Cowboy Hat Rules Novels & Stories

Always the first to walk into hell. The screen above lights up and the rules of the castle get displayed. I had seen it before so I looked away but froze when I saw the fourth rule. There have always been three rules to Dracula’s castle and I knew them at heart. The first rule was no swearing in the castle. Deadies that swear inside the castle get terminated asap. Even swearing in your mind was forbidden. What can I say? The count was a petty son of a bitch. The second rule was don’t look into mirrors. The third rule forbids deadies from hiding in the shadows for more than a minute or they become shadow fiends. I stare at the new rule for a moment. I don’t know what to make of it. The rule s

Those with their wolves qualified for high-level combat in the Warrior Tier. Shifting rules were strict. The announcer’s voice boomed, reminding everyone of the regulations. The shifting rules were strict: - A wolf could not shift if their opponent had not. - Violations resulted in severe sanctions against the hosting pack. - If a non-shifting fighter wanted to challenge a wolf, they accepted the risk—but wolves were still forbidden to use claws or teeth. - They could shove, block, body-check, or restrain. - No blood if it could be avoided (not likely, but it looked good in the rule book).

An awkward silence enveloped them until Creed blurted "Alright...Since now that we're on the same page...let me tell you the rules. There are three things you all need to keep in mind." "First...Pull out your most powerful weapon and go for the head. I don't care even if it costs you your speed but I need brutal force. When you are at your limit, give a signal, and I will choose the next sprinter." "Second, Don't keep track of my arrows, nor are you allowed to dodge them. Just focus on your own job and let me do mine!"

When the two fighters were inside the ring, the noise died down, including the sound of diverse instruments stopping and it was Lucas's turn to speak. The fighters stood opposite each other while Lucas climbed into the ring, standing in their midst. He looked down at the scroll and began reading the rules of the game. "Without further ado, werewolves of Mountain Howl, I will just go straight to the list of rules we have for this tournament" he said and shuffled his left foot on the floor. "Rule number one, there's no using of wolf side." Cora watched as one of the fighters raised his hand in dissatisfaction and she instantly knew that must be Max.

Nothing was worse than buckle bunnies on the prowl for a “real” cowboy. He wasn’t sporting the obvious cowboy clothing, but he owned the attitude. Macie finished her beer, and headed toward the contestant’s gate. With any luck, her dad was done screwing around. When the wind caught her hat, she wadded it up and tossed it in the closest trashcan. She hated the cheap damn thing anyway.

After he leaves, and Harlow retires to his room, I eat breakfast and focus on work. The first portrait, one of a famous hockey player, should be gotten over with today. After all, it is Thursday already. Lunchtime arrives, and I am driven to the Golden Paradise Hotel. “So, let’s get to the point, rules,” I demand smiling at him. “Eager much?” He cocks a brow, then clears his throat and states, “Rule number one, the wives must be treated with respect. Rule number two, no looking at the capo’s wife, or the wife of any other family member. Rule number three, the members and the capo must remain loyal to their wives.”

“Yes, my way. Now, listen.” “Okay. All ears.” He lays his back on the couch and placed his legs up above the the couch, folding his arms. His socked feet were almost brushing my body. “Rule number one, this is fake.” “Yeah. I never said it was real.” “Let me finish. I mean fake fake, no romance, no intimacy. No flirting, no touching. Unless handshakes for agreement or formal hugs for filming.” I looked at his face and he was grinning. “What? This isn't funny.”

In races, fights, life — fear gets you killed. Rule 5: Never start a fight. Count to ten. Walk away. Breathe. But once the first punch lands? Rule 3 applies. Rule 6: Fuck and leave. I never bring a girl home. That’s what hotels are for. No sleepovers. No cuddling. No breakfast conversations where I pretend to remember their name. No drama. I make the terms clear upfront. Efficient. Clean. Necessary. Rule 7: No condom, no sex. Money and fame breed insanity, especially in women. I’ve seen girls try to steal used condoms, spit cum from their mouths into containers, and punch holes into condoms. Like getting pregnant is a winning lottery ticket. Not happening.

Second Rule: “This one is for the women of Luxford. Thou shall not flirt with Taylor West. Yes, he is charming. Yes, he is taken. No, you cannot have him. The last person who tried? Let’s just say she is no longer among us.” Charlie: “...” Inner Devil: ‘What?! Hahaha!’ Guardian Angel: ‘Technically, he’s not lying.’ Third Rule: “Thou shall not covet my daughter. She is already dating Taylor.” In their seats, Charlie and Taylor talked among themselves. “Well, at least these rules are in our favor,” Taylor remarked, and Charlie only chuckled. “Fourth rule!” Adrain resumed. “Thou shall not use my daughter’s name in vain. If I hear unnecessary gossip involving Charlie, the responsible parties wi

Cowboy asked. “We’ll face that when the time comes, but for now I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt,” Breed gritted out. “In his present state, we can’t even hold a tribunal on him.” “A tribunal?” Greer spat out. “We all know what that bastard has done. You know damn well what the verdict would be if we held a tribunal.” Breed nodded. “Yeah, I do, but this MC obeys the rules we all live by because without rules, there’s nothing but anarchy. A good club can’t run on chaos and doubt. We’re better than that.”