Dolls!
I have so much to tell you! I'm super excited to report that I'm BACK TO WRITING!
About six weeks ago, I started writing in earnest, making time on a Sunday afternoon to go down to the local pub and write, using the ambient noise to help me focus. I began working on The Chief - book #3 in the Mac Tíre Mafia - and I fell in love with my characters and their world all over again.
Every Sunday, I would add another 2000-2500 words to the story, but I realised just how long it would take me to complete an 80,000 word book at this rate (about a year by my count, give or take weeks where I couldn't write for whatever reason.)
I have my editor booked in for mid-April next year, so I needed to either write faster and more when I had the chance, or sacrifice some time in the morning. So, I started getting up at 5am again (I did it when I was writing the Little Bird and Little Secrets) and sat down to write. After I get caffeinated, I can get a solid hour of peace and quiet and write.
I'm averaging around 1,200 words in that time, about 5,000-7,000 words a week (including the Sunday writing sesh). It might not seem like a lot, but when you're working full-time and being a mum and wife on top of it, it's a little slice of time and effort that I can call all my own.
Right now, I'm sitting just a hair short of 38,000 words - roughly halfway through - and the story is evolving each time I write. Just today, the 'villain' of the story revealed himself to me, and he wasn't even supposed to be a part of this series.
If you want to keep track of my word count, I'm adding it to my Instagram notes every weekday morning and on Sunday evening.
All right, so The Chief is Keir and Molly's story. There's a glimpse of them at the end of The Reaper (an epilogue I didn't even know was going to be written) where they've hooked up in the back of the Rover, giving Molly the opportunity to leave a bullet with Finnan's name on it. Their story is a direct continuation from this point, and if you think it's going to be a straightforward plot line, think again!
I'm going to be posting a chapter below this post, but I wanted to also show you some character images that I've created using AI. Before you jump on the AI boycott wagon, know that I totally get that the use of AI is a big thing at the moment in the authoring world, but I do think it has a place in marketing.
Let me be honest and transparent: I would never use AI to write my books or blurbs, or use them on my covers. BUT when it comes to marketing, advertising, IG reels and TT, I believe AI fills a gap that stock image sites simply cannot fill.
Keir isn't quite right yet - maybe too young - but I like my characters all dark and broody and that's simply not what he looks like. On the inside, however, he has some darkness and some secrets. Molly looks pretty much how I picture her.
If you're keen to see how I picture these characters, keep scrolling down after reading the chapter. If you're not interested in anything AI generated, then you can click out of the post. The choice is, and always will be, yours.
Please note this chapter is unedited and will more than likely change in the future.
Chapter One
The bullet with my boss’s name etched onto the side rolled around in the center console cup holder, each turn I took making the rattle louder and louder. I’d known it was only a matter of time before Finnan pissed off the wrong people. I just hadn’t realized it would be so damn soon.
Pressing down on the accelerator, I sent the Rover hurting down the road, horn blaring at any driver that was in danger of getting run over. As I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends, I caught of whiff of Molly’s cunt on my fingers, and my spent dick gave a pathetic little twitch. Glaring down at it, I tapped the steering wheel restlessly. I wanted nothing more than to have another cigarette, but I’d rolled and smoked my last one after chasing Jynx. I didn’t know where she’d gone, but I knew she had to be close. I also hoped that she heeded my warning.
You’d better keep running unless you want me to find you. And I swear… I will find you.
I pulled into the compound on a squeal of tires that were soon muffled out by the gravel drive. Tall stone walls soared up alongside the car until I reached the graveled turning circle where several of the clan’s Rovers were parked. Putting the SUV into park, I killed the engine, grabbed the bullet and got out.
Before I knew what was happening, I was slammed against the side of the car. My anger broke through the tether I chained it to—an unthinking, primal reaction to the violence being showed against me. With my teeth bared, I fought back against the weight pressing against me, my vision shifting from red to black as the rage took over.
