Cole Macgrath Novels & Stories

Caitlin grabbed a chair and sat down adjacent to me, her bare thighs squashing down onto the seat as she folded her ankles and leaned back. She gestured with her hand to let me continue, almost impatiently and I cocked an eyebrow at her with a small smile. This woman… "If," I emphasised. "You're willing. Your target would be Lucas Trevino, software engineer and owner of Godfather nightclub." I paused for her reaction and she simply just nodded her head waiting for me to continue.

alright take care " He smiles and leaves [ARMY BASE] Macgonnel walked into the capture room with other sergeants and soldiers with a blank expression. Madeye has finally been apprehended and it is time to face him . " Well well well looks like you didn't age general" madeye said grinning. He was an ugly middle aged man with an hideous scar that took his left eye and many tattoos and ear-piercing on his body . Macgonnel looks at him , his eyes cold ... He can never forget that madeye was the one that lead the attack that killed his wife .

Max I sit in my seat at church, located to the left of Austin. The long oval red oak table proudly presents the emblem of our club. The death symbol holding his usual scythe along with a shield. Under the emblem are the words Nightmare Warriors MC in black bold letters. We have only been in church a few moments and are still waiting on a few brothers to join us, but judging my Austin's nervous behavior, I can tell something is defiantly wrong. The thought worries me. This club doesn't need any more bullshit.

Her determination to understand this world—and her place in it—was palpable. The MacLeod village sprawled across a valley, surrounded by hills dotted with patches of heather and bramble. Smoke curled lazily from the chimneys of stone cottages, and the air was rich with the mingling scents of freshly tilled earth and livestock. Children darted between homes, their laughter ringing out like bells, while men returned from the fields with weary smiles, axes slung over their shoulders. The hold itself stood tall at the heart of the village, a formidable structure of gray stone crowned with banners bearing the MacLeod crest.

“Four, plus me. Good fortune smiled on us, though. It just happened that an old Scottish buzzard, named Malcom McDonald, heard all the bitchin’ amongst the ranchers about our sheep comin’ when he was getting’ supplies for the lumber camp he worked at. He used to raise sheep in Scotland, ya see. He came to us right away. Claims he’s too old for lumberin’.” “Is he too old for sheep herding?” Ian asked with concern. “He can chase away a wolf just as easy as the next guy,” Mike assured him. “We talked for a long time. He knows a lot about sheep. I put him second in charge because of it.”

Wait until you see Big Easy—he throws the bones—but he always bows to her readings. “Alpha Gallagher. Second MacOmb.” The man who’s stopped before us also speaks with an accent, but unlike Tarot’s Louisiana drawl, his is dotted with the glottal stops, hard consonants and vowels like Anna’s. He’s about six feet tall and muscular with olive-brown skin, good features and lively dark eyes. Catching up with him with the same tranquil poise and unhurried gait, is a second man of the same height, with a kindly, open countenance, slightly wavy and coarse dark brown hair and a peculiar but not unpleasant mouth, the upper lip a trifle shorter than the lower.

Jericho grunted as he poured himself a drink. “Especially his brat of a brother,” “Macai is leader of the Legions of the East and a former Savager as well. He is not to be taken lightly,” Algae inputted as he snatched the drink from Jericho's hand. “Pour yourself another,” “Scarred face bitch,” Jericho cussed as he poured himself another glass. “Now, to talk about the bigger issue,” Raid voiced as he stood to his feet. “Your share of the Khang's revenue, it's needed princess,”

Greg asked, getting annoyed at his friend's ramblings. One of the people sitting in front of him also said, "Knox, are you stupid?" "What do you mean?" Knox asked, not accepting being called stupid. "This is William Mackenzie, the God of Death. A legend who has been said to have never lost a war. Even when he used the name Bill Stewart, he proved himself worthy of being a war general. How can you still doubt his ability? You're crazy!" the man said without looking back.

Roman shrugged with a smirk. "i'll prefer you were the one doing the biting" Camila rolled her eyes and walked out of the room. The couple walked out of their penthouse and down to the lobby where they met Cory more than dressed for the occassion. He was dressed in an army green jacket, over shorts, hiking boots, a cap and a huge bagpack on his bag, It was so huge that they wondered how he was able to carry it.

“I apologize . I should not have spoken to you that way." “It’s fine.” Macy said stiffly, her gaze still fixed straight ahead. It was clear to Graeme that it was not fine, that he had offended her. Prompted by his guilt, he blurted. “I don’t know who his mother is.” He admitted softly.” I only met her once, and the circumstances in which I met her were… unsavory. I don’t even recall her face.” “Oh.” Macy mumbled, some of the stiffness leaving her demeanor. “I’m sorry.”