Kane Martin Novels & Stories

Wouldn’t you think? " Hey stop running" Charlotte yelled at Katie and Nick " you know that they aren't going to listen when Creed is making ice cream cones in the kitchen." I laughed taking her into my arms. We got our own house but the kids still like spending time here. Creed and his mate Martha have taken over the pack house room for now, just until the baby is born. It's easier for them because she's right by the infirmary and I swear she's going to pop at any moment now.

the boy said, stuttering a little, as though it was the first time he'd talked to a girl in a long time. "Nice to meet you, Gary. So, you like comic books?" Katherine asked offhandedly. Gary looked at her oddly. Katherine made a gesture towards the black T-shirt now open to view because the buttons of his blue polo shirt were ripped off. The T-shirt had white lettering that read: There's no rehab for comic book junkies. Gary shuffled his feet, plainly embarrassed. "I am a bit of a Marvel brat myself. X-men and such," Katherine said with an easy smile as the world watched in surprise.

Keegan would literally remember every single argument. "Mr. Kane." "Stop talking. Go to sleep if you're tired."

Because they are only had to sin against me, I should be the only one to charge them. Martin sighed and approached his friends, introducing them to me. “This is Klein,” he said, pointing to the tall man who was always smiling. He waved at me, so I smiled back. “This is Rio,” said Martin, pointing to a man who resembled Arielle. Rio said, “Her twin,” and I nodded because I knew. Martin approached Doc Cole, who gripped his shoulder firmly, and I noticed Doc’s grimace. “This is Cole,” I smiled. “You know him, right?” I nodded again and thanked Doc Cole for his help.

Martin, the host of the cruise and one of his oldest friends in the business. The man’s laugh was booming, his tan deep, his shirt half-open. He looked like someone who’d retired from stress ten years ago and never looked back. “Killian Grafton,” Martin said, swirling his drink, “the man who once canceled a vacation because of a board meeting. I thought I’d have to drag you on this ship myself.” Killian smirked faintly. “You almost did.” “And yet, here you are,” Martin said, leaning forward. “On a cruise. With a woman. And four kids. I have to say, that’s a picture I never thought I’d see.”

KATRINA I thought Kane was a hotcake, which he is, but Cannon was on fire. He was dressed in a business suit, that made him appear like a CEO, and dark shades hung from his neck. He was a few inches than six foot and had walnut brown hair with cerulean blue eyes.

Kane. Tall. Lean. Black coat open over a dark shirt, sleeves rolled to show forearms corded with muscle and ink—more serpents, twisting up toward his elbows. Hair black and messy, falling over eyes so pale they looked almost silver in the morning light. He didn’t smile. He didn’t need to. The air around him felt colder, heavier, like gravity bent toward him. Dario spoke first. Voice calm. Professional. “Kane wanted to deliver the congratulations in person.”

puna ni Katarina sa kanya. "Si Martin," mahinang usal niya. "Bakit?" puno ng pag-aalalang tanong ni Kat. "Si Martin ang isa sa mga judges. Sa tingin mo nakilala kaya niya ako?" sabi niya habang pinipilipit ang mga daliri. Halata ang nerbiyos sa kanyang mukha. "Hindi siguro. Naka-mask ka eh, Princess Kitana," nang-aasar ang tono ni Kat.

He paused for a minute then sighed. “Dillion was going through the files we brought from Mendoza’s compound and found out who his dealer is.” I waited for him to tell me. “Well, who the fuck is it?” He took a deep breath. “It is Joseph King, the leader of the Suicide Kings.” I inhaled deeply and then let it out slowly. The Suicide Kings were the only gang in New York that was bigger than ours. Joseph King was a badass and I realized that I may have just made a deal with the devil.

And at the center of it all, undefeated, untouchable, was Kane Shawn. Standing at 6'5", with a body carved from years of brutal discipline, he was a titan among men. His blonde curls were damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead as he rolled his shoulders, his enormous arms flexing with ease. His skin glistened under the dim lights, his six-pack rippling with every movement. But it was his face that truly set him apart a masterpiece of sharp lines and perfect imperfections. His light blue eyes had the power to pierce through a man's soul, making even the most confident opponents hesitate. His lips, full and sinful, often twisted into a smirk that made women weak and men envious.