A literary mystery about cooking and gourmands by one of Brazil's most popular authors.

Not since Hunter Thompson's seminal Hells Angels: A Strange & Terrible Saga of the Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs in 1967 has there been such a thorough account of the Angels. This book documents the gang's bumpy ride from its origins as a Stateside club for WWII fighter pilots to its freewheeling terror tactics of the early sixties, to its absurd flirtation with the hippie scene, to its current status as one of the most powerful underground organisations in North America, rivalling even the Mafia.

The Outlaws Motorcycle Club's story is told here for the first time, by criminal underworld author and former infiltrator Alex Caine. They are the original biker gang, and their sixty years of war with the Hells Angels is the stuff of legend. Right down to their signature logo (a skull known as "Charlie"), the McCook Outlaws Motorcycle Club, formed in 1935, defined the look and sensibility of the twentieth-century biker. In the 1950s, a rising gang of toughs in California threatened to steal their thunder. But, recognizing an opportunity for expansion, the Outlaws reached out. The nascent Hells Angels sent them home to Chicago, beaten, humiliated and forever bent on the Angels' destruction. Sixty years and thousands of maimed and murdered later, the Hells Angels are a dominant criminal empire. The Outlaws, loosely allied with the number-two club in the biker universe, the Bandidos, sit contentedly as the number-three power, though they rule in places like the UK, the Great Lakes, Florida and the US Midwest. Less concerned with making money than the Angels, they continue to define the vicious biker character like few of their peers. Working undercover, Alex Caine witnessed the buffering of the big clubs' US turfs in a Bandidos-mediated truce between the Outlaws and Angels in the 1980s. But like every deal between bikers, that one soured, and a storm of unimaginable violence and scope is brewing. The alliance is expanding and determined to unseat the Angels for once and for all.

Hey, Trackers. I’m River—“part hound dog and a whole lot Cherokee,” as my frenemy Kat says. I’ve been showing Kat how to track animals all summer long even though we argue about everything under the sun. When we find a buried map in a cave while waiting for a storm to pass, it thrusts us into the adventure of our lives. But hunting for possible treasure puts our already fragile friendship to the test. Can you imagine if we did find loot, like a chest of gold or something way cool like that? Kat could take in rescue horses at her parents’ farm, and I could buy this awesome colt Flash I love so much! While searching for untold riches, we also have to deal with bullies, competing clubs, farm duties, frisky horses, and ferocious beasts that can claw your heart out. Will this treacherous journey turn us into good friends or make us mortal enemies forever? Join us in our heart-pounding quest while we try to not break our bones ... or our spirits.

You can read more about the author, DON R.HARPER, in the Preface and early autobiographical chapters. He's been married to Dorothy Sanders Harper, a native of Marshall, Texas for over 60 years as of this writing (that's them in the green Oldsmobile convertible by the The Mighty Nice Bank in the oil painting Harper did about "Marshall re-visited." His family, business associates, friends and Marshall Celebrities such as Y. A. Title, football great, Bill Moyers and George Foreman, Wendy Reeves, George Smith and others are shown in the "Prize-Winning" oil painting.) Harper is a former lay speaker for the Methodist church. He had many careers including newspaper advertising, bank marketing vice-president, Mainstreet Director, racquet club owner-operator and public relations director of the Development office for East Texas Baptist University where he retired in 1996. If you want to be a Prayer Warrior for the July 4th JesusXplosion, dial JesusXplosion.com for weekly instructions. (Note: If you are still looking for Jesus in the top oil painting, He's in the right hand upper corner.)

From the first federal agent to infiltrate the inner circle of the outlaw Hells Angels Motorcycle Club comes the inside story of the 21-month operation that almost cost him his family, his sanity, and his life. Getting shot in the chest as a rookie agent, bartering for machine guns, throttling down the highway at 100 mph, and responding to a full-scale, bloody riot between the Hells Angels and their rivals, the Mongols—these are just a few of the high-adrenaline experiences Dobyns recounts in this action-packed, hard-to-imagine-but-true story. Dobyns leaves no stone of his harrowing journey unturned. At runs and clubhouses, between rides and riots, Dobyns befriends bad-ass bikers, meth-fueled “old ladies,” gun fetishists, psycho-killer ex-cons, and even some of the “Filthy Few”--the elite of the Hells Angels who’ve committed extreme violence on behalf of their club. Eventually, at parties staged behind heavily armed security, he meets legendary club members such as Chuck Zito, Johnny Angel, and the godfather of all bikers, Ralph “Sonny” Barger. To blend in with them, he gets full-arm ink; to win their respect, he vows to prove himself a stone-cold killer. Hardest of all is leading a double life, which has him torn between his devotion to his wife and children, and his pledge to become the first federal agent ever to be “fully patched” into the Angels’ near-impregnable ranks. His act is so convincing that he comes within a hairsbreadth of losing himself. Eventually, he realizes that just as he’s been infiltrating the Hells Angels, they’ ve been infiltrating him. And just as they’re not all bad, he’s not all good. Reminiscent of Donnie Brasco’s uncovering of the true Mafia, this is an eye-opening portrait of the world of bikers--the most in-depth since Hunter Thompson’s seminal work—one that fully describes the seductive lure criminal camaraderie has for men who would otherwise be powerless outsiders. Here is all the nihilism, hate, and intimidation, but also the freedom—and, yes, brotherhood—of the only truly American form of organized crime.