Al Brooks Books Novels & Stories

It was too damn early in the morning for anyone to be that gorgeous and. She stopped her train of thought right there. She'd done some research on the market and found that steamy romance was the in thing these days, so she had sex on the brain. She'd read a few snippets of stories about hot alpha males who were the take charge and forceful type. She hadn't known until now that she was into that. But the fact that she'd kept putting this one's face over everything she read, imagining it was him they were describing, was a recipe for trouble.

Elara nodded, returning her attention to her text book. Nyra also opened the book she had just gotten and began talking about something else entirely, but Elara’s mind was somewhere else, because despite how easily the words had come, how sensible the choice felt, Adrian Moore’s name lingered far longer in her mind than she wanted to admit.

A hurray for me, yay. Sighing, I went towards my locker. She smirked at me, giving me the space to open up the lock. Opening up the metal door, I placed my books inside and closed it. “What do you need?” I said, turning towards her. I was already tired and I didn’t want another drama. “Aw, poor whore is talking back?” Her high pitched voice entered my ears. I winced back. “Oh wait, you’re not a whore, you’re a fucking prostitute who loves to open her legs.”

Not like this. I barreled through undergrowth, branches ripping at my arms and face, giving me little red slashes I didn’t notice at first. The world smelled of damp earth and gun smoke and my own blood. Each breath I pulled tasted of iron and fear. I choked on it and kept moving.

LANEY "I can't believe you are officially twenty one we going to get shit faced tonight "my friend Alison says "bitch I can't wait I even want to get laid "so you climbing that chocolate mountain tonight ?"she asks wiggling her brows I smile "yes we have been going out for two months already I need it " she laughs while I put on the final touch ups on my make up. A knock comes at my bedroom door "come in "I say my stepbrother Zach steps in his unruly jet black waves come to his eyes which are framed by thick black glasses hiding the true colour of his eyes sometimes they green or blue I am not sure.

Climbing off the top bunk, I stretched. “Merry Christmas,” Brooks said from the bottom bunk. “Merry Christmas,” I muttered back. I’d given it a lot of thought last night, I was going to try to distance myself from Brooks a bit. I’d sort of fallen into a friendship with him under false pretenses. He’d been the one to show me the ropes, claiming that no one would touch him because his father paid off the guards. Nothing could be further than the truth. No one would touch him because he stabbed people in the neck with pencils. And after the guard’s ominous warning yesterday, I was wary about spending time with him.

THIRD PERSON POV As soon as Luke heard Riley’s footsteps fading down the hallway, the last barrier of containment broke. Without hesitating for a single second, he extended his right hand and buried it hard into Frederick’s hair, trapping the nape of his neck to move his head to his goddamn liking. Luke hissed like a devil between his teeth, letting out muffled groans that filled the suite. He lowered his gaze over his own torso and saw the immense silhouette of his stepbrother. He couldn't believe it. Absolutely real.

Gotta love that ginger bro :) Thanks for reading!

"I just said yes to her because you were dancing with that Mouth person." "Mouth isn't some slut who will try and sleep with me!" She argued that he would even compare her sweet Mouth to Rose. "How am I supposed to know if he is or isn't?" Jaxx questioned. "I mean his name is Mouth, I feel like someone nicknamed Mouth couldn't be sweet and innocent," he said not getting why she started to laugh a little. "Broody you are so cute," Eve got over her mood, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Mouth got the nickname Mouth because he talks all the time about sports," she shakes her head. "Any other reason, I do not know."

Hit me up. Then another: Homewrecker. And another: Daddy issues much? I turn my phone face-down on the floor, but I can still hear it buzzing against the floor. When I finally look up through blurred vision, Maya Brooks is standing at the end of the hallway. The student manager clutches her practice schedule against her chest, staring at me with something that might be pity. "Maya" I start to call out. Instead she turns and walks away quickly, her sneakers squeaking on the floor.