Ghetto Cowboy Novels & Stories

I say hoping he'd offer me some kind of help. "The classification called her into cgl, no specification," Roman explains. "Oh wow, does that mean she's a kitten?" Beth asks. "No sweetie, it means she's into caregiver-little lifestyle," Adrian explains to her. "Nu, nu it means she's into Cute Giggly Little-kittens," Beth says with too much confidence making me giggle as well, I guess I'm into that one as well. "Come here little kitten, we need to work on your terminology again," he groans, I'm guessing this isn't the first time they go through this problem.

Their friendship was something unbreakable and anyone would find it weird, for, one had a wife and one was a Casanova who never wanted to settle down. “Well, I decided to let loose, so I went to the Caribbean…you should see the ladies there” Kamala said as he chuckled trying to get Austin’s reaction…but Austin only rolled his eyes. His friend is never going to settle down soon; with the way he chases every skirt that always opens when the wind blows!

And of the Bolgun men were even slowly gripped his axe handle by his hip as they all stare down the 2 thug. “…sorry about his stupid mouth, good sir….the boy is still young and so does his brains….worry not, good sir..this is Red Cow Gang, Black Market…where you got your product..is no one concerns…as long as you are willing to sell and not cause ruckus inside the market…you and your men are welcome here with our open hands…hehehe..”.(Bald Bob)

" Enrico ordered one of the men standing outside. "What if she calls the police, boss?" "Give it back immediately." Enrico screaming. For a moment, Livia felt inside one of the American police films directed by Francis Ford Coppola. One day, she watched The Godfather with her best friend, but never imagined that one day she would be stuck with the gangster Enrico's employee returned and gave the cell phone to the boss. "Open!" The mobster ordered the henchman. Livia retreated when Enrico entered the cage. He reached out and handed over his cell phone.

“We don’t need your kind here.” I let the whiskey settle on my tongue before I swallowed. For some reason, I wanted the heat to burn me and cause a sensation. “I heard differently. Word on the road says you’re short a wrench and long on busted bikes. I could be of help in the garage.” Luca’s knuckles whitened around the rag. “Word on the road is six years out of date.”

He leaned on his motor and began to read. Dear Gangster, Lucifer Cuenca, the name of the man who received and I am not ashamed. A lot is being stoned about me being a Psycho and Weirdong girl. I've been seeing you at school for a few years but you just talked to me too. I will never forget how we started talking.

Pissed mainly at that flutter in his stomach when she said she'd come back later—a feeling that wasn't fear, but rather, anticipation? "Shit," he grumbled into the pillow, burying his face in it. Serenity Creek had turned into a minefield, and he, Ethan Callahan, the toughest cowboy in the county, was stepping on all the bombs. And the nurse with the brown eyes was the biggest one.

I'm gonna ride 'til I can't no more I'm gonna take my horse to the old town road I'm gonna ride (Kio, Kio) 'til I can't no more I got the horses in the back Horse tack is attached Hat is matte black Got the boots that's black to match Riding on a horse, ha You can whip your Porsche I been in the valley You ain't been up off the porch, now Can't nobody tell me nothing You can't tell me nothing Can't nobody tell me nothing You can't tell me nothing Riding on a tractor Lean all in my bladder Cheated on my baby You can go and ask her My life is a movie Bull riding and boobies Cowboy hat from Gucci Wrangler on my booty Can't nobody tell me nothing You can't tell me nothing Can't nobody tell me no

KEEP YOUR STETSON ON MAGGIE Maggie woke up butt naked, hugging her pillow like it was—well, like what? A Jet carnival ride? Like the electric Jet bull ride at a country and western bar? No, she wasn’t going on any Jet ride at all. Last night, she’d come to the end of her rope and then stepped out on a cliff till that ran out while she hung out on the edge by her fingernails till her sanity was stretched beyond its limits. The Chicken Hawk, Cowboy Sundae wouldn’t melt. Though, he sure melted her to a pile of Maggie-Goo. She almost laughed—almost. It wasn’t funny though. This god like cowboy was fast becoming a burr in her butt. No…that wasn’t right. Burr in your saddle! She was always trying

He was smaller than I expected. Taller than myself, than most non-monster classed folks, but no troll or orc in terms of stature. Not some mammoth of building musculature or height. He was built, could see it in the thickness of his thighs but less so in an augmented or gym rat way. More in the way of how a farmhand is or an old-timey strongman—compact and dense, not clean and cut. The Midnight Cowboy was dressed like an extra off of a Hollywood western, like the rival that came during sundown to shoot the hero. All creased dark leather and long dusters. The only spot of color on him was the faded crimson of a bandana around his throat.