’d drop by.”
He rolled his eyes as his mother flashed her friends a triumphant look. – they were very competitive, regarding their offspring’s visits.- “I’ve just seen Beth. Maria’s taken off again.”
“Oh no, she was doing so well.” Sophia looked over to her friends, the coven. “I’m sure we can take care of Amy. Beth needs to get back to San Francisco.” She gathered up the cards. “I’m sorry ladies, we’ll continue our game tomorrow and discuss how best to take care of Amy. But right now I need to make dinner for my son.” She gave Joe a smile. “Why don’t you and keep Beth company for a while, I’ll call you when dinner’s cooked.”
Joe sighed. His ma was constantly trying to throw them together. She would never give up on the idea that they were perfect for each other. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Beth, he did. A lot. But she was destined for better things than a second rate life as the old lady of a nomad.
He watched as his ma bustled her friends out of the house. He knew they would take care of Amy. This neighbourhood may have been poor, but it was close knit. They would always look out for one another.

Sophia knew that her son thought she was a silly old woman sometimes and that the idea of him and Beth was ridiculous. She knew different, though. She firmly believed that if Joe was with the right woman, he’d settle down in one place. She knew he’d never give up that club of his, and in some ways she was glad of that. It may have been the cause of many a sleepless night, but it had also calmed him down. Without it, she was sure he’d have ended up like so many of his peers. Drifting aimlessly through life with a serious drug habit, or worse. She wasn’t entirely sure what he did for the club, but she was pretty sure it was bad. But at least all that violence inside him was focused now. He no longer lashed out the way he used to. Hurting those he loved the most.
“Joe.” She smiled. “Why don’t you go and get Beth and Amy. I’ve cooked enough for four.”
Later, full on fajitas, they crashed on Sophia’s, ridiculously comfy, sofa in front of the television. Amy climbed onto Joe’s lap and, closing her eyes, stuck her thumb in her mouth. “I lub you Joe.” She mumbled.
“I love you too sugar.”
“You gonna stay wid us?”
“I can’t sugar.”
“Jus’ tonight?”
Joe sighed. He needed to be in Seattle by tomorrow night.
“Okay. But I’ll be gone before you get up.”
She nodded and snuggled deeper into his chest. “Will you put me to bed?”
“Sure.”
“And read me a story?”
“And read you a story.”
He sat on the edge of the bed in his ma’s spare room, reading Winnie the Pooh and stroking her hair. She looked up. “Uncle Joe.”
“Yes sugar?”
“If you married Auntie Beth, you could be my mommy and daddy.”
He shook his head. “Don’t think I’d be a very good daddy.”
“You would. You could buy me lollipops every day.”
She closed her eyes and he sat with her until he was sure she was asleep. Then Joe Taylor, hit man, enforcer and best person in the whole wide world, climbed on his bike and rode off into the night.

Hi Everyone;

Some of you may have discovered by now that I have pulled my Sons of Anarchy fan fiction from FF.Net.  I have since converted Redemption and The Garden of Evil (it’s sequel) to .pdf  as well as my very first story, The Night That Changed Everything and have re-uploaded them here to have record of my word and also for anyone new who wants to enjoy.  You can find them here:

Redemption (Happy/OFC)

TGOE  (Happy/OFC;  Juice/OFC)

NOTE:  The above two stories are part of a saga.  The titles below are the rest, in order, which I will work on getting up soon:

Rendezvous (Hap/Amanda 2-shot)

Reaction (Hap/Amanda/Tig)

Best Laid Plans (Hap/Amanda 3-shot)

Grand Illusion (Tig/Daisy)

Bending The Rules (Tig/Daisy)

Wedding Bell Black ‘n Blues (Amanda/Daisy 4-shot)

The Night That Changed Everything is a stand-alone and not part of a series/saga

Thanks!

Elayne (aka Happy’s Hitwoman)

So this is “FuzzyPeaches1″ from the Fanfiction.net universe. The Freak Circle writers you know and love (and I count myself as one of their fans, most definitely) have invited me to post here to keep my stories around for you rabid, insane, amazing Sons of Anarchy Fanfiction readers. So this is a shortish, ten-chapter Happy Fanfiction. This is the first time I had tried writing for Happy, so I hope you like it!

Happy Gets His Girl (entirely)

I will continue to transfer my Fanfiction stories over to this blog, the longer ones just take more time to reread and fix up. But they’re coming, too!

Like everyone says, everything you recognize is the property of Sons of Anarchy creator Kurt Sutter and the genius folks at FX who let him do pretty much whatever the f*ck he wants. Or maybe you read a stolen fanfic at some point … (just kidding – that’s not this story). Anything you don’t recognize is mine.

A Family Man. Sarah Osborne

After much procrastination, I’ve finally done it

Over the last few months, those of you who follow me on Twitter have been aware of the drama surrounding my friend Pug and his new girlfriend. It’s hard to express in 140 characters just how much this guy means to me, and how much the thought of losing his friendship breaks my heart, so I thought I’d share our story here.

I have known Pug all my life, quite literally. From when he was still Paul and I could see his house from my bedroom window, he’s always been there. His mum and mine were close friends, always in and out of each other’s houses, and when his folks divorced when he was about seven, my dad kind of adopted him. I was never sure whether he just felt sorry for him, or whether it was because he’d always hankered after a son. But whatever the reason, some of my earliest memories are of my dad working on his garden with Pug “helping” him.

Pug is a year older than me, and when I started school he assigned himself my protector. I was little and shy, an easy target for the bullies. But back then, as now, he was a fearsome fighter and knowing he was there, I grew to be brave and confident. I often wonder how I would have turned out if it wasn’t for him.

Growing up in a tiny village, surrounded by countryside could be described as idyllic. With hardly any traffic on the roads, we were allowed to run wild. We swam and built dams in the river, “scrumped” fruit from orchards and went on mammoth bike rides. I can see us all now. A bunch of grubby kids and dogs, out from the crack of dawn, till the rumbling in our bellies told us it was time to go home.

It was hard when, at eleven, Pug went of to secondary school in the nearby town. I remember being terrified at the thought of being left behind, as I watched him in his blazer and tie, set off to catch the school bus. We drifted apart a little then. He still came round on Saturday mornings to work on the garden with dad, and in the early evening, we’d snuggle up on the sofa to watch Dr Who. I still loved my dorky friend with his stupid haircut and mouth full of metal.

Just before my fifteenth birthday, I started dating the local bad boy. Pug didn’t approve and tried to warn me that I was going to get hurt. I didn’t listen. I’d had a crush on him for ever, and the fact that he was older than me, with a short temper and quick fists wasn’t going to stop me.

