Latest Vince Flynn Book Novels & Stories

It’s all about faith. °°° The story ends here. Thanks for reading. Follow me on my I*, and get to know about my next book which is about their kids. Also, read my another book Beta Nocholas. It's a werewolf romance. Thanks again :)

“I can get someone else to—” “I want to stretch my legs,” she said. “I’ll be right here. Please.” Please. Vince hesitated, then nodded. He thumbed a quick message into his phone, probably logging the errand for the record it would provide later if anything went wrong. “Two minutes,” he said. “Don’t move.” “I’m in a bookstore,” she said, and lifted the bag in her hand. “Where would I go.” It bought her exactly as long as it took for the elevator chime to ping on the second floor. Vince disappeared, his mass sliding between displays like a ship navigating ice floes. The store breathed, unaware.

Flanova Vincent intruded," I heard him formerly, a glass of cheap whiskey to himself, and telling you that any reversal was just the launch of coming back. He was noway about palm — about getting back up no matter what knocked him down." Lorne let out a moan," Sounds like great inspiring steed crap until a healthy cure of reality slaps you around. But if he really did feel that way, also he sure got tested oppressively.".

Vince tightened his grip on my throat, “This has always been and will always be about the human woman you and your brother place so much trust into. She is the key to everything.” Me? What the fuck had I done? I kept to myself. I made sure I didn’t say anything about the Vampire Nation to anyone. I even moved from my own apartment to the mansion, just so I didn’t inadvertently mention their existence to the world. “Me?” “Oh yes, you, Marlene Brennan.” Vince’s voice came close to my ear, growling with anger. “It’s always been about you and by the end of this, you’re going to wish you’d never set foot inside the Raynes’ mansion.”

“She’s still inside. The friends haven’t left. They’re nervous. Panicked.” Vince’s smile was thin, almost delicate. “Good. Let them stew. Fear is more useful than a bullet. It makes people stumble. It makes them betray themselves.” He took a sip of wine, savoring the taste. “When they can no longer bear it, they’ll make a mistake. And that, gentlemen, is when we’ll strike.” The men nodded, reassured by his calm. Vince was never hasty. That was why he was feared, not for rage, but for patience. A storm didn’t need to rush. It simply gathered until the world broke beneath it.

He's rough, fast, and aggressive, but I love the way he makes me feel. "You're so fucking tight, God," Vince groans in between pants and grunts. I look at him and smirk as my hands quickly reach for his hips. Something comes over me, and I have an irresistible urge to be the one on top. Maybe he can read my mind, or perhaps he's just good at guessing, but Vince slides his arm under my back and pulls me close to him. As he does, his member fills me thoroughly, and I nearly cry out in pleasure. Vince turns us around so that I'm on top of him. I watch him rest his weight on his elbows as he winks at me. "Do your worst, Hell Flame," amusement drips from his words, but I take them as a challenge.

“She will never be safe until I have eradicated Matthew and his likes from existence.” “Still you need to calm down and go about this with a level head…” Jessica started but Vince snorts made her pause. “I have been going about this with a level head since the beginning and look at where it got me. It almost got my mate killed. I am done with being levelheaded, I am done thinking like I am sane, and I am going to fight back with everything I have got.” “And how do you plan on doing that, you don’t even know anything about the organization.” Courtney asks from behind Vince.

“You stand where I put you. And you don’t move toward him. Ever.” Riley makes a small, incredulous sound. Ava keeps her tone level. “I was polite.” “You were visible,” Vince says. “That’s all it takes with a man like that. He sees a crack; he wedges himself in until something breaks.” “He’s standing thirty feet away and drinking bad champagne,” Riley mutters. “Not exactly wielding a sledgehammer.” Vince ignores her. “Do you understand me, Ava?” he asks. The old instinct rises—nod, appease, and stays small.