Front Man Novels & Stories

When she walked through the doors, already slightly out of breath from adrenaline, what she saw stopped her in her tracks and almost dropped her jaw wide open. Karli, her best friend, was standing beside and talking to a man in an Arlington Fire Department EMT uniform. It was none other than Tim Fresco, the man Sarah had left at the altar. And he hadn’t noticed her - yet. What… how… Sarah’s brain completely failed her, and for a moment she could only stare as she fought the overwhelming urge to run into his arms. Focus, Sarah. Karli needs you more than ever right now. Somehow, she managed to compose herself and slowly continued forward until she was standing by Karli’s side.

I make sure to listen carefully so as not to hear something similar again, as earlier. "Please forgive me for looking dazed Sir, the pain of losing my mother is still fresh in my mind, and I think it's been playing tricks on me lately. What were you saying to time ?" "Your mind isn't playing tricks on you boy. You heard what I meant. I'm your daddy, you're my son." Aded this man standing in front of me, whom I start to look at strangely. He looks so calm though that I think he might have a mental problem.

The man in the front leading the others is like no man I have ever seen. He must be in his early forties with a tall and lean build and black hair, salted with gray at his temples, swept back in a modern and effortless look. His sharp jawline and prominent cheekbones gives him an edge. An edge I would love to fall over. He is gorgeous, wearing a white suit with a black button up shirt beneath. It has to be hot wearing a suit on a warm day like this. But he looks unbothered by heat despite his recent run after a gunman. At least that’s what I guess he and his companions are returning from. “Who are you?” He growls at me when they stop in front of the injured man and me. “What happened to Greg

They were all told that Jason had been put in custody as a suspect. " Next," the hoarse voice rose from behind the painted wall. Rosaleen trudged towards the door and stepped into the office. " What's your name?" the man questioned, his husky voice getting to the deepest of her soul. His big arms stood out like they were ready to attack and his stern face gave away hostility, coldness. " Rosaleen Williams," she found her voice, finally defeating and suppressing the bubbles that tried to interfer with her clear, open answer.

he seems annoyed with my words I don't have anything more to say, just to writhe around in his arms fighting for freedom "Oh, we've got a beauty on our hands," he tells his friends as they approach surrounding me "Much more fun," one adds I elbow the guy behind me making him groan and let me go. I stomp on his foot before taking off and running as fast as I can hearing their thundering footsteps behind me. A hand wrapped around the back of my neck, pulling me to a halt, "Aww, I love when they fight," a guy sings sinisterly from behind me.

“Stand down, we're not alone, stay inside until I give the all clear.” “Boss.” I looked around and scanned the surroundings. “So you're alive I thought the Russian prick was lying. I can see clearly he wasn't.” A male six feet tall came walking towards us alone; he was either brave or stupid. “Let me introduce myself. Orian Miller. Better known as O.” I cranked my gun. “You made us lose our women.” “You did that all by yourself, Green. You should've been aware that it was a set up, but you were to dumb and drunk to realise that you'd been played. NowI'm here to get what belongs to me.”

By chance, Fate, or just the divine intervention of Zeus, I ended up with this incredible man who is hot, great in bed, and so damn sweet. I still don’t know how, in the thousands of men that live in NYC, after only finding assholes, I found such a keeper. And trust me, I know all about the assholes that live in NYC. Between the assholes I met in college, like Alden Zachery Greenwood the Fourth. Insert snort and eye roll here. And massive line-crossing creeps like Trevor Hildebrant. I am beyond lucky to have Clay.

He didn't know what the man bugging him deal was, and he could have shoved him if he was someone his size. Trevor contemplated what would happen if he told him off. Perhaps, he would receive a heavy blow on his cheeks, and then maybe he'd strangle him for talking back. "Yay or nay?" Trevor bit his tongue to stop himself from yelling, 'Bug off.' Because he was sure what he had thought of would happen to him. Luckily, another man, twice the size of the one in front of him, walked up to them. He had tattoos all over his body, and his face was set in a permanent grimace. His lips were twisted down like he had taken something bitter before coming to the bar and his eyes narrowed.

He did not reply to the old man's pleasantries. "Did you bring what I asked for?" Stev said to the man. It seems that the handsome man does not like wordy things so it takes a lot of time. The man folded his arms across his chest and leaned back on the chair he was currently sitting on. One of the man's legs is crossed on the other. Really like a boss. "I don't have time to have fun with you," Stev said in an even tone. As level as the wall, which becomes the barrier between Stevens' room and the outside.

Meanwhile most of the employees are women, "So Jeff can help you to stand up." "Maybe I can help." A deep, masculine voice emerged from the door, causing Vasha and Dan to turn together. At the door stood a very, very handsome man. Foreign blood clearly dominated his appearance, the man was tall, perfect with light golden brown hair, and a three-piece suit that was perfectly sewn, clinging tight and sexy to his body. Dan was the one who broke the ice, he screamed with joy and almost jumped up to the man. “Oh my goodness! Frances, have you come back from Paris? "