Damon Albarn Haircut Novels & Stories

Damon shook his head and showed his tongue. "So let's begin with No. 1. Those people you saw me hugging in that picture were my investors. They really helped me raise money for our company. I didn't tell you this, but after our marriage, some competitors tried to damage our company's reputation. But in the end, some loyal investors helped me with that, and now Williams is back in the field. So that's why I just formally hugged them, but at that moment we were all happy, including dad. But I don't know who took that picture and sent it to you the wrong way. Second, I hugged Cody because he helped with some work. He has become a good friend to me now. More than Jaren and Mace. So it's fine, ok

The scent of hot pancakes fills the air as DAMON and L'OREAL discuss breakfast at the table and DEBORAH prods at her phone with determined vehemence. "DEBORAH, will you braid her hair?" L'OREAL asks hopefully. "No." "Braids are stupid," DAMON interrupts. L'OREAL shoots a resentful glance at her brother. "They are not!" "Do too!" DAMON yells. "Do not!" "Do too!" "Don't!" L'OREAL glares at him as if she'd stop the fires of hell. "And DAMON, if you want your stuffed crocodile brought to life this afternoon, you'd best not say anything more about her hair!"

The warriors of Ashmoor trained there daily, and Damon often joined them to keep his skills sharp. Alina, the female warrior, fell into step beside me as we walked. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, taking in her imposing figure. She was taller than me by at least half a foot, her blonde hair completely buzzed to the scalp on one side with swirling designs tattooed into the skin. The other side was long, with multiple braids and silver rings woven throughout. That, combined with the eye patch over her left eye, gave her a fierce appearance. Even more so with the jagged scar cutting across her brow.

the girl stammered, her voice meek but clear. "Wavy hair is the best, isn't it?" Damian said to no one in particular, still playing with the girl's hair. "What do you all think?" Everyone nodded furiously. "Yes, Sir. Of course." "Definitely." "It suits her perfectly." They had no idea why Damian was suddenly discussing hairstyles, but agreeing felt like the safest thing to do. "How much does a good wavy hairstyle cost?" Damian asked. "Maybe... a few hundred dollars," Brown answered carefully.

" The question was more aimed at our pack rather than the Blood Moon pack members since they clearly had nothing to fear, it seemed. No one stepped forward. Guess everyone was scared. Damon just let out a small chuckle and shook his head slightly, probably laughing at us and our amazing cowardice. That was the first time I'd seen him smile, he even has a dimple. He looked so ... "I'll fight." Oh great the stupid blonde bimbo. And it pissed me off that her hair was the exact same shade as my mom's hair. Blonde waist length hair with platinum highlights. But it looked way better on my mom.

He was already there. Damon stood just inside the heavy curtain, his broad shoulders blocking the strobe-lit chaos behind him. He wasn’t in club clothes. He wore dark trousers and a simple white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, as if he’d come straight from something far more serious. In one hand, held loosely between his fingers like a forgotten cigarette, was the first holy Grail shard.

I could tell they had a good relationship. “Yes, but she wanted to come here today,” Damien replied, smiling. Dante turned to me, and I analysed him. He is pretty buff—not a bad buff, but a good buff. Definitely bigger than Damien. I looked at his muscles, and I was amazed. It must have taken years of hard training to build all that and I see the visible scars. He is not wearing armour, just a black shirt with trousers and black boots. He has a sword wrapped around his waist, and he doesn’t have any facial hair or hair on his head. He is completely bald. I could tell he definitely doesn’t care about ever finding his mate; this is his life, and he would serve it well, honestly he has my respe

“Oh, boy. Call him. This should be entertaining.” “Hello? Neil? I was just heading for bed. Is something wrong?” Damien wasn’t going to bed. But he didn’t tell Neil that. He was glad he got rid of the other call when he did. Any slower, he’d have missed Neil’s call. Damien hadn’t had the chance to dry his hair or style it. At this rate, he’d have to wash it again and start again. This was another reason he’d argued with his stylist about this change. It appeared perfect, modern, and man-of-the-moment. But the upkeep wasn’t practical.

" The question was more aimed at our pack rather than the Blood Moon pack members since they clearly had nothing to fear, it seemed. No one stepped forward. Guess everyone was scared. Damon just let out a small chuckle and shook his head slightly, probably laughing at us and our amazing cowardice. That was the first time I'd seen him smile, he even has a dimple. He looked so ... "I'll fight." Oh great the stupid blonde bimbo. And it pissed me off that her hair was the exact same shade as my mom's hair. Blonde waist length hair with platinum highlights. But it looked way better on my mom.

She still had a lot of things to learn about the Alpha's meals, and she had it in mind to try her best. Minutes later, she took a jug filled with hot milk and a glass cup up the stairs. Both were arranged on a tray. She knocked. After getting the conformation, she gently walked in. Her jaw dropped. Damon stood at the front of the curtain, close to a narrow slit where a reasonable amount of light filtered into the room. It was clear that he didn't want contact with the rays of the sun, because he angled his body out of the curtain slit. This was the clearest Isabella had seen of him. Since his back was turned to her, she took a quick survey. His hair was black, long, and touched around his sh