Duncan Quagmire Novels & Stories

One human and the other a member of my pack, I don’t remember their name, but I recognize their scent and face. “Sorry to wake you, Mister Logan,” the human greeted. “Morning, trooper. Something I can help you with?" I asked, falling into character “I’m Trooper Shadow, and this is Trooper Bryant. We received a report of an attack on a couple of campers not far from your cabin last night,” the human spoke up. Bryant. I looked at my pack member, and now I remembered him. David Bryant, he’s friends with Mikali and Kurt.

Jano sighed and explained when the Duchess had managed to escape from her golden prison, "we need a bit more time to repair that side of the barrier, after all, a phoenix fire is not common. Sigh… what a headache." From the moment Jano finished explaining, Rufus was dying of laughter at the desk. His usually gentle and polite face had cracked to reveal his personality's silly side. It never crossed his mind that someone would make that Duke so helpless one day. He was starting to like more and more that silver-haired woman. "This is so good, I must tell Callum when he comes back, that coward," he wiped his tears, "finally… sigh… someone with the courage to manage that stone-faced bastard."

He couldn't believe Laurel's nerve of asking Vanessa to come with them but on the other hand, he knew it was a strategy to make them reconcile. Darik was on his feet, ready to embrace Laurel. Vanessa couldn't help but think the duo were so different, yet perfect for each other. Laurel was a calm and loving Doctor while Darik could perfectly be described as a rookie CEO. But what matters was that he respects, adores and loves Laurel Matthews.

Chapter 23: A Favorable Wind The Quinn Residence, Backwoods, Temperance, South Dakota... Jarrett A. Quinn was a vastly peculiar man, and even the residents of Temperance, South Dakota thought him an oddity. His nature was that of a vulgar man with a heated temperament and low beady blue eyes that seemed to stare right through the soul of anyone full enough to look him straight in the eye but never reflected what was inside him when one hoped to look for a soul behind them. He spent the better part of any day he wasn't working, drunk off his arse and sitting in his lazy boy armchair with his trusty rottweiler dog Brutus beside him. Layla had not known much about her mother, but her father ha

Though I recognize his loud, booming voice and domineering tone, I can't actually hear what he's saying over the loud music. Relief that I can't explain washes through me as I watch Duncan. Despite the woman's best efforts, he's not picking up on the obvious advances. I take a deep breath and remember to move. He hasn't seen me and is now facing Jimmy and the stage. I'm right behind him when I tap him on the shoulder. Duncan turns. Instead of his usual fun smile, his features are stern. And then his eyes meet mine. "What the fuck are you doing in here?"

Jack explained eagerly. "Okay." "According to General Lockwood, Charles Anderson is Lawrence Duncan, he is an ex-Marine just like your dad, but Charles was discharged with dishonorable one due to a crime he had done, which were concealed by the highest authorities and now, there is no way to trace that file," Jack stated with a disheartened tone.

He was still wearing the torn remnants of his shirt from the alleyway fight, and his hands were trembling slightly as he clutched a sleek, encrypted military laptop against his chest. He didn't stand tall like a king. His broad shoulders were slumped, and his supreme aura was completely retracted, locked away so deeply that he smelled like a regular, unranked human. He looked at Amora through the screen door, his expression filled with a raw, bleeding agony. "Amora," Duncan whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "I am not here to fight Oscar. I am not here to demand anything. I just... you need to see this. For the children."

Duncan thumbed his chin, wondering what he would do. He snapped his fingers, going close to the bush and whispering, "I am Duncan Mirthon, mate of Erin Grendel, the one who-" Before he could finish his sentence, the vine struck his cheek, slicing his skin. Duncan hissed, jumping out of the way, feeling his blood dribble down his cheek. "Damn it!" He exclaimed under his breath at the pain that bit his skin. He sat on a small rock, until he remembered he was invisible and could easily sneak into the kingdom.

Not just a wolf. But a force of nature. And no matter how much I wanted to run from him, some part of me—some maddening, aching part—knew it would be impossible. Whether I liked it or not, this man, this beast, this protector… was mine. And I was his. Our eyes were still locked when footsteps echoed across the ruined chamber. His beta entered—Lieutenant Daniel, clad in formal armor, eyes darting from the destroyed wall to the blood-soaked floor, then to the dead assassin sprawled at Alexandro’s feet.

(Duncan) San Antonio, Nueva Ecija 1990 “IT was tragic, wasn’t it? Losing the one we love. They leave permanent scars in our hearts which no medicine in the world could heal. I know that terrible feeling that’s why I’m here to help you. I can wake Therese for you, Duncan.” Slowly, I lifted my face when I heard that voice. I was greeted by a tall man with pale skin and blue eyes. He was wearing white all over. From his hat and trench coat down to his leather shoes. It was night time, but he was shining so brightly.