Maybe it was because I was young, or maybe I was blinded by love, I’m not sure, but I failed to see how controlling and possessive this guy was. One by one, my friends started to drift away, including Pug. And I didn’t even notice.

Pug left school and went off to agricultural college and I continued to focus all my attention on my destructive relationship, until, when I was nineteen the inevitable happened and he hit me. For me that was the final straw, I may have been prepared to kid myself I was happy, but I wasn’t going to let myself be used as a punch bag. Of course it wasn’t as simple as that. The weeks that followed were hell. I was bombarded with abusive phone calls, had my door kicked in and on several occasions, the neighbors called the police. Deciding I’d had enough, I moved back in with my parents and a short while later, my ex was jumped when leaving the pub and received a severe beating. Pug always said it had nothing to do with  him, but whatever the reason, the harassment stopped.

Over the next few years we went our separate ways but our paths would cross occasionally. He got a job as a gamekeeper in Kent and got himself an old lady and I took of around Europe with a girlfriend. We were still there for each other. When I got rushed into hospital, he visited everyday, and when his mum fell ill, it was my shoulder he cried on.

The biker community is pretty close knit, and sometimes, after me and Oz got together, we’d bump into one anther on ride outs. We had several mutual friends and our mums kept us in the loop, but we’d go months without seeing or speaking to each other.

In 1989 his mum died. After the funeral, when everyone had drifted away, we grabbed the dogs and headed off out over the fields, visiting all those places we’d hung out as kids. It was like we’d never been apart as we reminisced.

When he moved back to the area again, a short while later, we started to get close again. He and his old lady were going through a rough patch and he spent a lot of time at our place.

I’m lucky that Oz wasn’t threatened by our friendship and encouraged it. He had known Pug before we met, and now they are really close, both taking huge pleasure in teasing me over just about anything.

I can’t imagine life without pug in it. He knows things about me that no one else does. I love going on long walks with him, getting drunk with him, or just hanging out in front of the TV. After Oz, he was the first to hold my son, and when Oz was diagnosed with cancer, it was him I called.

I’m glad he has someone to share his life with. He’s been on his own for a long time and deserves to be happy. It’s clear, though, that his girlfriend doesn’t like me, and my presence is causing a problem for them both, so now it’s time for me to step away.

I will always love him, and will always be there for him. But as she’s planning on moving in with him, I think this will be the last time I visit. I hope our friendship survives and this is just a glitch. Oz seems to think it is, I’m just praying he’s right.

Despite it being in pretty much every fanfic about him, it had all been guesses until season 5 when we finally saw Happy doing some ink. I’d say that’s worth a post on the blog with a few pics of the event.

I also hope none of you has missed the fact that we’ve also started a blog for our original work. There’s already some teasers up there for you to read. All of them with bikers. Let us know what you think here: FC Press

I’ve noticed something lately…

As some of you know I always use one or several pictures of my characters as I write, it just helps and it’s not in the drooling-section of looking at them. If I get stuck in a conversation, staring at the picture helps. Either way; Last year when I was writing a SOA Fanfiction and needed a picture of a hot, bearded, preferably tattooed, guy. Also preferably semi-famous since it helps if I have more than one picture of the person if it’s a main character. I ended up on a musician.

Last few months, writing the originals, I’ve needed pictures of bearded, preferably tattooed, men and jesus fucking christ! They are not hard to find anymore. Obviously the fashion industry has realized that the men with a German square jaw isn’t for every woman and the male models with tattooed and long beard have just exploded. This seems to be a predominantly UK thing still. Most of these guys are British, but I’m guessing the US industry is gonna catch up with their own version within sex months. Their own version obviously being slightly more styled, a lot more muscles and just more extreme. Since it’s always more extreme in the US.

I’m still trying to figure out if I like it or if I’m just tired of the fashion industry once again exploiting and underground scene (do I need to remind you about punk, grunge, rave etc?). I’m leaning towards the last, but at the same time it does help me finding characters so I’m not gonna argue too much about it.

Since we might as well enjoy it before we’re so bored we just want to die. Here’s some examples.

Ricki Hall:

Miles Better:

Christ John Millington:

Jimmy Q:

Billy Huxley:

Some of the Freaks, including me, are working on original fiction. I have just published the first original novel of the FC on Amazon. It’s called Move the Sun. Here’s the link, if you’re interested. :)

Move the Sun, by Susan Fanetti

Arrow of Time is now for sale on Amazon

For European buyers, it might be cheaper to buy on Amazon.co.uk  I know for a fact it’s a lot cheaper for Swedish buyers at least.

Synopsis and cover:

After traveling around the world for six years, both running from her past and seeking her future, Edie Yates is back in Greenville, Arizona to reconnect with her older sister, Melanie. While Edie was away, Melanie married Brick Baxter, president of the Marauder Riders MC, and found a real family, the likes of which neither Melanie nor Edie had ever known. Now Melanie wants Edie to know the love and security of that family.

And she does. In the Marauders, Edie finds brothers, nieces and nephews, even a surrogate father or two. She begins to settle in, though she still struggles with her past.

And she finds Dawg, who earns his road name regularly. He loves women, and they love him. Edie knows he’s bad news, and she tells him she’s not interested. But he’s funny and charming, and she enjoys his company.

Dawg knows he isn’t boyfriend material. He doesn’t want to be boyfriend material. He likes being a dawg. And he’s far too smart to hit on his president’s sister-in-law. But she’s interesting. She’s had a life, been everywhere. He enjoys talking with her. When she makes it clear that she’s not interested, and he makes it clear that he’s not stupid, they begin to forge a friendship.

They become close—real friends.

And then everything explodes.

Decades of imagination, 2 unfinished original works of fiction and 2 dozen completed fan fictions later, I finally decided to ask myself why I find such release with writing.  What does it mean to me, why my head won’t stop conjuring up scenarios and plots and the burning need to get it down on paper before it consumes me?  In order to do that you’ll need a bit of back story.  Well…..a LOT of back story.  Bear with me.  Here goes:

We’ll start with the first thing I mention – imagination.  Without this, an idea will be just that.  Mine has always been overactive and it all started back when I was ten-ish and my girlfriend across the street and I would re-enact scenes from The Partridge Family in my basement.  Yes, that’s right – The Partridge Family.  Don’t think I don’t hear you laughing.  I was madly in love with David Cassidy and, dammit, was going to marry him someday!  The biggest point of contention between my girlfriend and I was who was going to play Laurie.  She always did.  I didn’t mind because she was Keith’s sister and, well, I didn’t want to be his sister, ya know?

