Marshall Lee Axe Guitar Novels & Stories

Akam grabbed the shotgun and twisted it, the metal screeching in protest before snapping in two. Axel stepped forward, his expression cold and unyielding. “You’ve been a thorn in my side for too long, Marshall.” Marshall stumbled back, his hands raised defensively. “Wait—listen. We can make a deal. I can—” “You’re out of time,” Axel growled. His claws extended, gleaming under the flickering light. Before Marshall could say another word, Axel moved with blinding speed, driving his hand through the man’s chest. Marshall gasped, his eyes wide with shock and pain as blood spilled from his lips.

The only thing left is the weakness she's still feeling. We came down from the truck with me grabbing my lucky axe and my backpack. I tucked my Beretta into my belt and got my axe ready in hand. I saw Austin arming himself with his Kimber Custom TLE II (EM) 1911 pistol and a blade he produced from his backpack. Clara took her katana from the back of the truck and used it to support herself as she walked .

Flint looks at the large man and nods. "Hey Axis, it's been a long time," he grins. "What happened to your fangs boy?" Axis growls eyeing Flint. "Parents filed them down, said Seelie doesn't have them," he shrugged and continued searching for a plug-in. He finds one behind the end table and plugs in his amp. He chuckles, plugs in his guitar, and starts playing music. His fingers flew across the strings, he could indeed shred and shred well. Keran's eyes lit up as he watched, impressed with his talent.

Mason says. “Damn right, she is. They will be forever haunted by the name Harper Marshall,” Theo grins proudly. “She will be their downfall. I just know it. We will get her back,” Axe says with fierce determination. Mason pulls me around to his front and I sit on his lap. He wraps his arms around me and rests his forehead against my shoulder with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I'm just so terrified of what is happening to her,” he says quietly. "We all are, but we have to stay focused on getting her back," I tell him, running my fingers through his dark hair.

“I probably wouldn’t be very good at that either, honey, but I’d be more than happy to give it a go.” Sed grinned. There’s Trey. He was wondering where he’d wandered off to. Trey continued, “Also, I sorta demolished my favorite guitar, so even if I could play, nothing would sound right.” “You have a spare,” Brian said into his microphone. “Hardly broke in.” Jake dashed across the stage and handed Trey his red and white Schecter. The roadie then picked up the pieces of the destroyed yellow and black.

He cracked open a beer and poured a bit in before he downed the rest himself. My eyes moved back to Melissa who still stared at the casket. Her tears had dried up, and now she looked downright angry. Knowing her, she didn't like what Axel had just done. Then I saw someone walk through the crowd with an acoustic guitar before they handed it to Axel. I didn't know Axel played. But when he turned and handed the guitar to Melissa, I really became confused. Out of all the years I had been with her, I never saw her with a guitar. As far as I was concerned, she wasn't that big of a fan of music.

“Seriously, Charlotte, do you think he’s hiding two girls in his guitar case?” She glared at him, and Axl waved with his fingers when North closed the door in her face and locked it. The click of the lock sounded louder than it should have. He took his guitar out and headed to his seat in front of the microphone. The familiar chair, the scuffed floor, the faint smell of dust and wood grounded him instantly. “I don’t know how you do it,” Axl said.

In fact, when I’d first met him, he had the full emo aesthetic, except with blonde hair because his parents wouldn’t let him dye it black. Marley’s music suited her gentle nature. Lots of quiet plucking of single acoustic guitars, breathy vocals, and slow tempos. The music seemed to wander and flourish between jazzy instrumentals, atmospheric low-fidelity tracks, and folk musicians of various kinds. It was the kind of music you might listen to after a long, noisy, chaotic day—which I imagined Marley experienced a lot since she taught young children. “This is nice,” I said. “What is? The drive or the music?”

Gustavo asked Marley with a smile on his face. “We could make him beg. He needs to pay for what he did to the Russians.” Marley replied. “It will be fun to see the head of the table on his knees.” Gustavo added and they all laughed which made all of them distracted. Axel used that opportunity to his advantage, he freed himself from the men holding him and rushed to Lily. He punched the guy holding her and took his gun from him. In a flash, he turned and shot Marley in the leg, he groaned and fell to the floor and they all got angrier and pointed the gun at them.

Before she can answer, Axle runs down the stairs in a pair of grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt, saving me from this conversation. I have to stop myself from drooling at how good he looks right now. “Alright mom, you don’t need to interrogate her. Come on, let’s go,” he says as he grabs my hand and drags me upstairs. When we go into his room and he closes the door, he says, “Sorry, about my mom.” “No, it’s fine. She seems nice.” “Sure, let’s go with that.” I look around the room and see a guitar and some sheet music in the corner by the large picture window. “Do you play?” I ask, pointing towards it.