“Where the fuck is it?” a dark voice said. “Keir, where the fuck is it?”
“Finnan, let him go,” said another voice. This one was familiar though. Caolan. “Killing him won’t get him to give you the bullet any faster.”
“No, but when he’s dead, it will roll from his cold, stiff fingers.”
“But you won’t know anything else,” Caolan replied, exasperation lingering in his tone. “You’re being a fecking arsehole. Let him go.”
The pressure eased a bit as Finnan snapped back, “Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?”
I used the distraction to get out of the hold, shoving Finnan away from me violently. The clan boss stumbled back a step before straightening, his eyes narrowed slits on my face.
“Where the fuck is it?” he snarled at me.
Showing him the bullet, I tossed it at him before brushing past him and into the house. House was a stretch as far as the description went. It was a motherfucking compound—our stronghold against any and all threats against the clan. These stone walls had seen some shit in its time, and every bullet hole and chip on the stone was testament to that. Inside, I climbed the oak staircase that led up to the first floor. Once I was inside my bedroom, I stared at the paintings of the ocean that hung on the walls. I stared at that swirling white water until the rage that bubbled and churned inside me began to dissipate.
When I felt like I could, I crossed the rug and sank into one of the armchairs placed around the bookshelf. I’d learned that I needed a calm place to come to if my anger was starting to control me. Ever since finding that bullet, I felt as if I was spinning out of control. Reaching into my pocket, I fished out my rolling papers and pouch of tobacco. The process of rolling a cigarette gave my hands something to do—my mind something else to focus on. And I fucking needed that right now.
Lighting the end of the cigarette, the scent of Turkish tobacco filled the room, and I let it out on a steady stream of smoke. Swapping my cigarette to the other hand, I brought my fingers up to my nose and inhaled. The scent of Molly’s pussy was almost gone—just a ghost of her left behind. It was too bad she could’ve have just been a fuck to get my mind off Fallon. Now she was on mine and the Clan’s radar, and that could only end in disaster for her.
She just didn’t know it yet.
There was a knock on my door, and Caolan stuck his head inside. “Finnan has called a meeting.”
Dragging in one final, long inhale from my cigarette, I threw it into the cold hearth and stood.
“What the fuck happened?” Caolan asked.
“I’ll tell you in the meeting,” I replied, doing my best to shake off the feeling of dread sitting heavily on my shoulders. Together, we walked down the long hall to Finnan’s office. I took a seat in front of his desk, keeping my hands busy by rolling another cigarette.
“You aren’t smoking that shit in here,” Finnan said in his no-nonsense tone, sliding into his own chair, his gaze flickering to
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied, flashing him my good old boy smile. It was the one I used ninety-nine percent of the time. The mask that hid the real me.
“Where the fuck is everyone else?” my boss muttered, fingers tapping out an agitated rhythm on the desktop.
“Caolan was behind me. I don’t know about everyone else.” I finished rolling the cancer stick and placed it onto the desk in front of me. Finnan eyed it like it was an unpinned grenade. He’d never approved of me smoking. His daideo had died of lung cancer, and ever since then, he hated seeing and smelling cigarette smoke. I’d quit at the same time as Finnan had, but Orin bringing Fallon into the clan had fucked with my head a little too much.
There were voices in the hallway outside the office, Quillen, Shay and Caolan filing through the door and propped themselves against the walls. Orin was in the room next, followed closely by Grayson. The relationship between Finnan and his former Warlord was still tense, and everyone felt it like an electric wire snaking across the floor.
I wondered briefly where Fallon was. Despite being the clan’s medic, she wasn’t privy to these meetings. Then I remembered that I had no right to wonder about her. She wasn’t my woman—no matter how much I wanted her to be.
“Right, now that we’re all here, I can get this motherfucking meeting started.” He slammed the bullet onto the desk and glared at me. “Tell me everything that went down.”
Blowing out a breath, I told them about fucking Molly then after she left, I noticed the bullet in the cup holder.
