Ergebnis von "Anne Malcom" in Alle Kategorien

My life was never black and white. Heck, it wasn't even black, white and gray. Lines were not drawn between good and evil, and if they were, I would have jumped those suckers for fun. But now it was simpler. It wasn't black and white. Or gray. It was only one thing. Blood. A crimson-tinted world. That was all I needed. All I wanted. Him.

I don't know what it's like to feel. To hurt. The ability was stolen from me in my youth. I consider that theft a gift. Feelings got in the way when you were building an empire. Amassing power. I had the empire. I had the power. One moment in an alley changed everything. What took more than a decade to amass was snatched away in a second. He killed for me. But he didn't save me.

Magnolia Grace is a horror writer, despite what the name might suggest. One of the best in the business, if you ask around. Pressure comes with that title. Expectation for the next nightmare. The next bestseller. Sickness. That's what it is. She can't be healthy. Because that means she won't write. And she hasn't been writing.

There's a phrase: Still waters run deep. But there's more to it than that. Because "still" doesn’t denote peace. Nor calm. Nor happiness. It’s an illusion. It's chaos. The only way to handle chaos is to become it. That’s what Lucy did. She created stillness out of the chaos tumbling inside her and called the most chaotic motorcycle club in the United States her family. The Sons of Templar gave her chaos, friendship, family, danger, and death. But she wouldn't want it any other way. Then he came.

Calliope Derrick is in trouble. Not that she'll admit it. She'd sooner go to her grave than ask for help—especially from a man. Wall Street's wolf in heels, Calliope built an empire, shattered egos, and earned a reputation as the woman who made grown men cry in their private jets. But after a betrayal that threatens everything she's worked for, she trades skyscrapers for lighthouses and flees to Jupiter, Maine. She tells her family it's just a break. A vacation. A reset. She's lying. She's here to plot revenge. Not to fall in love.

Should I tell you a story? Not a fairytale, mind you. There's not a princess to be seen. Nor a prince. Not even a hero. This is about the stripper and the outlaw. Our story begins with the Sons of Templar MC, with a man even the outlaws fear. He was trouble. More than trouble. A scoundrel. A sinner. A villain. To everyone but me. Our story begins with blood, violence, and pain. I have a feeling it will end that way too. But it's too late for escape. I've fallen for the scoundrel. The sinner. The outlaw.

The Sons of Templar MC. I'm sure you've heard of them. They're infamous. Murderers. Criminals. Outlaws. But to me, they're family. My husband wore the cut for well over a decade. For almost as long as he wore a wedding ring. Our marriage survived wars. Deaths. Blood. The cuts were deep. And they never healed quite right. But we survived. Until we didn't. He promised me forever. And he gave it to me. His version of it, at least. Mine was longer, though. Much longer.