Is The Tailspin Book Available To Read Online For Free?

Travis "Punch" Mitchell is not just any wolf shifter. He should absolutely be illegal, everything about him is sculpted by the goddess herself. He is the lead enforcer of the Flying Death, one of the most deadly and notorious packs there is. Alpha Axel "Dozer" Dennison adopted him and knew immediately that Punch was no ordinary pup. It takes a killer to know a killer. As fate would have it, Alpha Dozer has a beautiful daughter nobody dares to go near. Punch however, is already closer than anyone else to the female. They are in a constant tit for tat with each other, neither ever winning and always walking away frustrated with the other. He's a lot of bark, but no bite when it comes to her. Hazel Dennison is a girl who knows what she wants but is extremely immature with how she gets it. Punch is not only her ultimate nemesis, he is her crush. Her dream mate who wants nothing to do with her. Little does she know he's the female he loves to hate. When she takes matters into her own hands and dates another Alpha's son, Punch can't just sit back. Unfortunately for him, pack business interferes in his love life and everything goes upside down. Excerpt: I find myself leaning against the wall by his room, grateful my parents’ room is downstairs. "Go to bed,” I hear, barely above a whisper. "No,” I say, defiantly, turning to face his door. Either he sensed my heartbeat out here or he smelled me. Maybe both. I can’t wait to have my wolf. This sucks. He needs to know I’m not backing down. I’m not a dumb pup, I more than know what I want. Him. However I can get him.

Six months have passed since Harley left PTV, Ron and her love, Alexander, now she's just trying to move on, but putting the traumatic event that took place in California behind her, is easier said than done. She hasn't had any contact with anyone in the SS since she left, knowing it would have just made 'Moving On' harder, but one evening, she receives a letter… from Jemma, begging her to return to PTV and help her and the girls get their outlaws out of Prison. Will Harley help them out and prove she IS a member of the family after all or is the outlaw biker lifestyle just not for her? 

The night before the company went public, my wife told me she had a surprise for me and reminded me to dress up for the occasion. I thought she was planning to reveal our secret relationship, and I was so excited that I couldn’t sleep all night. However, the next day, in front of everyone, she announced that I was a creepy obsessive admirer. On top of that, she revoked my promotion and gave my position to her first love who had just returned to the country. Everyone was waiting to see me humiliated. I froze for a moment but quickly composed myself, walking up to her first love with a faint smile. Then, I took off the badge on my chest and placed it on him. “As the new director, you should celebrate, shouldn't you? How about a wedding? I’ll officiate for you two.” Glaring at me coldly, my wife told me to get lost and stop embarrassing myself. What they didn’t know was that I was the key connection holding the entire company together. If I left, none of the investors would back them anymore.

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Brandon Smith has flown for eight years. I've been with him since the time he was an assistant pilot, all the way until he successfully rose to the ranks as the head pilot. In the year Brandon's busiest with his career, I resign from my job and begin cooking according to his aviation schedule. Just once, I bring up the question, "Can you please show me the sight of being thousands of feet in the air in the near future? Just once, please!" Brandon continues eating from his plate. "The plane is a workplace, not an amusement park for you." I reply, "Okay." Since then, I never bring up that matter in front of him. That is, until I find myself suffering from insomnia one night. That's when I accidentally come across an encrypted photo album tucked away in Brandon's phone. There are over 40 photos in the album, all from his perspective as a pilot. There are seas of clouds, sunsets, double rainbows after a downpour, as well as the Milky Way in the night sky when the plane is over thousands of feet in the sky. Every photo has been sent to the same person with a bear's emoji as their name. The latest photo is a photo of the beautiful evening colors from three days ago. Half of the sun can be seen in the clouds. The caption that comes with the photo says, "Today's sky is still beautiful as ever. When you come over next time, you can take the observation seat on the right. It gives you the best angle of the sky." The bear emoji person responds with a hugging emoji and a short sentence. "Wait for me to go on my break." I put Brandon's phone back where it belongs without changing the password and deleting the album. Once the morning sun is up, I brew myself some coffee as usual before finishing it quietly. Then, I turn on my computer and book myself a flight ticket to Dalco. It's been eight years. Finally, I don't have to chase after Brandon's flight routes and wait for his mealtimes. I no longer have to stay in an empty house while guessing which flight destination he's headed to right now. Since Brandon's sky refuses to tolerate my presence, I shall move my roots elsewhere and watch the sunset on my own.

On the flight home, the plane starts shaking violently. Certain I'm about to die, I call my husband, Rhys Callahan, to say my last words. He hangs up on me, and his auto-reply flashes on the screen. "Driving. On my way to pick up Daphne." I've taken 86 flights in our five years of marriage. Every time I'm about to land, I ask him to come get me, and every time, the answer is the same. "Daphne's getting in too. I have to pick her up." He picks up Daphne Langston all 86 times. The lowest point comes during a rainstorm. I drag my suitcase through the downpour outside the terminal for two hours, unable to get a ride. When I call him, Daphne's voice comes through, laughing. "Oh, Rhys is helping me with my luggage right now. He can't come to the phone." Now the cabin fills with screaming and sobbing. The plane spirals out of control at cruising altitude, the left wing shearing away as flames light up the windows. My phone buzzes with a message from him. "Just picked Daphne up. What time do you land? I'll come get you." I stare at the screen and let out a bitter laugh. After five years, he's finally offering to pick me up. But fire swallows the plane as it plunges toward the ground. He doesn't know I'm no longer coming home.