Dance Devils Novels & Stories

she asked inquisitively. “Devils Night is our favorite night of the year, a night of mischief. It started in Detroit but has spread so far beyond all of that. It is a night to celebrate being young and free, a night to have a little fun. I don’t see anything wrong with that.” she was hanging on my every word. It was all true but there was another reason for the name. Devil’s night was also Synestra’s birthday. “One final question, what do you think about the protests and people saying you somehow brainwash your fans with your music?” she asked and I could tell she thought this was a hard hitting question. I decided to have a little fun with her.

Whirling strobe lights give me fractured glimpses of Devon, who I guided into the gyrating crowd. When we started dancing, Devon looked so tempting, tall, and slim, but his tight round booty was encased in fitted black jeans with rips at the knees with a white loose-fitting dress shirt. He caught my attention and others, girls, too! His outfit showcased his broad shoulders and tight waist. His deep brown hair was combed off his face making him stand out even more. Devon had moves that excited me. The man was getting it on the dance floor as he went all out to show me the best time of my life.

Since when did this bar get so crowded? "Argh! Now you're making me feel like the bad person." Devon slumped down on the couch. "I brought you here and you're forcing me to leave you alone. Tonight, I'll show you that in this whole universe, you can never find a friend as loyal as me." He took a bottle from one of the many wine bottles on the table. "Let's drown our sorrows together, Buddy. We'll yell to the world that this is not game over." "By the way." Devon lowered his voice and sighed. "If I dance with those ladies and Rosslyn gets wind of it, she's going to skin me alive."

His voice drops into a dark, lethal tone that carries to every single corner of the silent chapel. "You know what they say, Pierre… the devil always comes to collect..."

She barely acknowledges him, except for the faint smile that brushes her face and immediately replaces it with a passive look. Laurel sits between them and all the while, she doesn't say a word. She is not oblivious of her surrounding, he knows it. Her face shows it all. He can sense the tension in the room. The expectancy. Maybe his subconscious already foresaw this and made sure he wears nothing other than black. A black suit, black T-shirt a black trouser and a red tie. He is the devil in this case. He can sense it. They don't hate him. They don't hate the extent he will take this to get answers. Not yet. Not until they see him questioning a family that is still in shock. A family current

"How about this!!!!" "REALLY LUCAS!" The Devil throw back his head. 'Those imbeciles' "Come onnn this is gorgeous. Huh! I bet Cinderella will ditch the dumb prince to wear this!" "I said no! That is not even princess type." Currently The Devil has held a competition. Yes a competition. That is about who can find the best princess dress.The participants are Lucas and the devil's sister Rehana. Both highly qualified as they brag about their fashion sense all the damn time. Both are competitive.

She wouldn't miss this show for anything. What could the devil's son possibly cook?

The name is not Dustin, but Devlin this time, and a new desire below the name. “Remember at your highest moment, the devil makes his move,” the bartender whispers solemnly, forcing me to look back up, but he is nowhere in sight. Suddenly, an intense wave of fear washes over me and I stumble back as I look around. I’m not sure if it is the extreme intoxication, or if it is really happening in front of my eyes. The bar clears and I am left alone. The dim yellow lights change to blue, centred, making me the spotlight in a now dark room.

The Earl shrieked in wonder, "You call her a maiden! She is no maiden. She's a thief! A mercenary, unbelievable thief!" He continued barking while he walked backwards away from them, "She handed her drink to the Earl of Vetcom, said things too daring for any normal Scottish woman and stole food. You would not call such person a mai…" He found himself staggering suddenly, noticing he was just at the edge of a ditch, one he didn't notice because he was too busy shouting. While he found himself falling into it, a hand quickly gripped around his hard and tight. Gently, that same hand pulled him up, straight back to his balance. And it was the devil herself.

We don’t have to agree. But you will respect everyone in this room. – Evie “Mrs. Davis is your mom?” the girl nodded with what Evie would learn was a permanent smirk. “That’s good. Miss Davis, what is your question?” “Is it true that you’re involved with two men?” “I am.” Evie smiled and the smile on the girl’s face fell slightly. “I am engaged to two men; both are members of the Devil’s Saints. One works for Wolf Pack Security, the other is a tattoo artist and you will probably see both of them from time to time.”