Today, I thought it might be fun to get to know a character from the Kings of Chaos world. After the release of Crossroads, a close friend suggested including him into my next book. I don’t think he knew exactly what he was asking for at the time, but I sure worked him into the story! And with that, let’s get to know Big H just a little bit better.
First, an excerpt from Big H’s introduction in Crossfire:
It doesn’t take long before we pull into the small parking area for Big H’s salvage yard. Jaws trails close behind on his Vulcan, the exhaust note announcing our presence before we ever come to a complete stop. As I’m reaching for the door handle, Scott makes one more comment. “Go with whatever happens while we’re here.” I’m not sure what that means, but as long as he does then I’m fine with it.
Big H strolls out to our group. He’s wearing his typical carpenter pants and work shirt that’s unbuttoned a little too far with his chest hair hanging out. The shirt has the standard name patch on the left side of the chest. Not his real name of course, but it rather simply says “Big H.” Scott is inspecting every inch of the motorcycle from the ground up. “What do you think, Will?” he asks, looking for an expert opinion since he’s never owned a bike of his own before. I walk around the bike, nodding casually. I smell a faint odor of gasoline, and see a stained trail down the side of the engine casing beneath the gas tank. The gravel is clean under the frame though, which is a good sign and tells me it’s not a big leak and there’s no sign of oil dripping from anywhere.
“Four grand,” Big H blurts out without anybody asking, flashing his best used car salesman smile. Too bad for him, his Indian corn teeth ruin any positive effect he’s going for.
“Four grand my ass,” is my blunt response. “It’s leaking gasoline and it’s a Shadow, not a Harley. You know you ain’t getting four grand for an import bike this old.”
“Exactly. It’s a Shadow and not a Harley, which means it’s reliable. The price is four grand.”
Pointing out the shortcomings of Harley Davidsons isn’t typically the popular approach, but he isn’t necessarily wrong. While a Harley can be rebuilt and brought back to life from nearly any condition, they are a finicky animal. “Big H, you know you ain’t gonna get four thousand dollars for this bike. Two grand, and we’ll get it out of your way.”
I can see him bristle physically at my counter offer. “Fire it up,” he says, tossing the key at me, but not necessarily to me.
“So help me, if I go up in flames because of this piece of shit I’m never coming back here,” I declare as I approach the machine. Scott drifts around to the far side of the bike, seemingly to get a good angle in case the bike explodes and he needs to bail. I slide in the key, open up the choke, reach across and hit the electric ignition, then jump back just in case. The V-twin engine rumbles to life with a great sound emanating from the exhaust. There’s a lope, and you can hear the programmed timing from the Honda factory to give it an intentional miss in the firing cycle. That was done to try to replicate the signature Harley exhaust sound. Harley wasn’t too keen on that, so they sued the shit out of Honda over it. Needless to say, Honda had a redesigned engine the very next year. I can’t really say that I care much about all that though. As Big H mentioned, Hondas are reliable and this bike sounds great.
“The gaskets were a little dried out when I first got the bike, so when I put gas in it, some of it ran out here and there. It seems the gaskets have come back around after soaking up some of the fluid.”
“Well you just said it, Big H. There’s work to be done on this thing. I’ll give you twenty-five hundred, but that’s it.”
Big H apparently takes offense at my counter offer. Without any warning, he springs to his left and grabs Jaws’ right shoulder with his oversized mitt. He pushes Jaws back as he sweeps his leg forward and Jaws immediately hits the gravel. Jaws rolls to his stomach in order to push himself back up from the ground. I start to make a move, but that’s when I make eye contact with Scott and he winks at me. Our brother is getting his ass kicked and Scott effing winks at me! Then I remember what he said when he got out of the truck – just go with it.
“You stingy bastards stop in here and low ball me right to my face!” Big H yells while clawing at Jaws’ back. “Gimme that vest, boy! I’m gettin’ me a souvenir today so everybody that stops by here knows right up front not to screw around with me!” He gets a grip of the vest around the shoulders and starts to yank and rip at it to slide it down off Jaws’ arms. Jaws regains his balance and locks his hands together in front of his stomach to keep the vest from being taken off. He twists abruptly, breaking Big H’s grip, and pulling him slightly off balance. Jaws shoves Big H to gain some space, then charges the big junker and tackles him to the ground. Jaws sits up on Big H’s torso in a full mount position, ready to rain down some blows when Scott steps in and breaks up the melee.
“What the hell, man?” Jaws asks as Scott is pulling him off Big H. Big H makes his way back to his feet, while Scott calms down Jaws.
“Calm down, you passed. Don’t worry,” Scott tells him. Jaws lets his guard down, but casts a quizzical look toward Scott.
“It’s called a mudcheck, ya dumbass,” Big H informs Jaws. “So people can see how well you hold yer shit together.”
“I know what Will is all about. He’s been around the club and the military his whole life. I have no question about his dedication. I just wanted to see how you would react when push came to shove.”
I could see Jaws shake his head at the notion of his loyalty being tested. “That’s how it goes Jaws. You kinda had the fast track, so I think this was pretty much necessary,” I state, agreeing with my Prez.
“Alright, twenty-five hundred,” Big H concedes. “Cash,” he clarifies.
Do you remember where the idea for Big H came from? (Cuz I sure do!)
I honestly do not. I’ve told you before that I tend to talk a lot of shit and can’t be held responsible to remember all of it. (Editor’s note: the idea was born from a conversation immediately following the release of Crossroads. We were talking about how it unexpectedly led into a sequel, and you planted the seed for a tow-truck driving hillbilly named Big H. I liked it, so I did it!)
Did the character meet your expectations or did you have something else in mind?
I honestly thought he’d be a little more redneckish. I embrace that side of me that makes appearances at the oddest and sometimes worst times.
Obviously, Big H isn’t a direct representation of you as a person. Were you excited to be included as a character in the story, or insulted by my use of creative license and how the character was portrayed?
I can see parts of me in Big H. Some of his clothing choices and reactions to things are pretty close to how I would probably react. I don’t ride a motorcycle, but I sure would love to take a tow truck out for a spin sometime.
You’ve read an early version of Crossover. Does Big H’s involvement in book 3 change your opinion at all?
Big H needs his own series. Will this, Will that. The world is starving for more Big H. (Editor’s note: sorry world, you’ll have to keep starving. A Big H series is not in the works.)
What are the chances of you cosplaying as Big H at future signing events??
I think I’ll leave this as a big surprise. I believe that uncertainty of “Will this jackass really show up and act a fool?” adds to the mystery.
Anything else you’d like to add?
I’m honored to say that I influenced and helped inspire a character from a book. At least it wasn’t a murder/mystery and I was either the victim or the killer.
Be on the lookout for more Big H exploits in the upcoming third release in the Kings of Chaos Motorcycle Club Series, Crossover (coming soon)!
Thank you, that is all.