We then began shying away from re-enacting actual episodes to creating our own plot devices for the Puka Necklace’d one.  That began my need to fulfill what I had in my mind for the show and its characters as opposed to what the actual writers gave me.  It’s called fantasy.

Later on, when my love for David Cassidy began to wane and traded in my obsession with teen idols to for bonafide rock stars, my mind still put me in various incidents with these guys, but never moved to paper.  Oh, God no!  I didn’t want physical evidence of journeying to Rockford, IL, meeting Robin Zander of Cheap Trick, marrying him then putting a wedge between him and Rick Nielsen, ala Yoko Ono.    Or when the eighties rolled around and (screw Jon Bon Jovi) Richie Sambora had me taking too many weekend trips to visit my brother in New Jersey in the hopes that I would run into him.  Still, all these imaginary interludes existed only in my head long before I knew there was such a thing as ‘fan fiction’ and, even if I did, well, you know…..the evidence thing and all.  I didn’t have a computer back then so to physically write this stuff down would make me cringe.

The 90’s were slow as the grunge movement and Kurt Cobain’s striped sweaters didn’t have the effect the sprayed, spandexed, eye –linered hair metal dudes did.  I met my future hub in ’91, married in ’96 so I was actually decided to try something different by focusing on actual people and relationships.  I’m sure my imagination was still in play, but it wasn’t an era where anything enraptured me enough to obsess about.  So I began to read – actual books.  I developed a love for historical romances (English/Scottish medieval and some regency) and devoured them.  I spent lunchtime at the library taking them out because I bought way too many.  I wanted to write one so badly, but damn the research required to write a medieval would be daunting.  However, I had read enough of them to where I had the basics and could take creative licensing with time and place, as I found out from a small RWA critique group I once belonged to, a lot of authors create fictional places and countries.

I loved writing this type of story, especially painting the rich detail of medieval life from the morning routines, sumptuous clothing, jewel encrusted supper-ware as well as distinguishing the two classes of castle life – nobles and servants. I got as far as 16 chapters and worked with my RWA group to help hone my skills.  But something happened in 2000 which pulled my writing endeavors in a different direction.  The band, Def Leppard, released their tenth album.

Yes, you heard correct.   Do not adjust your dials or clean out your ears.  I am putting it out there that between 2000 & 2004 I wrote not one, not two, but, er….a dozen DL FF’s which I posted to a DL FF Yahoo Group (and also moved to an…..brace yourself….Angelfire website where they live for eternity.  If anyone wants the link, and keep their anonymity about wanting it – PM or email me.  I won’t tell anyone you asked for it – LOL!!) I don’t know what it was when my interest in the group suddenly skyrocketed to the point I had to write about a bunch of British rock stars whose heyday was in the 80’s, but when I came across the Yahoo Group who shared the same passion, I knew I found kindred spirits.

I began writing like a fiend – the plots, ideas and premises coming to me faster than I could write them.  Along the way, I honed my writing skills even more, while able to relax and create without having to adhere to the rigid constraints of publishing rules.  And having actual characters with established backgrounds already set up, it freed me to concentrate on plot, details and OCs.

But as does any site where people of various tastes contribute work for critique (cough::FF.Net::cough), things began to get squirrely, tempers got testy and ‘tudes got in a snit.  Having had enough, and my interest looking for another outlet, I quit writing DL FF and left the group mid-2004.  By then, my energies were channeled towards more serious personal issues – more specifically, my husband and I having to purchase his mother’s house in order to legally get his abusive sister out so we could move in and help take care of his mom.  I’ll not get into the gritty, dirty details, but between Oct 2004 and early 2008 we dealt with being ostracized from his family, his mom having a stroke and dying and trying to keep his business afloat while starting my own part time bookkeeping business.  By then, writing of any kind had become a distant memory.

Until……..

In the summer of 2009 a co-worker was gushing how she couldn’t wait until September when the 2^nd season of Sons of Anarchy started.   She began telling me about the first season and the premise and gushing about how cutie-patootie Jax is (yeah, we’ll get to THAT later!), blah, blah, blah.  I then began to see previews for the 2^nd season on tv (not having seen the 1^st) and it intrigued me.  I then went to On Demand and watched all the 2^nd season ‘shorts’ to get more of an insight on the characters.  I then watched the entire first season on CastTv for free (well, back when it WAS free) and HOLY SHIT I was effin’ hooked!  Not by the whiny little blonde prince Jax or freaky Tig or the Scottish actor I remembered from Braveheart, but Ron ‘effin’ Perlman.  The writing, the pacing, the character insights, the buildup was fabulous (emphasis on ‘was’).  I was all set for season 2 which, to those of you who knew how it began and ended, was ah-mazing.

By the end of Season 3 when they all got carted off to jail, Stahl got her brains splattered and Chibs gave Jimmy O a matching set of ‘smiles’, I became so enthralled that I began to seek out SOA fan fiction.  I cut my teeth on some great authors and found some clunkers along the way as well.  Soon, reading wasn’t enough.  The writing bug crawled back into my ear and began whispering AU plots into my brain.  But who and what would I write about?  What kind of female lead should I have?  Do I go by what the show has given me as the ‘norm’ for outlaw MC culture or do I need to delve deeper for a more authentic feel?  I researched first – on the net, documentaries, etc.  I realized that hooking a woman up with these guys isn’t going to be the same dance the two sexes go through in the ‘civilian’ world.  But the idea of weaving a civilian female into the world of criminal, outlaw bikers was all I could think about and doing it would require a lot of time, energy and thought in order to make it work.  Or, in the words of another author (laughing warrior) whose work I had the pleasure of reading, I needed to ‘sell that shit’ to my readers.  Translation:  make it realistic.

Okay, so which Son gets the starring role?  I didn’t want to write about anyone on the show who already had hoards of screen time because, blah.  None of the cast of guys ‘pulled’ me in a leading man direction.  Plus they each had a good amount of backstory given to where I’d have to adhere to it for it to be somewhat plausible.  But at the end of Season 3, the mysterious, deadly club assassin named ‘Happy’ was patched in before being hauled off to jail.  Because he wasn’t part of the opening cast, he had little screen time/dialogue (which I would realize 3 years later is for the best!) and the barest bones of history.  Plus, he was kinda hot – tall, bald, sleek, cut, inked, dark-eyed, dangers and effin’ sexy as shit!  Perfect – I found my guy.

