Flaming Ace Of Spades Novels & Stories

It was easier to lick your wounds, surrounded by humans who didn't know what you were, but his ruthlessness during missions hadn't gone unnoticed and Wild Bill began delegating the more dangerous liaisons to the henchman's special skillset. He didn't mind, over the years it helped dull the pain of Aimee's rejection. Until he walked out the door today and her scent hit him like a freight train, now he couldn't bear to have her out of his sight, why was she back? His eyes traveled the length of her, memorizing every curve, dip, and feature he could see. Did she still bear the Aces and eights mark? Their patch was a set of four cards, two black eights (clubs and spades), and two black spades.

Memories—her laughter, her touch, her voice—rushed in, suffocating him. "I can’t lose you, Jenny," he whispered hoarsely, his forehead pressing to the cold floor. "I only have you." ~~~VELENO CLAN~~~ MIDNIGHT Ace stood outside, a cigarette dangling loosely between his fingers, the ember glowing like a small threat in the dark. His glass mask caught the moonlight, making him look more ghost than man. Smoke curled around his face as he scrolled through his phone, his thumb stopping on a single name: Snow.

Ace was a walking advertisement for the pleasures of the flesh. I saw the woman slip a card into the pocket of Ace’s pants and a strange, heated emotion rolled through my stomach, causing it to cramp and twist. Jealousy? I had never actually experienced the emotion before, and it wasn’t the time or the place to start feeling it now. Or the man to feel it for. A glossy silver Mercedes McLaren was parked near the edge of the tarmac, the convertible top down, the keys in then ignition. I ought to have figured that Ace didn’t go to the rental counter like mere mortals.

When I walked out of the doctor's office with my test results, the hospital's advertisement screen played the scene of Brandon proposing to me. Under a dazzling starry sky, deep blue fireworks lit up the night. He wore a white suit and kneeled in a rose garden, opening a box with a diamond ring inside. The scene was so beautiful that it looked like something straight out of a romance drama. I overheard some patients' family members chatting with a nurse. "I'm really so jealous of Ms. Pace. Meeting a man like Mr. Foster is the luck of eight lifetimes."

Her cuffs gleamed with subtle magic, her expression bored and razor-sharp. Samuel looked like he’d robbed a grave and then attended a gala. His black-on-black suit was ordinary until you noticed the sliver of a blade tucked at his spine, the flash of metal beneath his lapel, the bloodstained card tucked behind his ear. The Ace of Spades. The one with the fingerprint. And then came Joy and Fiero. The ballroom didn’t go quiet. But the energy changed—a heat that rippled through velvet and crystal, through champagne and silk. A weight fell.

he confessed, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. As the weight of the revelation settled, Lisa grappled with the magnitude of her unexpected involvement in a dangerous game. The room seemed to close in around them, and the reality of their intertwined fates hung heavy in the air. Ace, now standing closer to Lisa, reached out to gently cup her face, his touch both comforting and unsettling. "I didn't choose this path, Lisa. It chose me," he whispered, searching her eyes for understanding. Lisa, conflicted emotions swirling within her, couldn't deny the sincerity in Ace's words. The gravity of the situation pressed upon her, and she found herself considering the unimaginable proposal.

Three former friends known as three flames that burnt so bright that they could shine even the darkest places. Forbidden love is not something knew to all of them because they've all disobeyed so many rules to get their happiness but instead they got tradegy. To see what exactly is going on they must go back to the past. Where they were three different people from what they actually are now. *** Prologue The night was young, full of endless opportunities of where it could lead Sire. He wished nothing more than to feel the gentle breeze of the wind blow his hair into a mess his mother would obviously scold him for when he got back home.

"This one's Summer. I raised him since he was little. He's a German Shepherd. Handsome, right?" "Yeah," Nathaniel said. "Very handsome." "The rest I picked up over time," Hayley continued. "This is Ace, Spade, Diamond, King, Club, Jack, Flush, and Straight." Nathaniel paused. "Sounds fun." "These here are East, South, West, North, Heart, and Joker," Hayley went on. "And that last one's called Front Legs. I was going to name him Flop, but when I found him, his back legs were almost chewed off by zombies. Front Legs just felt more accurate."

They are breathtaking. Finally, the taxi arrives and I thank them both for waiting for me. As I reach out to open the door Max does as well. As soon as his hand is over mine intense sparks shoot up my arm and I gasp. He immediately pulls his hand away from me as his eyes go wide. “Sorry he mutters”. What the hell was that, did he just shock me? I look back at him as I pull the door open as soon as our eyes meet I feel a flutter deep down in my core and my heart rate picks up again. It’s not fear doing it this time though, it’s desire.

It landed. He stumbled back a step, grunting. Not in pain—more like disbelief. His head tilted slightly. His expression darkened. “No more games.” His hand closed around her throat like a clamp, cold and sure, pressing until the edges of her vision began to dim. “Apologize,” he said, breath laced with smoke, voice a deadly whisper. Avery’s glare burned brighter. She gasped, teeth gritted, and growled through clenched teeth: “Apologize... my foot, Mr. Dickface.”