Brian O'connor Novels & Stories

I pleaded, unable to tear my eyes away. "You must mistake me for someone who cares," Gunnar brushed the outer shell of my ear with his soft lips, "keep those big eyes of yours open." "Gunnar, please. No!" "Shut up, Quinn!" I shook in his hold. Everything should have gone as fast as I expected it too but it didn't. Time purposely slowed down, antagonizing me. Gunnar showed no remorse when he pulled the trigger. Braxton's lips pulled up in a small smile as if to say he would be okay before I saw his brain matter and blood spray behind him. I just stared at Braxton's limp body. When Gunnar finally let go of me my knees buckled and I collapsed to the floor. That moment played on repeat in my hea

I try to get up from the chair to see who entered. In between the reporters and camera flashes, I see a tall man in a black suit. The scene looks similar to the scene of a gigantic ship crushing minor boats and sailing ahead. He walks in straight like an Egyptian God, not giving a flying fuck to anyone. Reporters chant his name 'Ryan, one pic. Ryan', but he didn’t turn. His aura is powerful like a hunter, so deadly and dangerous. He seems to fill the space around him like some dark entity. I didn’t notice myself shifting on the chair, the temperature is getting hotter of my seat automatically, boiling my bottom.

For them. They were coming through faster now. The lost. The murdered. The forgotten. Spirits with unfinished hunger. Some whispered. Some screamed. Some laughed as they rose. Allowed them to rise, to stand, to come back for what they wanted to come back to. To get what they wanted and what they deserved. But one was silent. Always silent. Dorian. Sienna’s father. The man that I believed, I loved. He had been dead for years. Not hidden. Not erased. Just gone, peacefully, stubbornly, still.

Connor was not sure with the way he was slipping in and out of consciousness. He looked older than Connor remembered. He was now streaked with gray, but his presence was as solid as ever. Tino, the last man loyal to Alonzo Romano—Connor’s father, the former Italian mafia don before their world had been wiped out like ash in the wind. He had been in hiding for almost three years, just like Connor. And now, he was all Connor had.

And with that, he turned and stalked out of the cabin as fast as he had entered, shutting the door hard behind him. My mother collapsed into a chair, shaking. "Who was that, Annie? His power.it was wonderful. I've never felt anything like it, not even from the Martial Lord." I kept mute, but I knew then my mom knew my state. I couldn't say a lot. I looked down at my babies, their tiny fists opening and closing. My sons needed a pack. They needed the best protection they would have. And Damon, for his wickedness, was still an Alpha, still known by all. The strange man was too much of a risk.

Tom O'Connor was a Labour political figure who was Shadow Deputy Prime Minister to Nick Stratton and a strong supporter of Brexit, Immigration, and the return of troops to Afghanistan. Many Labour Party supporters deliberated O'Connor was a turncoat to the political party and to the values it professes to back, and some wished he would misplace his location in the next shadow Government shake-up. One of them was Gerry Agnew, a billionaire with incomplete party-political knowledge but satisfactory individuality to take a stand slightly against the return of troops to Afghanistan. Agnew contested and overcame O'Connor at a local election in Suffolk, earning the right to run for election as the

He must've thought this was his moment. So much so that the dumbass actually put the call on speaker. "Hello? This is Andrew Sullivan from O'Brian Law Firm—" "SULLIVAN, YOU ABSOLUTE SON OF A BITCH!!!!" The voice boomed through the phone, making the entire room go silent. Andrew visibly flinched. "Wh-who is this?" "IT'S CONNOR O'BRIAN, YOU DIMWIT!!! DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO THE HELL YOU'RE MESSING WITH?!!!"

When Don saw Phelan, his eyes burned with hate. He bellowed—a sound that was somewhere between a yell, a moo, and a really loud belch. “Hey, Phelan,” She then shouted back. “Didn't I kill you already?” He pounded his fist into the dress she wore, and it crumpled like aluminum foil. A few dracaenae threw flaming javelins at her. She knocked them aside. A hellhound lunged, and she sidestepped. She could have stabbed it, but She hesitated. “This is not Mrs. O'Leary”, Don said to himself. This is an untamed wolf. It will kill me and all my friends.

I need to speak with Denver about this though before I jump to a conclusion, if I've learned anything in my days; it's never to do that. Rowena stopped walking to turn around slightly enough for her head to face mine. "Um, can I ask you who brought you here?" She asked, slowing down her already sluggish pace. I shrugged my shoulders to her. Truthfully, I don't know exactly who brought me here, just that his name is Torin. I doubt he's part of the pack by the way Denver treated him back there, so he could be anyone. I guess I'm really only here for my mate, but do I tell her that? I feel like I should talk this over with Denver before I say anything to anyone. The last thing I want to do afte

It was more from a being which was supposed to be extinct. A creature which shouldn't be alive and seen more as a myth. He was glad he was able to reach Trevor on time before he was killed because if the DNA matched what he wanted and also, the scan he wanted to perform, he'd even be more famous. As he strode into the room, he glared at a lab technician, Harry, as he stood by the doorway. "Take that handcuffs off him!" "I-I thought..." Harry stammered. "He's an intern." A brunette, Marie said as she stepped into the room.