Mha Fan Art Novels & Stories

Should I make a Misha Pov though? comment here!

Hello everyone. It's been such a long time indeed. First of all I'd like to thank you again for making this book my biggest achievement this year, I really appreciate, Mafian hero is my first book and I've seen the progress and growth of it and honestly I'm not even going to lie I wish I could do a sequel or a part two of it. But I can't at the moment, so I have something else in store for you. So I'll be releasing some bonus chapters and hidden chapters or scenes we never really got to see in this book that we were really dying to know in all those places.

This is a bonus chapter for the Mafia Academy and I promise you want to read it. While I have you, I need to thank you for reading about these three amazing couples. If you continued this far, I'm sure they are as special to you as they are to me. For Mr. Xavier's complete story and how he found himself at Rochester, you’ll want to read Hotter Than Hell available on GoodNovel. Xavier is the head of the desert crime syndicate when Madison enters his world. One day, I plan to write about his children.

The cool afternoon breeze swept my curly hair into my face. A group of seniors were playing football nearby. I sat alone, headphones on my ears, staring at the face I had sketched in my sketchbook five years ago. A face I liked to stare at to fuel my anger and hatred for people.

We walked in silence until Sasha and Dmitry were out of sight. ‘How are you Misha?’ I attempted. ‘Good.’ He pulled out a cigarette, offering me one before lighting the one in his mouth. I held up my hand shaking my head. ‘Do you mind if I…?’ ‘No, I don’t mind’ He took a long drag of his cigarette before looking at me, I detected a hint of sadness in his eyes as he scanned my face. Although much taller than I was, Misha held a certain boyish look to him still. Tall and almost too skinny with gangly arms and legs, he was still very attractive. Full, dark eyebrows made his grey eyes stand out and the lashes that framed them were long and thick. He had a hint of a cleft chin on his closely shave

I could tell they were barely able to hold on, either from yelling at her pretentious wishes or running for the hill with no payment. The first floor of our home was totally transformed. Many dark-colored balloons in red, blue, and green were placed on the walls and near the doors. On them were painted dozens of characters from famous games like, League of Legends and World of Warcraft to Super Mario. Two-meter high cartoon figures of elves, dwarfs, archers, assassins, superheroes, and scary creatures were peaking from every corner with serious expressions on their faces.

Jaden glared at Mona Lisa feeling a little bit angry and disappointed that she refused to give him to his request. Mona Lisa focused on the movie ignoring Jayden's request. Jayden reached out Mona Lisa’s hand and grasped her hand trying to squeeze her hand while Mona Lisa tried to break off from his grip, both holding an intense eye contact.

The cut was black leather in color with the white stitched patches which included the gang's name itself in full view as it draped along the chair. The emblem of a vicious howling black wolf with white eyes and snarling teeth bordered around a bright white moon with the name HOWLER MC. written in stitch form around the visual. The bearded man glanced at his cut and continued to make his way toward the brightly lit bathroom as the sun had burst through the small window above the shower and illuminated the entire room causing him to wince from the view once he stepped inside while his eyes adjusted to his newly lit surroundings.

♡ Mia X * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was only my second exhibition, which Lance had insisted be in Nevada. I never allowed photos to be taken of me for security reasons. But one time, a lady was adamant about taking a photo with me because apparently, she was my biggest fan. On the other side, another girl had bought many of my paintings because of how mesmerized she was by them and had written me a letter, praising my skills and how much my paintings elated her mood–it showed her a ray of hope when she was swimming in darkness. When my assistant told me about her, I regretted not being able to meet my true fan. But it was Faith at that time? I never could have imagined such a coincidence. It was really fate, wasn't it?