Mason Campbell Novel Novels & Stories

You deserve to be put to death! Hatred shined through Mason's eyes. Danielle was slashed across her back, causing blood to splatter everywhere. It happened so fast that no one expected it. Mason's face was covered in blood as he cackled non-stop. He'd gone mad. "I'm the only heir to the Campbells' fortune…" Love and familial ties were nothing in the face of money. After a life of scheming, Zachary was left with nothing. At his age, he couldn't find a new job. Every day, he collected trash outside the neighborhood, making him an eyesore.

everyone clapped and cheered while Alex just tilt his head and raised his glass. "We never have anything to say except enjoy yourself, get drunk" he dropped the mic and left the stage. Soft music could be heard. Alexander excused himself, according to Dexter's plan he left Laura alone standing in the middle of the hall, and the worst part of it was the alcohol was kicking. She walked to one of the little tables arranged in the room and took a seat, her head felt light as a feather. Mason Campbell a Mafia just like Alex, he is well known to be brutal and stern. He wants to be the Don of the underworld, he feels he deserves to be the Don and not Alex.

“I am unfamiliar with where you came from, but I know very well where you are now. You are nestled in the Catskill Mountains just west of Monticello, New York near a little spoken of town called Honeyville. Master Rowan had this castle built well over a century ago as a place to lay his head when he was in this country. It is a lovely home with 44 rooms, 32 stairwells, 18 fireplaces and 21 chimneys, all hewn from hand-mixed reinforced concrete in a blend of medieval, Byzantine, and Gothic styles. When you are feeling better, perhaps you would like a tour.” “I was in Philadelphia,” Jasper muttered with despair. “I belong in Philadelphia. My work is there. My home…” “Your home is now he

“Fine! Go ahead and speak. I'm all ears. But let me warn you Williams. It had better be something worthy of listening to.” I nodded. His wife didn't have a problem with me. I had saved her company and she had pledged me her life. But her husband was instead an obstacle. So I have to take things slow to win him back on my side and not only money could do the trick.” “You haven't heard that Mason is an orphan? He killed his parents himself and he went scot free. It was said that he had depression.” Mr Walker's eyes shot up. “How is that possible? He look so innocent! Where did you get this information from? And how true is it?”

A fire that is dying. Empty food cans. Bottles that were thrown away. Mason was the first to descend. The others trailed behind. When Grayson got to the ground, he froze. I immediately understood why. The camp was filled with a familiar smell. Whiskey. Frank. He had been present. Lately. Very recently. Mason took a close look around. Then he noticed something. A stone-carved symbol. Easy. Sharp. The moon is crescent. Not black. Not a hollow fang.

Private First Lieutenant Mason Campbell. She turns slightly, still buttoning her khaki shirt. And standing frozen in the doorway is Mason Campbell, the same one she ordered to run ten miles in full gear the day before. The same one who, the day before, publicly defended her honor when some idiot tried to talk trash about her and her body. Right now, though? He’s just… staring, not so differently from the one he had knocked a tooth out of the day before.

The first night that she met Mason, when she had been dragging a black garbage bag full of a dismembered pig after one of her experiments, had kick-started her story brain. He was the perfect anti-hero - dark and brooding and nocturnal. When she was safely back in her apartment, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the encounter and the story of the serial killer had simply appeared, fully formed, in her mind.

Campbell. One of the strongest warriors. Very Ruthless. Dangerous. Efficient and loyal to money, not morals and that was one of the reasons I chose him. He was feared even among the guards. Each time there's a war or battle anywhere, he's always in the front with his sword. Blood does not touch him again. He can kill thousands of people without shaking. He was used to blood. Yes. Campbell would do. Excitement rushed through me, sharp and energizing. My earlier irritation dissolved instantly, replaced by purpose. I turned on my heel and headed back towards my chamber, my pace quicker now, my thoughts already arranging themselves into a plan.

"Let's go and see everybody." "How do I look?" Matt asked him worriedly. "Is my hair okay?" "You look gorgeous babe," Mason replied in a mocking tone. Matt laughed and pinched his brother's shoulder as they stepped off of the path and onto the grass. Mason just nodded at the different people Matt was calling out greetings to along the way - he'd always been the more social of the two. They both liked it that way. Mason didn't see the point in talking if he didn't have to. Some people definitely found it rude but he didn't really care. He was here to prepare for his role as Alpha, not to make friends - making connections that could later be alliances were more his speed.

Mason felt anger swell inside him, hot and pulsing. He slipped the folder into his backpack and headed out. *********************************** That evening, the rain started—fine needles slicing through the sky as Mason stood outside the Lennox family’s small house on the edge of Rosedale. It took three knocks before the door creaked open. Mrs. Lennox looked older than her years, but her eyes were sharp. “You’re… Mason Allen?” He nodded. She let him in without a word. The inside was quiet. Photos lined the walls—happy moments frozen in time. Lisa as a baby. Lisa with braces. Lisa at prom.