Famous Outlaws Novels & Stories

Most Rogues lived off the grid and liked it that way, favoring intense privacy over modern amenities. The houses were funded by a collective run by an anonymous benefactor, a wolf as infamous among Rogues as Maverick Grey was among the Grey Wolves. They called him the Rogue. Not a Rogue, but the Rogue. If there was a leader among the packless, the unwanted, the underdogs and scoundrels of shifter society, it was him. Though few had met him and lived to tell the tale, rumors painted him as a dark Robin Hood, fighting for the better treatment of her kind. He was as much myth and legend as he was a hero.

I buried my face in his chest, the scent of leather and cedar finally allowing me to breathe. "You did good," he whispered, his lips pressing against my temple. "The boys are calling you 'The Doc' now. They saw what you did on the ridge. They saw what you did here. You’re one of us, whether you like it or not." "Is that supposed to be a comfort?" I asked, looking up at him. "Knowing that my life is now defined by how well I can patch up outlaws?"

The largest pack is the Huginn Pack, whose alpha happens to be the first-born twin brother to my alpha. Together the twin brothers control almost half of the shifter region. Our packs run from North Dakota to Washington, from Washington to Texas and from Texas back to North Dakota. That’s 19 states, with the brothers having the two largest packs in the entire country. Being mostly based in California, Nevada, Arizona, Utah, and Oregon. The two packs together have at least 3000 pack members and mates. With the other packs controlling the Eastern coast and states to the middle of the country. The larges eastern pack control about 13 states. The remaining 18 packs are spread out through the m

" Cassie eyes widened. "Yes ma'am ." he replied "Speak quickly !" Caleb ordered. "Remember the outlaws case we had last winter?." His guard asked . "Yeah I do , who doesn't remember, those rabid dogs caused us alot of headache but we took care of them and the rest promised to stay away for as long as possible." " Not all of them stayed far away , Sire! " The guard said smiling . "And I know where the rest of them are actually hiding , I did my findings."

There were more strung-out addicts here than dancers. I headed in the back where I knew the dealers like Max usually hung out. I kept hoping that Cody was wrong. It was darkly-lit in here. He could have mistook Max for someone else. I heard Max’s voice before I even saw him. He was surrounded by his fellow outlaws. I stopped when I saw some older Vandals near him, too. The outlaws made the deals and handed the money to the Vandals who were there only to supervise. I exhaled with relief when I saw that Hank was not there.

While they were sitting around, idly experimenting with a few new knife throws, they heard the clop of horses and looked up to see two riders approaching from the east at an easy trot. “Now who would that be?” Pea asked. “It’s an odd time of day to visit.” “Well, if it ain’t old Juan Cortinas it’s probably just a couple of bank robbers,” Dish said, referring to a Mexican cattle thief who was hailed, south of the river, as a great hero due to the success of his raids against the Texans. “No, it ain’t Cortinas,” Pea Eye said, squinting at the riders. “He always rides a gray.”

This got Melissa upset that her mother replaced her father with someone else, and what her mother didn't know was that Henderson has been trying to assault her but she escapes each time unharmed how she does it, is a wonder. But when he heard that a rich man was after her, he let her be because he wouldn't want to be hanged and stripped off his little wealth. ****** Frederick Stein is one of the rich people in all of Cody Wyoming, he had everything he could ever need. He is a young man with great muscles, he is rich, dead handsome, a well known mine owner, has a huge ranch and refinery, he is well respected in the state, but few knows he has a wide range of gang. Therefore, he is every woman

I wasn’t just another man at the table. I was Dante Valenci’s right-hand. And everyone in this room knew it. But apparently, someone wanted to test just how true that was. The Disrespect – Someone Dares to Challenge Him It was subtle at first. A comment here, a smirk there. But then, Martinez made a mistake. He was a smuggler, connected to the cartel, a man who thought he was bigger than he was. And tonight? He thought he was bold enough to challenge Dante’s claim. “So tell me,” Martinez mused, swirling his drink, his sharp eyes flickering to me. “How does it feel to be in Valenci’s pocket?”

It has always been myself and I. Maybe that is one of the factors why I grew up like this. At such a young age, I was able to provide for my own needs. Not only that, I am able to save money for my future as well. But at what cost? I became an ‘outlaw’ in my very own school. I have broken the school regulation of a religious school. That thought still bothers me, but I chose to continue what I am doing anyway. I even invited lots of my schoolmates so my business’ growth will be unstoppable.

He laughed, the sound making my insides feel a tad weird but in a way it felt nice. "I was clearly busy at the time," I began, my hand indicating my room and the apartment before us. "So there was no time to ask questions on whether anyone resided here, spirit wise that is." I gave a small grin. "Plus I didn't know what to say." "Based upon my observation you," Jem said with a light chuckle. "Cora," he said, brushing his fingers across my cheek. His touch was cool and still semi-solid. "Didn't you have any loyal friends to rely on growing up?" I shook my head to tell him no because in some way I always remained the outcast of anyone that I befriended. A loner who believed that trusting other