Now…..how do I implement a story complete with dialogue and a realistic romance with a guy who speaks no more than 3 words in a sentence and inks his kills on his body?  Moreso, how the hell do I write a woman who’d realistically understand and accept that?  (“Oh, so you like, kill people for a living?  OMG, that’s sooooo cool and hot and sexy and stuff.  I can, like, be your old lady and ride on the back of your bike and lord over sluts who try to hit on you?  Yeah, I can overlook what you do in order to get away with acting like a bratty bitch.” – NOT!!)  Now I’ve met my challenge.  The stories I had already read had the female leads as ‘established’ within the club (ie: established ol’ ladies, daughters, nieces, cousins, etc. of club members) so the writer’s need to convince the reader that she’s okay with all the bad shit they do isn’t an issue because, well, you know, she’s Clay’s long lost daughter, Bobby’s niece, Tig’s cousin so they were born all down and dandy with the MC’s shenanigans.  Carry a gun?  Drink like a fish?  Kick some ass?  Slice someone’s throat?  Grab a shovel and dig a hole – no problemo, dude.  But….what if the woman was a plain, ol’ civilian completely ignorant to a world which had their own rules, procedures, codes and ways to exact vengeance?

I wanted to do this.  It was going to be tough, but I had to do this.  When I first came on the site, there were only 450 SOA FF stories (now there’s over 2,000).  So far I hadn’t read many stories which had this ‘everyday’ woman so I was hoping it would be something different.  So, what scenario would it be?

I decided to re-watch Season 1 & 2 as those, in my own humble opinion, are the show’s gold standard.  One of the first season’s episode had Jax being cut off while riding his bike.  And in a princely, little fit, he chases the guy down to a convenience store, with Chibs in tow, where a fight with the guy ensues before said guy winds up with an ax to the head.  Meanwhile, in the background, Chibs winds up shielding a young woman, dressed in a business suit, from the mess.  For some reason, that image stuck as it was pretty much the kind of encounter I was searching for.

I swapped out Chibs for Happy, replaced the convenience store with a liquor store and moved the entire story out of Charming and into Tacoma (where the mysterious Happy switched charters from) then developed a female with a believable reason to have contact with all three.  On 12/27/10, I posted the first chapter of The Night That Changed Everything.

Appropriately, that story changed everything for me as a writer.  I received some awesome feedback, made some great connections and corresponded with other writers.  I was to stop at that story, but in April of 2011, I posted the first chapter of another Happy story called ‘Gets Better With Time’.  When it sounded like the title of a lame Lifetime movie, I changed the name when the proper theme of the story began to emerge.  It then became ‘Redemption’ – a 52 chapter saga which bent my mind into knots.  TNTCE was my first love, but Redemption is what I’m most proud of because I challenged myself like never before by inter-twining canon/OC characters, tying several storylines together, generating club business which the show hadn’t yet explored and found a way to make all of that fit around a romance which began one night in a cemetery and find a believable to connect Happy’s to the woman who finds him there in an uncompromising position and see that reason all the way through to the end.

This story introduced characters who became so real to me that I couldn’t pair him with anyone other than Amanda.  When it ended, it spawned several more stories in the same AU, with the same characters, introducing some new ones along the way and allowed me to ‘toy’ with current canon storylines to fuse with my AU.

However, by the end of Season 5 when that strong bond of family and love began to unravel on the show, where everyone was lying or lying about lying to each other and Gemma was practically the de facto president in her son’s lap, my interest in writing this genre began to die off.  The site was flooded with a bunch of very young writers whom I just could not get into and wrote about everything I was dead set against.  Along the way, I bonded with a set of authors whose work spoke volumes and began to voraciously follow them.  Now all but one or two have left and some have gone onto published works (yeah!)

I decided to leave writing altogether and find my refuge in my domestic side because everytime I watch Julie & Julia I get inspired to make beef bourguignon and homemade chocolate cream pie.  I set up a blog dubbed ‘The Weekend Wife’ as that’s pretty much what I am as a job and a business cause me to neglect my home during the week. I figured I could channel my urge to write there, but it didn’t satisfy the need to write about a woman finding herself in the sudden presence of a hot-ass biker.  And I like my men with an imposing presence, close-cut facial hair and a body that doesn’t look like a molded, waxed Abercrombie model.  Rough, scratched, scarred, imperfect.  And big – especially their hands.  A man’s hands say a lot about him – whether they’re revving an accelerator, punching some poor schmuck, tenderly stroking skin or gently holding a newborn baby.

Because I still continue to read, inspiration never leaves, which makes that imagination of mine bigger than ever.  And because I spent so much time writing biker genre, I began an original this past September which is twelve chapters in and plan to post a teaser soon on the FCP page.

As daunting a task it is, I simply love creating an other world, a town, a club, a person and the drama which will eventually bind all of them together from scratch.  To have something go from your head to your fingers to paper or monitor and have it wind up a full-fledged story complete with characters who have become real in your own mind is like taking a min-vacation from reality.  It became my fortress of solitude.  My sanctuary inside of myself.

It became, and still is, my private escape.

Elena (aka Happy’s Hitwoman)

CHAPTER 1

“Uncle Joe!” The little girl was completely unfazed by the fact that the huge, long haired, muscle bound man astride a big black Harley had killer written all over him. When you’re four years old, you only really care about the candy in his pocket and that riding in front of him on his bike is the most thrilling thing in the world.
Joe ’Tiny’ Taylor, hit man, enforcer for The Freaks MC and, right now, best person in the whole wide world, dismounted and picking up the little girl, placed her on his hip. “Hi sugar. You got a kiss for your Uncle Joe?”
She planted a sticky kiss on his lips and he laughed. “Ugh, what have you been eating?”
“We made cakes. Auntie Beth let me lick the bowl.” She frowned. “You got me candy?”
Joe made a show of searching his pockets. “Uncle Joe, it’s in that pocket, silly.” Rolling her eyes, she reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a lollipop. “You are very silly, Uncle Joe.”
“I know sugar. How about I take you home. Beth will be worried.”
Again, those baby blue eyes rolled. “Auntie Beth wont be worried, she heard you, and I am four you know.”
Joe grinned. No Beth wouldn’t be worried. Just grateful for the five minutes respite that he had provided. He set her on the ground and walked with her to her small, run down home. She ran ahead. “Beth. Joe’s here.”
Beth turned from the kitchen sink, where she was washing up after an obviously messy baking session. “Hey.”
Crossing the small kitchen, he kissed her softly. “You look like you’ve been having fun.” He frowned as he looked around. “Where’s Maria?”

