Tales of the fiercely independent motorcycle club
By: A.T.Cross
Aaron is doing his best to convince himself that he wasn’t always a loser. Recently dumped by his girlfriend he finds himself trapped in a rut, working the line at a local restaurant, failing at rebound attempts, and blowing most of his pay down at the Saloon. At least he still has his motorcycle, Rosinante, a rusted out crotch rocket held together by duct tape, zipties, and raw faith. Riding out of town on a nag, accompanied only by his shadow, Rustrocket is the story of one man’s delusional quest for wild love in the working class, a vision of what happens when booze-fueled romanticism meets the concrete..
I originally started this damn thing as a blog, back before the advent of moveable type. I plugged away at it for some time, keeping a handful of people apprised of my progress with the motorcycle repairs. Sometime along the way my laptop died and I abandoned the blog. By the time I got back to it, it was entirely overrun with spam commentary, so I burned the website to the ground. I had no idea that somewhere out there I had some random reader wondering if I died along the way. When he found me on Facebook some years later, I was forced to compile the random posts into some semblance of a novel, if only to soothe his troubled heart. It might be the first one I published, but it is far and away my favorite.
Andrew Tomacelli 