Cars 2 Lightning Mcqueen Hudson Hornet Novels & Stories

Stupid fuckers are about to get fucked up. Poor Lincoln is partially out of it as I whip my all black Audi R8 Panther Edition into the lot of the club. It's not my most expensive car but it's one of my favorites for what I keep ay my penthouse. The car comes to a stop and I see my kitten isn't alone. In fact I recognize two out of the three people with my kitten. They're talking very animatedly with each other until the unknown woman nudges my kitten and nods her head in my direction. I step out of the car earning a surprise gasp followed by "Boss" and "Malachi" being said at the same time. I smirk as the Bardo twins look questionably between us. My kitten doesn't think twice before jumping

He didn’t need to reply to Alphonse’s words because in a few minutes, Alphonse was going to see for himself. He took the elevator to the lowest level, where the private garage was, and Louis was already waiting for him beside his baby. Aiden had a broad smile when he caught sight of his car; he had a personal garage here in the headquarters where he kept all the cars he collected or bought. Tonight, he chose to drive his midnight blue McLaren 720S—he had spent a lot of time modifying this car to his satisfaction. He walked over to Louis and tapped his shoulder. “Let’s get you loosened up tonight, okay?”

He winked at her, and she disappeared. Nat went into the garage. They followed, riding their horses halfway before returning them to the stable. The garage opened remotely, revealing a fleet of cars inside. They looked untouched, their paint gleaming. Jean began laughing. “Okay…?” “Is that a Mustang?” John asked, eyeing the Ford with great interest—its large tires, jet headlights, an air dam mounted on the bonnet. “Yes.” “Can I try it?” “You can have it. Pick yours, Jean.”

The metallic click of the handgun chambering a round was completely deafening in the back of the Maybach. "Faster," Lucian roared, his voice tearing through his throat as the driver violently whipped the massive car around in the middle of a busy intersection. Tires shrieked against the asphalt, leaving a cloud of thick, burning smoke in their wake.

Help! In a flash, Warren was up and he didn't even bother to clean himself up. He jumped into his car and headed towards Carnarvon at full throttle. As he was speeding through the streets of Richmond, Warren had only one thought in mind. Was she safe or was her life in danger? Warren knew that he couldn't waste a moment, so he put his foot down and put the engine of his Mercedes C-200 to work.

My chest swelled with something dangerous—pride, maybe even safety. Outside, a sleek black sports car gleamed under the lights. Matteo opened the door with a flourish. “Get in.” I raised a brow. “What car is this?” He grinned, boyish for the first time all day. “Bugatti Chiron.” I rolled my eyes, but my lips betrayed me with the faintest smile. We slid into the city, Lana Del Rey’s The Other Woman spilling from the speakers. I turned it up, letting the haunting voice fill the silence. Matteo’s hands tightened on the wheel, his jaw ticking.

Nevertheless, we all filed out after Pop called his on-staff mechanic to bring the car around front. I have no idea what the fire engine red thing was. I just know it looked like something from a bygone era, which is right up Lance and Pop's alley. "Is that the Hudson Hornet convertible? No way! An original? Fifty-one? How did you get it in this color?" He rattled off questions while Pop just smiled at him as he walked around the machine. "Here." Pop passed him the keys. "I can take it out?" There was awe and reverence in his voice.

But Hector would not settle for an answer that would make him like an afraid idiot mackerel who would scuffle his way inside a can; he also has his own alas! "Not a problem of course. I was just wondering if you are not afraid to scratch or crash that expensive car of yours. By the way, I will be using my BMW Z4 M40i Roadstar." Atty. Hector laughed out loud when Atty. Garette cursed with his breath hissing like a mad whirlpool. Atty. Greg shook his head smirking. "Alright then, my baby Nissan 370Z Nismo will hug my goddam ass while flying, letting you all breath my belches."

Raven's black Mercedes car drove into the Scorpion house in Los Angeles. It was one of late Gomez Waxson's properties in America; the man was wise enough to invest in houses in some of California's busiest cities. Raven parked the car under the Carport and and jumped out of the driver's seat with contempt and rage in his eyes. He walked over to the back seat and forcefully dragged two members of the Scorpions who were seated there before he ordered them to carry-out the one that was shot.

"Sniper! North-west rooftop!" ​He slammed the door and punched the gas. The Maybach roared to life, the tires screeching as we tore away from the curb. Another bolt hit the trunk, the silver-tipped projectile sizzling against the reinforced plating. ​"Was that Julian?" I gasped, my heart hammering against my ribs.