Beth shrugged. “I dunno. She called me the day before yesterday, freaking out as usual. As soon as I got here, she took off. Haven’t seen her since.” She dried her hands. “She swore to me she was clean. How am I supposed to do this Joe?”
Joe’s eyes fell on the little girl sitting at the kitchen table, licking her lollipop. “She ain’t your responsibility.”
“No she isn’t. But if I don’t take care of her who will?”
“I’ll talk to ma. Reckon her and the rest of the coven can organize something, they can keep an eye on her.”
“Joe! They are not a coven.”
He grinned. “Whatever. You’d change your mind if you saw them cackling round the table when I walk in.” He tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “You have school, a future. I know you love Amy- we all do- but you cannot let your sister ruin your life as well as hers. Let me talk to ma.”
Beth smiled. “What would I do without you?”
“You’ll never have to find out.” He kissed her forehead, before turning and tousling Amy’s hair. See you later sugar.

Beth watched through the window as he vaulted the fence and stalked next door to his mom’s house. She couldn’t remember a time when Joe wasn’t part of her life. It was his mom who made sure she and Maria had hot food inside them or let them sleep in the spare room when their junkie mother was too stoned to take care of them – a family trait her sister had inherited – or they were hiding out from the latest crazy boyfriend. If it wasn’t for Joe she would have never have had the courage to leave her abusive husband or go back to school.
She looked down as her niece stood next to her, licking her lollipop, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I really love uncle Joe.”
Beth picked her up and kissed her sticky cheek. “You and me both, Amy.”

Sophia Taylor looked up from her bridge game as her son walked through the door. “Joe! What a lovely surprise, you never said you were coming.”
He walked over and kissed her cheek. “Was passing, thought I’d drop by.”
He rolled his eyes as his mother flashed her friends a triumphant look. – they were very competitive, regarding their offspring’s visits.- “I’ve just seen Beth. Maria’s taken off again.”
“Oh no, she was doing so well.” Sophia looked over to her friends, the coven. “I’m sure we can take care of Amy. Beth needs to get back to San Francisco.” She gathered up the cards. “I’m sorry ladies, we’ll continue our game tomorrow and discuss how best to take care of Amy. But right now I need to make dinner for my son.” She gave Joe a smile. “Why don’t you and keep Beth company for a while, I’ll call you when dinner’s cooked.”
Joe sighed. His ma was constantly trying to throw them together. She would never give up on the idea that they were perfect for each other. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Beth, he did. A lot. But she was destined for better things than a second rate life as the old lady of a nomad.
He watched as his ma bustled her friends out of the house. He knew they would take care of Amy. This neighbourhood may have been poor, but it was close knit. They would always look out for one another.

Sophia knew that her son thought she was a silly old woman sometimes and that the idea of him and Beth was ridiculous. She knew different, though. She firmly believed that if Joe was with the right woman, he’d settle down in one place. She knew he’d never give up that club of his, and in some ways she was glad of that. It may have been the cause of many a sleepless night, but it had also calmed him down. Without it, she was sure he’d have ended up like so many of his peers. Drifting aimlessly through life with a serious drug habit, or worse. She wasn’t entirely sure what he did for the club, but she was pretty sure it was bad. But at least all that violence inside him was focused now. He no longer lashed out the way he used to. Hurting those he loved the most.
“Joe.” She smiled. “Why don’t you go and get Beth and Amy. I’ve cooked enough for four.”
Later, full on fajitas, they crashed on Sophia’s, ridiculously comfy, sofa in front of the television. Amy climbed onto Joe’s lap and, closing her eyes, stuck her thumb in her mouth. “I lub you Joe.” She mumbled.
“I love you too sugar.”
“You gonna stay wid us?”
“I can’t sugar.”
“Jus’ tonight?”
Joe sighed. He needed to be in Seattle by tomorrow night.
“Okay. But I’ll be gone before you get up.”
She nodded and snuggled deeper into his chest. “Will you put me to bed?”
“Sure.”
“And read me a story?”
“And read you a story.”
He sat on the edge of the bed in his ma’s spare room, reading Winnie the Pooh and stroking her hair. She looked up. “Uncle Joe.”
“Yes sugar?”
“If you married Auntie Beth, you could be my mommy and daddy.”
He shook his head. “Don’t think I’d be a very good daddy.”
“You would. You could buy me lollipops every day.”
She closed her eyes and he sat with her until he was sure she was asleep. Then Joe Taylor, hit man, enforcer and best person in the whole wide world, climbed on his bike and rode off into the night.

Hi Everyone;

Some of you may have discovered by now that I have pulled my Sons of Anarchy fan fiction from FF.Net.  I have since converted Redemption and The Garden of Evil (it’s sequel) to .pdf  as well as my very first story, The Night That Changed Everything and have re-uploaded them here to have record of my word and also for anyone new who wants to enjoy.  You can find them here:

Redemption (Happy/OFC)

TGOE  (Happy/OFC;  Juice/OFC)

NOTE:  The above two stories are part of a saga.  The titles below are the rest, in order, which I will work on getting up soon:

Rendezvous (Hap/Amanda 2-shot)

Reaction (Hap/Amanda/Tig)

Best Laid Plans (Hap/Amanda 3-shot)

Grand Illusion (Tig/Daisy)

Bending The Rules (Tig/Daisy)

Wedding Bell Black ‘n Blues (Amanda/Daisy 4-shot)

The Night That Changed Everything is a stand-alone and not part of a series/saga

Thanks!

Elayne (aka Happy’s Hitwoman)

So this is “FuzzyPeaches1″ from the Fanfiction.net universe. The Freak Circle writers you know and love (and I count myself as one of their fans, most definitely) have invited me to post here to keep my stories around for you rabid, insane, amazing Sons of Anarchy Fanfiction readers. So this is a shortish, ten-chapter Happy Fanfiction. This is the first time I had tried writing for Happy, so I hope you like it!

Happy Gets His Girl (entirely)

I will continue to transfer my Fanfiction stories over to this blog, the longer ones just take more time to reread and fix up. But they’re coming, too!

Like everyone says, everything you recognize is the property of Sons of Anarchy creator Kurt Sutter and the genius folks at FX who let him do pretty much whatever the f*ck he wants. Or maybe you read a stolen fanfic at some point … (just kidding – that’s not this story). Anything you don’t recognize is mine.

A Family Man. Sarah Osborne

After much procrastination, I’ve finally done it

Over the last few months, those of you who follow me on Twitter have been aware of the drama surrounding my friend Pug and his new girlfriend. It’s hard to express in 140 characters just how much this guy means to me, and how much the thought of losing his friendship breaks my heart, so I thought I’d share our story here.

