Jackson Douglas Novels & Stories

He raised his hand in front of him and bowed respectfully. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Let me introduce myself, I'm Andrew Jackson, director of The World group. Nice to meet you!"

Perfection, that is all I could say about my life with Jake now. Everything was too perfect as if...it wasn't even real like it was all just a dream that could be snatched away if I dared to blink an eye. Jake was everything I have ever dreamed of, he was too handsome with a body built for a Greek God but he worked for it day and night. Working out was like something werewolves had to do without even thinking about it, they just did it because it's in their nature. Jake cared for me, I couldn't complain really but ever since he found out he was born of royalty he has been...distracted.

The second stayed in his hand, untouched. Then the door opened. Jackson. Dressed in a black shirt rolled at the sleeves, no tie, wristwatch gleaming like a dagger's promise. He walked like he owned the air, like his name was printed in the dust of the walls. “You came,” Liam muttered. Jackson didn’t answer immediately. He moved close, brushing against Liam’s arm as he ordered a whiskey of his own. “Thought I made myself clear the last time we talked, babe.” “Liam,” he snapped.

A heavy, calloused fist collided with Calista’s frame, slamming her onto the wooden chair. A sharp groan escaped her lips as she collapsed forward. Standing above her, her father, Jake, watched with a twisted smirk as blood welled from her wounds. “I love hurting you, do you know that?” he murmured, his voice dripping with malice. “It satisfies me, gives me chills, reminds me of just how much strength I still have left in my system, even at my age.”

Jace says before Connor goes on to add “ The mother lived in a cabin on the outskirts of the pack and it seems she kept a low profile, she was hardly noted in any records, almost as if someone censored her existence.” “Now for the dad, it’s Council Alpha Raymond Oakley, former Alpha of Black Oak,” Jace says. “The one that was at Isla’s Luna ceremony?” Grayson asks, leaning forward in his chair, and looking at me, “Isla met him and dropped her glass remember? Think she knows him?”

I was about to answer her when the iron door creaked open. "Won't it be good to watch you lady's fight?" Jackson walked in, clothed in a black tight-fitting long-sleeved shirt over a black jean with a pair of black military boots to match. He had a mischievous lopsided grin, that crinkled the edges of his face. His hollow brown eyes cast a dark shadow over his face. Six foot tall and daring, he was the man right for his job. "What are you doing here, Jackson?" Iris shifted, shaking the mesh. "Did Gustav send you here?"

I continued to sit and observe long after I finished my coffee, which lived up to Dorothy’s hype by the way, and was just about to get up to leave when a guy, probably around my age, approached my table. “Hi.” He said, flashing me a set of dazzling white teeth as he gripped the back of the chair directly across from me. “Hello back” I said, almost like a question. “I’m sorry, I noticed you walking through town today, I work at the mechanics across the road.” He said smoothly, as he pointed to the workshop directly across from us “I just got off work and saw you still here, I had to come and introduce myself because there is never anyone new in town, especially anyone my age. I’m Jake” he hel

Trying to read if the sad expression was an act or reality. "Jackson was innocent."

A year after Catherine’s death... I stood in my bar watching the woman dancing in front of me. She was an attractive brunette with curves and a killer ass. I took a drink of my whiskey and kept my eyes on her. I was waiting for my second in command, Jacob, to meet me so we could discuss the problem that needed to be dealt with. The woman walked up to me and pushed her body against mine as she whispered in my ear. “Do you want to go have some fun sexy?” I pushed her off of me.

The only thing keeping Alexandro grounded was the relentless pursuit of truth. Before he set sail again to search the eastern waters, he knew he had to learn everything he could. He had a name now—Maeron. A shadow of myth. A phantom whispered of in fear. If he was going to tear through the ocean to retrieve his wife, he needed to know who, or what, he was up against.