The jacket promises a close-up shot of the life of a biker babe, replete with bloody knuckles, drugs, bar brawls, sexual depravity, and murder. Joolz Denby delivers on all of the aforementioned, sans media glam. This is a good thing: what you get is the voice of an honest woman with a tattered past. Using a close first person, memoir-style, Denby describes the rise and fall of a British biker chick, from her early start as a schoolgirl suffering the lavender spray, floral patterns, and emotional manipulation of her waspish mother and sister, through the self-absorption of hippiedom, to the sense of family, albeit crudely, gained through hanging out with biker clubs in late 60's England. Billie Morgan's toughness comes from her straight-forward nature and quick tongue, not to mention the black sheep persona her long-gone father bestowed upon her. She suspects she's a survivor, but she hasn't quite had a chance to prove it. As soon as she dons the leathers, though, Billie gets noticed. The gang leadership likes her savvy ways, but in the testosterone-fueled biker lifestyle, babes are accessories. Billie is urged to stand by her man so he can be fully initiated into the gang. It's apparent to the club membership that Billie's man, though a good enough soldier, doesn't have what it takes to truly weather the storms. So Billie steps up, fueled by love: love for her honey, love for the gang, love for the black sheep inside, as well as a little bit of affection for an occasional snort of this or that snuck off a hand mirror. That's where the trouble starts. There's a lot of good soldiers who hang around the edges of the gang, wanting an in, desperate for tail or drugs or a place to belong and bum tools, smokes, and pints. But what happens when the most brutal chauvinistic speedfreak poser runs up against self-sufficient lady Morgan? Well...let's just say some farmer's going to plow up a very unpleasant-smelling turnip someday...

So there's a taste of the backstory. The real pull of this sad tale, though, comes from Billie's consideration of past mistakes in relation to her current troubles. She's a business owner and a worried godmother, a guardian angel for an old friend with a similarly tattered past as well as a severe heroin addiction: a bit of the old life still clinging to the boot soles. She lives alone. She works with a bubbly friend who regularly gets manicures. And then an upstart journalist comes knocking, asking for an interview regarding a missing acquaintance of Billie's, someone from way back when Billie's desire for speed was enough to slog her and her honey through the countryside to seek out a supplier, a supplier who was never seen again.

Billie, usually cool as a cucumber, is shaken.

Joolz Denby's gift for characterization shows in this novel about a woman digging through the skeletons in the closet. The effects of pop culture phenomena emerge in the language of the people: Billie's biker pals, her hip-hopified godson, her drug-fueled friend Jasmine, and her sassy business partner Lexie. The voices and emotions of lives pushed too close to the edge are what this story is about. Denby uses Billie Morgan to explore the dark side of courage, the truth of human weakness, selfishness, and suffering, and out of that, maybe shows us a little something about letting go of the past, letting go before it drags us deep down into the grave.