I have known Pug all my life, quite literally. From when he was still Paul and I could see his house from my bedroom window, he’s always been there. His mum and mine were close friends, always in and out of each other’s houses, and when his folks divorced when he was about seven, my dad kind of adopted him. I was never sure whether he just felt sorry for him, or whether it was because he’d always hankered after a son. But whatever the reason, some of my earliest memories are of my dad working on his garden with Pug “helping” him.

Pug is a year older than me, and when I started school he assigned himself my protector. I was little and shy, an easy target for the bullies. But back then, as now, he was a fearsome fighter and knowing he was there, I grew to be brave and confident. I often wonder how I would have turned out if it wasn’t for him.

Growing up in a tiny village, surrounded by countryside could be described as idyllic. With hardly any traffic on the roads, we were allowed to run wild. We swam and built dams in the river, “scrumped” fruit from orchards and went on mammoth bike rides. I can see us all now. A bunch of grubby kids and dogs, out from the crack of dawn, till the rumbling in our bellies told us it was time to go home.

It was hard when, at eleven, Pug went of to secondary school in the nearby town. I remember being terrified at the thought of being left behind, as I watched him in his blazer and tie, set off to catch the school bus. We drifted apart a little then. He still came round on Saturday mornings to work on the garden with dad, and in the early evening, we’d snuggle up on the sofa to watch Dr Who. I still loved my dorky friend with his stupid haircut and mouth full of metal.

Just before my fifteenth birthday, I started dating the local bad boy. Pug didn’t approve and tried to warn me that I was going to get hurt. I didn’t listen. I’d had a crush on him for ever, and the fact that he was older than me, with a short temper and quick fists wasn’t going to stop me.

Maybe it was because I was young, or maybe I was blinded by love, I’m not sure, but I failed to see how controlling and possessive this guy was. One by one, my friends started to drift away, including Pug. And I didn’t even notice.

Pug left school and went off to agricultural college and I continued to focus all my attention on my destructive relationship, until, when I was nineteen the inevitable happened and he hit me. For me that was the final straw, I may have been prepared to kid myself I was happy, but I wasn’t going to let myself be used as a punch bag. Of course it wasn’t as simple as that. The weeks that followed were hell. I was bombarded with abusive phone calls, had my door kicked in and on several occasions, the neighbors called the police. Deciding I’d had enough, I moved back in with my parents and a short while later, my ex was jumped when leaving the pub and received a severe beating. Pug always said it had nothing to do with  him, but whatever the reason, the harassment stopped.

Over the next few years we went our separate ways but our paths would cross occasionally. He got a job as a gamekeeper in Kent and got himself an old lady and I took of around Europe with a girlfriend. We were still there for each other. When I got rushed into hospital, he visited everyday, and when his mum fell ill, it was my shoulder he cried on.

The biker community is pretty close knit, and sometimes, after me and Oz got together, we’d bump into one anther on ride outs. We had several mutual friends and our mums kept us in the loop, but we’d go months without seeing or speaking to each other.

In 1989 his mum died. After the funeral, when everyone had drifted away, we grabbed the dogs and headed off out over the fields, visiting all those places we’d hung out as kids. It was like we’d never been apart as we reminisced.

When he moved back to the area again, a short while later, we started to get close again. He and his old lady were going through a rough patch and he spent a lot of time at our place.

I’m lucky that Oz wasn’t threatened by our friendship and encouraged it. He had known Pug before we met, and now they are really close, both taking huge pleasure in teasing me over just about anything.

I can’t imagine life without pug in it. He knows things about me that no one else does. I love going on long walks with him, getting drunk with him, or just hanging out in front of the TV. After Oz, he was the first to hold my son, and when Oz was diagnosed with cancer, it was him I called.

I’m glad he has someone to share his life with. He’s been on his own for a long time and deserves to be happy. It’s clear, though, that his girlfriend doesn’t like me, and my presence is causing a problem for them both, so now it’s time for me to step away.

I will always love him, and will always be there for him. But as she’s planning on moving in with him, I think this will be the last time I visit. I hope our friendship survives and this is just a glitch. Oz seems to think it is, I’m just praying he’s right.

Despite it being in pretty much every fanfic about him, it had all been guesses until season 5 when we finally saw Happy doing some ink. I’d say that’s worth a post on the blog with a few pics of the event.

I also hope none of you has missed the fact that we’ve also started a blog for our original work. There’s already some teasers up there for you to read. All of them with bikers. Let us know what you think here: FC Press

I’ve noticed something lately…

As some of you know I always use one or several pictures of my characters as I write, it just helps and it’s not in the drooling-section of looking at them. If I get stuck in a conversation, staring at the picture helps. Either way; Last year when I was writing a SOA Fanfiction and needed a picture of a hot, bearded, preferably tattooed, guy. Also preferably semi-famous since it helps if I have more than one picture of the person if it’s a main character. I ended up on a musician.

Last few months, writing the originals, I’ve needed pictures of bearded, preferably tattooed, men and jesus fucking christ! They are not hard to find anymore. Obviously the fashion industry has realized that the men with a German square jaw isn’t for every woman and the male models with tattooed and long beard have just exploded. This seems to be a predominantly UK thing still. Most of these guys are British, but I’m guessing the US industry is gonna catch up with their own version within sex months. Their own version obviously being slightly more styled, a lot more muscles and just more extreme. Since it’s always more extreme in the US.

I’m still trying to figure out if I like it or if I’m just tired of the fashion industry once again exploiting and underground scene (do I need to remind you about punk, grunge, rave etc?). I’m leaning towards the last, but at the same time it does help me finding characters so I’m not gonna argue too much about it.

Since we might as well enjoy it before we’re so bored we just want to die. Here’s some examples.

Ricki Hall:

Miles Better:

Christ John Millington:

Jimmy Q:

Billy Huxley:

Some of the Freaks, including me, are working on original fiction. I have just published the first original novel of the FC on Amazon. It’s called Move the Sun. Here’s the link, if you’re interested. :)

Move the Sun, by Susan Fanetti

Arrow of Time is now for sale on Amazon

For European buyers, it might be cheaper to buy on Amazon.co.uk  I know for a fact it’s a lot cheaper for Swedish buyers at least.

Synopsis and cover:

After traveling around the world for six years, both running from her past and seeking her future, Edie Yates is back in Greenville, Arizona to reconnect with her older sister, Melanie. While Edie was away, Melanie married Brick Baxter, president of the Marauder Riders MC, and found a real family, the likes of which neither Melanie nor Edie had ever known. Now Melanie wants Edie to know the love and security of that family.

