Brandon Kroeger Novels & Stories

But it didn't freak him out the way it had the day before. There were whispers in town, started by who knows who, but those whispers were heating up fast. It seemed like no sooner had the furor over the divorce died down than there was new news. Of course, there had been other entrees on the gossip menu the last few months, but nothing as juicy as this new little tidbit. "He's Clancy's grandson; came up after poor dear Ethel's funeral rest her soul." "I hear he's loaded." "How loaded can he be, Theo? The boy rides one of those death traps and got tattoos up one side and down the other. I don't think they hire that type in any respectable company."

Avery's POV I stood in the hallway for a moment with the phone in my hand and the name on the screen. Brandon Cole. I knew who Brandon Cole was. He was a wide receiver on the Crestwood Wolves, a junior, and he had been Colton's closest friend on the team since before Liam transferred in. He was not a bad person by reputation. He was just loyal in the way that some people were, without asking too many questions about whether the person they were being loyal to deserved it.

“Arianna is an only child, you have the wrong woman.” “I am Theodore Der Mandant,” he said, looking at Viktor who tensed. The man’s family was well known, and we knew that killing him would end up getting us in trouble. It wasn’t just about him being a messenger right now, it was about who HE was. “I do not make mistakes, and judging by your fumbled expression, I take it that you are well aware who I am, Alpha Dean.”

"Are you going to be working with the Cruz company?" "Yeah... but not now. I have to settle some things first." "So you are an artist?" "I am...but there is nobody that does it better than your brother. His drawings and designs give me inspiration and the desire to do more than I have done before." "Wow...I never knew that my brother was a role model." "He is my role model, I don't know about anyone else." "You should tell him." "Oh no, I can't. It would be too much for me to take in. I need every courage and breath that I can muster."

~Introduction to the Male lead~ Name: Zion Black Knight. Age: 19 years. Lives in: Manchester. A British national. Height: 6.1ft, Fair skin, black eye. He is a high schooler. He is somebody that can't be restrained or tamed. The child of world's best and richest businessman, Andrew Black Knight. The one who brought the renovation in the entire IT industry. He is rich, handsome and intelligent with a photographic memory. Perfect in every way.

Creed snapped. "Now everyone will see who you truly are, brother. You know, my favourite part of all this was the fear in her eyes as she realized you weren't coming to save her. The increased rate of her heart as she realized she was completely and utterly alone." He said lowly as he looked at me. I could see my reflection in his eyes—rage and thirst for blood written all over my face. My eyes were glowing, and my canines elongated. As his words sunk in, my final tether, holding Creed back, snapped. The sound of my bones breaking and a growl erupting from my throat filled the gym. The look of satisfaction on Phillip's face only fuelled my rage. "Alpha, stop," Drake shouted as I pounced on P

Bad publicity could be good publicity but my career would be plunged to the depths of this got out. "I can't Katherine. I cannot lose Nik." I fired back. "I cannot end up a one-hit star. You of all people should know that Katherine. Your career blossomed when you were dating that billionaire vlogger. When he dumped you, you were left fending for scraps with amateurs in the industry. I'm sorry I sound so insensitive right now but I don't want that kind of future for myself."

I don’t know the voice before I recognize the face. “Fuck”, I say under my breath, “Brandon". He is one of the few kills in my career that I couldn’t accomplish. He stares at me with deep brown eyes fixed inside deep sockets. His skin is almost the complexion of coal. 6'9 and all shoulders, he towers over all of us. Muscles from a naturally active lifestyle ripple under his taut skin. He watches me out of the corner of his eye, and I can tell he wants to kill me---shoot me.

“He’s not going to help you. I own everyone I want. You’re mine now. You agreed to marry me. That’s a verbal contract.” The stupid giant ruffle on my dress didn’t do much except amplify every breath I took. But the closer he got, the more my heart raced, and my breaths quickened… and oh, damn, my panties were soaked. Every time I thought I had my feelings under control, that I had pushed away the parts of me that wanted to be a girl and wanted love, this idiot found a way to break through. “Gelo Smith, Beta of the Dark Midnight Pack. We’ll revisit this ownership thing later. But about this proposal? I agreed under false pretenses. No dead guy, no marriage.”

“Go on.” Brandon turned the screen toward him. A handful of photographs, grainy with age, flickered across the monitor. A girl — light-brown hair, awkward teenage smile, braces visible in one picture, a canvas in hand in another. “Her name is Katrina Reed,” Brandon continued. “She’s twenty-one now. Adopted at twelve. College freshman. Interests include photography, painting, and — interestingly — she’s involved in supporting LGBTQ rights campaigns at her campus. We haven’t found recent pictures, but these are from a few years back. She’s kept herself under the radar.”