“How was the pussy?” Quillen asked with a shit-eating grin.
“Shut the fuck up,” Finnan snapped before I could tell the bastard the same thing. “This shit is serious. This is a direct threat. A declaration of war against me and the clan. We need to go on the offensive and find out who the hell delivered it.”
“We know who delivered it,” Quillen said. “Keir’s piece of ass did. Should we be concerned that you’re sleeping with the enemy, Chief?”
“Fuck you,” I muttered, my fingers itching to reach for the cigarette. Finnan eyed me, warning me wordlessly not to reach for it and disrespect his office like that.
“The most logical enemy is the fucking Bèar clan. Mannix is still a little irritated that Orin’s woman killed one of his clan members.”
“Those fuckers deserved that and more,” Orin growled in response.
“The only way we’ll know for sure is when they come for us,” Finnan said. “And I have no interest in sitting here holding my dick until then.”
“What are you thinking?” I asked, glad for the distraction.
“We’re still without a Warlord. We need to fill that position as soon as we can.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Caolan straighten. He was the most logical choice. His loyalty to the clan was unmatched. “Who?” he asked.
“Don’t know yet,” Finnan replied, his gaze darting away for a moment.
I sat a little straighter in my seat. I knew that tell. I’d been running around with Finnan and Torin since I was twelve. I knew when that fucker was lying. That was something I had to bring up at another time, though. The real issue was the one sitting innocuously on his desk.
Finnan said, “Caolan, make sure we’re ready for another attack on the compound. I want to have a rifle or pistol within arm’s reach anywhere inside these walls. Am I understood?”
“Understood,” the Master replied.
“Good. Now, get the fuck out of here. Make sure everything is buttoned up tight. That includes Velvet. I don’t want any of our girls as collateral damage. Their pussies are worth too much to the clan.”
Everyone started to shuffle out of the room, discussions about the kind of firepower they’re going to set up and where.
I rose from my seat when Finnan said, “Keir, sit your arse down.”
Leaning back in his chair, Finnan finally let his hardarse exterior slip a little. I could see the tightness around his eyes, how tired he was. He ran a hand through his hair, blowing out an exhausted breath.
“Everything okay?”
“Shit’s never okay,” he replied, reaching into his office drawer and bringing out a bottle of whiskey. He placed two crystal tumblers beside them and unscrewed the cap. “It’s the anniversary of my Da’s death soon.”
I did the mental math. “In another four months, right?”
Finnan knocked back both glasses of whiskey, refilling them before nudging one in my direction. “Right.”
“Why are you thinking about that, Finnan? Has it got something to do with finding a new Warlord?”
He leveled me with a hard stare.
Sliding the glass closer, I took a sip. “Whatever, you tight-lipped bastard,” I muttered.
“The woman who left this bullet,” he started, drawing my attention—and my dick’s, let’s be honest.
“What about her?”
“You know where to find her?”
“I don’t think she’d be stupid enough to hang around after what she’s done.”
“You know how to find people, though, Keir. You’ve always been fucking too smart for your own good.”
That was true. There wasn’t a digital footprint I couldn’t hunt down. I had Molly’s number in my phone. Granted it could have been a burner phone, but she was a fucking nursing student. She was tethered to Galway until she finished her studies. I could fucking find her.
“I’ll track her down.”
Finnan nodded. “And when you find the little cunt who threatened me, you’ll bring her here. We need to know what she knows.”
“And if I fail to find her?”
“You won’t.” His tone was menacing, the look in his eyes not normally levelled at me. Finnan was a violent man—a beast barely contained by societies expectations for civility. He simply didn’t give a fuck about any of that. Nobody else knew that about him, though. Like me, he wore a mask, making sure nobody really knew the real Finnan Quinn.
Rapping my knuckles against the desk, I rose and left the room, determined to find Jynx and demand she answered my questions.
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 Keir
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 Molly
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