And she does. In the Marauders, Edie finds brothers, nieces and nephews, even a surrogate father or two. She begins to settle in, though she still struggles with her past.

And she finds Dawg, who earns his road name regularly. He loves women, and they love him. Edie knows he’s bad news, and she tells him she’s not interested. But he’s funny and charming, and she enjoys his company.

Dawg knows he isn’t boyfriend material. He doesn’t want to be boyfriend material. He likes being a dawg. And he’s far too smart to hit on his president’s sister-in-law. But she’s interesting. She’s had a life, been everywhere. He enjoys talking with her. When she makes it clear that she’s not interested, and he makes it clear that he’s not stupid, they begin to forge a friendship.

They become close—real friends.

And then everything explodes.

Decades of imagination, 2 unfinished original works of fiction and 2 dozen completed fan fictions later, I finally decided to ask myself why I find such release with writing.  What does it mean to me, why my head won’t stop conjuring up scenarios and plots and the burning need to get it down on paper before it consumes me?  In order to do that you’ll need a bit of back story.  Well…..a LOT of back story.  Bear with me.  Here goes:

We’ll start with the first thing I mention – imagination.  Without this, an idea will be just that.  Mine has always been overactive and it all started back when I was ten-ish and my girlfriend across the street and I would re-enact scenes from The Partridge Family in my basement.  Yes, that’s right – The Partridge Family.  Don’t think I don’t hear you laughing.  I was madly in love with David Cassidy and, dammit, was going to marry him someday!  The biggest point of contention between my girlfriend and I was who was going to play Laurie.  She always did.  I didn’t mind because she was Keith’s sister and, well, I didn’t want to be his sister, ya know?

We then began shying away from re-enacting actual episodes to creating our own plot devices for the Puka Necklace’d one.  That began my need to fulfill what I had in my mind for the show and its characters as opposed to what the actual writers gave me.  It’s called fantasy.

Later on, when my love for David Cassidy began to wane and traded in my obsession with teen idols to for bonafide rock stars, my mind still put me in various incidents with these guys, but never moved to paper.  Oh, God no!  I didn’t want physical evidence of journeying to Rockford, IL, meeting Robin Zander of Cheap Trick, marrying him then putting a wedge between him and Rick Nielsen, ala Yoko Ono.    Or when the eighties rolled around and (screw Jon Bon Jovi) Richie Sambora had me taking too many weekend trips to visit my brother in New Jersey in the hopes that I would run into him.  Still, all these imaginary interludes existed only in my head long before I knew there was such a thing as ‘fan fiction’ and, even if I did, well, you know…..the evidence thing and all.  I didn’t have a computer back then so to physically write this stuff down would make me cringe.

The 90’s were slow as the grunge movement and Kurt Cobain’s striped sweaters didn’t have the effect the sprayed, spandexed, eye –linered hair metal dudes did.  I met my future hub in ’91, married in ’96 so I was actually decided to try something different by focusing on actual people and relationships.  I’m sure my imagination was still in play, but it wasn’t an era where anything enraptured me enough to obsess about.  So I began to read – actual books.  I developed a love for historical romances (English/Scottish medieval and some regency) and devoured them.  I spent lunchtime at the library taking them out because I bought way too many.  I wanted to write one so badly, but damn the research required to write a medieval would be daunting.  However, I had read enough of them to where I had the basics and could take creative licensing with time and place, as I found out from a small RWA critique group I once belonged to, a lot of authors create fictional places and countries.

I loved writing this type of story, especially painting the rich detail of medieval life from the morning routines, sumptuous clothing, jewel encrusted supper-ware as well as distinguishing the two classes of castle life – nobles and servants. I got as far as 16 chapters and worked with my RWA group to help hone my skills.  But something happened in 2000 which pulled my writing endeavors in a different direction.  The band, Def Leppard, released their tenth album.

Yes, you heard correct.   Do not adjust your dials or clean out your ears.  I am putting it out there that between 2000 & 2004 I wrote not one, not two, but, er….a dozen DL FF’s which I posted to a DL FF Yahoo Group (and also moved to an…..brace yourself….Angelfire website where they live for eternity.  If anyone wants the link, and keep their anonymity about wanting it – PM or email me.  I won’t tell anyone you asked for it – LOL!!) I don’t know what it was when my interest in the group suddenly skyrocketed to the point I had to write about a bunch of British rock stars whose heyday was in the 80’s, but when I came across the Yahoo Group who shared the same passion, I knew I found kindred spirits.

I began writing like a fiend – the plots, ideas and premises coming to me faster than I could write them.  Along the way, I honed my writing skills even more, while able to relax and create without having to adhere to the rigid constraints of publishing rules.  And having actual characters with established backgrounds already set up, it freed me to concentrate on plot, details and OCs.

But as does any site where people of various tastes contribute work for critique (cough::FF.Net::cough), things began to get squirrely, tempers got testy and ‘tudes got in a snit.  Having had enough, and my interest looking for another outlet, I quit writing DL FF and left the group mid-2004.  By then, my energies were channeled towards more serious personal issues – more specifically, my husband and I having to purchase his mother’s house in order to legally get his abusive sister out so we could move in and help take care of his mom.  I’ll not get into the gritty, dirty details, but between Oct 2004 and early 2008 we dealt with being ostracized from his family, his mom having a stroke and dying and trying to keep his business afloat while starting my own part time bookkeeping business.  By then, writing of any kind had become a distant memory.

Until……..

In the summer of 2009 a co-worker was gushing how she couldn’t wait until September when the 2^nd season of Sons of Anarchy started.   She began telling me about the first season and the premise and gushing about how cutie-patootie Jax is (yeah, we’ll get to THAT later!), blah, blah, blah.  I then began to see previews for the 2^nd season on tv (not having seen the 1^st) and it intrigued me.  I then went to On Demand and watched all the 2^nd season ‘shorts’ to get more of an insight on the characters.  I then watched the entire first season on CastTv for free (well, back when it WAS free) and HOLY SHIT I was effin’ hooked!  Not by the whiny little blonde prince Jax or freaky Tig or the Scottish actor I remembered from Braveheart, but Ron ‘effin’ Perlman.  The writing, the pacing, the character insights, the buildup was fabulous (emphasis on ‘was’).  I was all set for season 2 which, to those of you who knew how it began and ended, was ah-mazing.

