Revved - Samantha Towle




The Mighty Storm

Wethering the Storm

Taming the Storm


The Bringer


First Bitten

Original Sin

2015 by Samantha Towle

All rights reserved.

Cover Designer: Najla Qamber Designs

Editor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, unforeseenediting

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Visit my website at samanthatowle

For Trishy and Sali.

My adoration for you both is immeasurable.


Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine



About the Author

I LOOK UP AT MY MUM. She looks worried, and she’s holding my hand tight. She always does this when Dad’s racing, but I don’t mind. I know she gets nervous, so I let her squish the life out of my hand because I know holding it makes her feel better.

I don’t know why she gets nervous though. I don’t get nervous, ever, simply because my dad is the best driver in the world. He’s the champion, and he’s about to be the champion again.

I wriggle my fingers a little as they start to feel funny.

“Sorry, darling.” Mum smiles down at me. It’s a tight, worried smile.

I wish she wouldn’t worry so much.

I smile up at her, trying to make her feel better.

She’s really beautiful, my mum, and very tall. She used to be a model, but she gave it up when she had me.

I’m going to be tall like her. I’m already tall for my age. I hate it. I’m ten and taller than most of the boys in my class. I’m all limbs and gangly. Ugh. I wish I were small and petite, like the other girls in my class.

Everyone says that I look just like my mum though, which is a nice thing because she’s the most beautiful person in the world.

My dad says I look like her, too, and that he’s in for a nightmare when I grow up. Apparently, he’s going to keep a cricket bat by the front door to beat away any boyfriends I might have.

He’s crazy. Like I’ll ever have a boyfriend. I won’t have time for boys when I’m older.

I want to race like Dad does or maybe even be a mechanic like Uncle John. He’s not my real uncle, but I always call him that. He’s my dad’s best friend and my godfather.

I love when Uncle John lets me work on the cars with him, and I get all covered in oil and dirt. Mum gets mad though when I get it on my clothes, but I don’t care.

Mum doesn’t say it, but I know she doesn’t want me to work on cars, and she definitely won’t want me to race. I think she’d be happy if I did what she used to—be a model.

But I’m not into pretty things like her. I’m like my dad. I love cars.

And Dad says I can do anything I want as long as I put my mind to it and work hard in school.

“And he’s set to do it! Coming in on the final lap!”

At the sound of the announcer’s