Books About Guns And Roses Novels & Stories

She stomped her feet like a child throwing a tantrum. “Everything”, Charles said coldly. “Kate will always be better than you” Rose's expression twisted into rage, her lips slowly curved into a wicked smile. “Then I’ll have to get rid of her, so no one is better than me”. Kate and Charles frowned. Rose revealed the gun she was holding behind her and pointed it at them. “Step aside, Charles”, she hissed, a craze look in her eyes. “I’ll be doing the world a favour by getting rid of her”

DAMIAN BLACKWOOD The gun in my hand was heavy. I had used many kinds of guns over the years, but this was one that particularly weighed me down, holding me to the chaos that had erupted in our home while having nothing to do with its weight. For all I knew, I had had many enemies like my father before me, but none had dared to come close to our home, both during his time and during mine. None at all.

Rose ordered that they be put to the ground next to Veronica and Sebastien but before Christina knocked her knees, she immediately pounced forward and this time, she had a gun in her hands. “Oh my God, where did you get that?” April gasped and it was a gun aimed at her own mother. The guards immediately threw themselves behind but Rose raised her hands to stop them. She smirked, looking right inside Christina’s eyes before inching close. “Leave her.” “She wouldn’t dare” Rose whispered, as sure as a rock and she moved closer to Christina until her hands clasped her face. “You wouldn’t shoot your own mother” She manipulated and a tear rolled down Tina’s cheeks.

She was hoping for him to say something, but he never did. "I guess you're right," Ahankara smiled back, before sighing. "That's just how fate works." She looked at Yashvir with tender eyes and a soft smile. "Flames, no matter how dangerous, always seem to be drawn towards roses." - - - - - -

ROMAN'S POV. Roses and i have had s smooth relationship as of recent. Things have been really great between us and the more I spent time with her, the more stories she told me both the serious and ridiculous part of her live back in San Francisco the more fond i grew of her. I remember she once told me about a day she and her friend when into a boutique acting high and classy and took all the jelly gum in the jar of the store and walked out without buying anything.

As soon as I did, she skillfully pulled out her own gun and aimed it at me. "Did you seriously think I would come here without any security measures? I suggest you drop your gun now. I have more experience with guns than you, and one shot from me can end you in an instant." Rose was right. She had worked for my father for a long time, and handling guns wasn't unfamiliar to her, unlike me. I rarely used guns, and in a shootout, I would definitely be at a disadvantage. "Drop it, George!" she yelled, and I had no choice but to let go of the gun.

"Aww my Rose. I'm so proud of you! All this time I had doubted your morals but you turned out to be-Wait, what about the two guns do you own then? Do they give guns to new learners like you, as well!?" Rose grinned at me and then held out her two guns in front of me. Then, she took one gun and looked at me. "This one is legal, given to me for my safety against unseen danger." She held out the other gun and emptied down all the bullets on her hand before placing it on my bed. "This one is mine-" "It must be illegal then-" "It's licensed gun, Emily. I'm totally eligible to keep it with me." Feeling heavily jealous, I crossed my arms around my chest, my cheeks puffed up in trivial rage. "Sure.

Alexander shuts his eyes, trying to block out the memory of her fighting to the death to protect them. "—but it was just a fluke. Those damn Roses and their explosives; it's as if they think they're military or something. Who ever heard of the mafia using bombs? It's simply not stylish," Rolf continues. "Well, it's clear they don't care much about style," Alexander replies, recalling the young woman they encountered, who had begged for help and drawn their attention. When they were distracted by her, the Roses began shooting, and she got caught in the crossfire. He shakes his head, determined to dislodge the thought. If he dwells too long on the horrific things he's witnessed, he fears he mi

Each breath carries the flavor of gun oil and the metallic hint of blood I cleaned from Isla’s nose today when she sneezed, the color a red-gold shade, like a molten sunset. She found it amusing. My five-year-old giggled as her nose dripped the hues of the city. I did not. I’m wiping down the rifle for the fourth round my hands working automatically when the basement door squeaks and Rosa descends the stairs. She’s dressed in tactical pants and one of my worn Marine hoodies with the sleeves cut off to reveal scars that never fully healed. Her machetes are fastened across her like wings. “You resemble death’s bookkeeper " she remarks, her voice hoarse, from sleeplessness.

Rose shrugged and took some steps forward. "Wait..." Jeff called, as he stroked his full beard. Rose halted and turned around. "Are you sure you can do this?" He asked. Rose threw her hands in the air and shot him a derisive gaze. "What?! I was born for this." she rolled her eyes. "In fact—you know what? Give me your gun." she moved closer, gesturing him to take off the gun he had strapped at his back and give it to her. "What?!" he raised his brows, confused.