By the end of Season 3 when they all got carted off to jail, Stahl got her brains splattered and Chibs gave Jimmy O a matching set of ‘smiles’, I became so enthralled that I began to seek out SOA fan fiction.  I cut my teeth on some great authors and found some clunkers along the way as well.  Soon, reading wasn’t enough.  The writing bug crawled back into my ear and began whispering AU plots into my brain.  But who and what would I write about?  What kind of female lead should I have?  Do I go by what the show has given me as the ‘norm’ for outlaw MC culture or do I need to delve deeper for a more authentic feel?  I researched first – on the net, documentaries, etc.  I realized that hooking a woman up with these guys isn’t going to be the same dance the two sexes go through in the ‘civilian’ world.  But the idea of weaving a civilian female into the world of criminal, outlaw bikers was all I could think about and doing it would require a lot of time, energy and thought in order to make it work.  Or, in the words of another author (laughing warrior) whose work I had the pleasure of reading, I needed to ‘sell that shit’ to my readers.  Translation:  make it realistic.

Okay, so which Son gets the starring role?  I didn’t want to write about anyone on the show who already had hoards of screen time because, blah.  None of the cast of guys ‘pulled’ me in a leading man direction.  Plus they each had a good amount of backstory given to where I’d have to adhere to it for it to be somewhat plausible.  But at the end of Season 3, the mysterious, deadly club assassin named ‘Happy’ was patched in before being hauled off to jail.  Because he wasn’t part of the opening cast, he had little screen time/dialogue (which I would realize 3 years later is for the best!) and the barest bones of history.  Plus, he was kinda hot – tall, bald, sleek, cut, inked, dark-eyed, dangers and effin’ sexy as shit!  Perfect – I found my guy.

Now…..how do I implement a story complete with dialogue and a realistic romance with a guy who speaks no more than 3 words in a sentence and inks his kills on his body?  Moreso, how the hell do I write a woman who’d realistically understand and accept that?  (“Oh, so you like, kill people for a living?  OMG, that’s sooooo cool and hot and sexy and stuff.  I can, like, be your old lady and ride on the back of your bike and lord over sluts who try to hit on you?  Yeah, I can overlook what you do in order to get away with acting like a bratty bitch.” – NOT!!)  Now I’ve met my challenge.  The stories I had already read had the female leads as ‘established’ within the club (ie: established ol’ ladies, daughters, nieces, cousins, etc. of club members) so the writer’s need to convince the reader that she’s okay with all the bad shit they do isn’t an issue because, well, you know, she’s Clay’s long lost daughter, Bobby’s niece, Tig’s cousin so they were born all down and dandy with the MC’s shenanigans.  Carry a gun?  Drink like a fish?  Kick some ass?  Slice someone’s throat?  Grab a shovel and dig a hole – no problemo, dude.  But….what if the woman was a plain, ol’ civilian completely ignorant to a world which had their own rules, procedures, codes and ways to exact vengeance?

I wanted to do this.  It was going to be tough, but I had to do this.  When I first came on the site, there were only 450 SOA FF stories (now there’s over 2,000).  So far I hadn’t read many stories which had this ‘everyday’ woman so I was hoping it would be something different.  So, what scenario would it be?

I decided to re-watch Season 1 & 2 as those, in my own humble opinion, are the show’s gold standard.  One of the first season’s episode had Jax being cut off while riding his bike.  And in a princely, little fit, he chases the guy down to a convenience store, with Chibs in tow, where a fight with the guy ensues before said guy winds up with an ax to the head.  Meanwhile, in the background, Chibs winds up shielding a young woman, dressed in a business suit, from the mess.  For some reason, that image stuck as it was pretty much the kind of encounter I was searching for.

I swapped out Chibs for Happy, replaced the convenience store with a liquor store and moved the entire story out of Charming and into Tacoma (where the mysterious Happy switched charters from) then developed a female with a believable reason to have contact with all three.  On 12/27/10, I posted the first chapter of The Night That Changed Everything.

Appropriately, that story changed everything for me as a writer.  I received some awesome feedback, made some great connections and corresponded with other writers.  I was to stop at that story, but in April of 2011, I posted the first chapter of another Happy story called ‘Gets Better With Time’.  When it sounded like the title of a lame Lifetime movie, I changed the name when the proper theme of the story began to emerge.  It then became ‘Redemption’ – a 52 chapter saga which bent my mind into knots.  TNTCE was my first love, but Redemption is what I’m most proud of because I challenged myself like never before by inter-twining canon/OC characters, tying several storylines together, generating club business which the show hadn’t yet explored and found a way to make all of that fit around a romance which began one night in a cemetery and find a believable to connect Happy’s to the woman who finds him there in an uncompromising position and see that reason all the way through to the end.

This story introduced characters who became so real to me that I couldn’t pair him with anyone other than Amanda.  When it ended, it spawned several more stories in the same AU, with the same characters, introducing some new ones along the way and allowed me to ‘toy’ with current canon storylines to fuse with my AU.

However, by the end of Season 5 when that strong bond of family and love began to unravel on the show, where everyone was lying or lying about lying to each other and Gemma was practically the de facto president in her son’s lap, my interest in writing this genre began to die off.  The site was flooded with a bunch of very young writers whom I just could not get into and wrote about everything I was dead set against.  Along the way, I bonded with a set of authors whose work spoke volumes and began to voraciously follow them.  Now all but one or two have left and some have gone onto published works (yeah!)

I decided to leave writing altogether and find my refuge in my domestic side because everytime I watch Julie & Julia I get inspired to make beef bourguignon and homemade chocolate cream pie.  I set up a blog dubbed ‘The Weekend Wife’ as that’s pretty much what I am as a job and a business cause me to neglect my home during the week. I figured I could channel my urge to write there, but it didn’t satisfy the need to write about a woman finding herself in the sudden presence of a hot-ass biker.  And I like my men with an imposing presence, close-cut facial hair and a body that doesn’t look like a molded, waxed Abercrombie model.  Rough, scratched, scarred, imperfect.  And big – especially their hands.  A man’s hands say a lot about him – whether they’re revving an accelerator, punching some poor schmuck, tenderly stroking skin or gently holding a newborn baby.

Because I still continue to read, inspiration never leaves, which makes that imagination of mine bigger than ever.  And because I spent so much time writing biker genre, I began an original this past September which is twelve chapters in and plan to post a teaser soon on the FCP page.

As daunting a task it is, I simply love creating an other world, a town, a club, a person and the drama which will eventually bind all of them together from scratch.  To have something go from your head to your fingers to paper or monitor and have it wind up a full-fledged story complete with characters who have become real in your own mind is like taking a min-vacation from reality.  It became my fortress of solitude.  My sanctuary inside of myself.

It became, and still is, my private escape.

Elena (aka Happy’s Hitwoman)