Money Boog Tattoo Novels & Stories

Beggars have a slogan of staying out of shit unless… “Stand back and watch,” I say, my voice firm. I’m not giving up. Hera’s in a hospital bed because of this mess, and I’m not walking away empty-handed. I turn back to the woman, pulling a few crumpled dollars from my pocket. Her eyes lock on the money, and I see a flicker of interest. “Help me out,” I say, holding the bills just out of reach. “This guy is trouble. Have you seen him around here? Or anyone with a tattoo like this?” I scroll to the next picture of the Shadow Riders logo of a skull with crossed daggers.

She followed his steps to his desk and sat in front of him, Hilaire signaled her to speak, she made a huge effort to keep her calm and recite what she had to tell him. “Dad, I don't want this driver anymore.” “I knew it, here we go again.” Her father knew how she was, she was surely going to invent something like every time she hates an employee and desires his departure. “Dad, he touched me. I didn't want to go up with him and he required me to do it.” “Where were you?” “At Ganaëlsy.” She lied because she didn't want her father to know that she wanted to get a tattoo.

I sighed and looked down at the dead rogues around me. Having her come with us was a bad idea. A rustle came from behind. Maurice limped out of the woods, blood drying on his arm. He looked at the bodies and then at me. “They’re rogues,” he said. “Probably wanted to loot us but they have this weird looking tattoo he said showing me the straight line they all had in their necks” I nodded, distracted but all I could think about was Athena and how angry she was.

“Boss Lady had shared pictures of the tattoo that you did on her and a few of your designs. We displayed them, and those are the ones who are interested in talking to you about getting some ink done. No pressure if you don’t want to do it, but there you go just in case. By the way, I know that there’s at least fifteen of us workers who would definitely be interested in your designs.” Maddox looked at the paper before looking at me. There was such raw emotion there that it choked me up. He gripped my chin and drew me into a sweet kiss, one of promise and love. There were cheers around us when we pulled a part. Heat warmed my cheeks, making him chuckle softly. ‘You blush so fiercely for someon

"It's fine, Chloe; these assholes think they will get away with hurting you, but that is not going to happen." A friend of Joey's noticed something the other guys had not known, the guy with the gun had a dollar sign tattooed on his neck. Tom, "let it go;" Jimmy had known that Joey came from a rural area with gangsters. Joey's upbringing was not easy, having a drug addict of a father. The tattoo was more than just an ordinary tattoo; it was a rank, "these guys have been in and out of prison, and the dollar sign was a ranking of twenty-six.

He remained still and often engaged in a small chat with me to show that he was all right for I was a bit agitated as I scanned the way his skin bruised and bled. When she wipes away the excess drops of his blood in completion I examine the tattoo over his red puffed skin. It consists of a total of four elements beginning with a wide circle and inside the circle are two equally beautiful but distinct flowers and one crown. Perhaps from an outsider's view, it would seem like a feminine design one that females would prefer and definitely not Phobos. But he said there was a meaning behind it and I am utterly interested. "Thank you. I shall return in a few days to get the rest finished."

My number 22 tattoo burned searingly. "Ruby, how'd you like an offer to work here?"

A tattoo covers one of his pecs, moving up to his shoulder and down part of his arm. His arms are just as huge as the rest of him—sculpted biceps and forearms and… good Lord, this guy looks like he should be felling trees or something. My eyes don’t stay on his arms, though—they go right back to the bongos. And the fact that those bongos are covering his… bongos. “My package?” he asks. “What?! I’m not looking at your package,” I protest. My voice seems to come out at least an octave higher than it is. I practically squeak like a mouse.

That night, Henry finally let go of all restraint. The room lay in shadow, and he pressed me against the floor-to-ceiling window, the lights of Riverton flickering like stars beyond the glass. “Claire…” “Yes?” “I want to get another tattoo.” “Where?” He gripped my hand and pressed it to his lower back, mirroring the spot that corresponded to mine. There, with each of his breaths, a faint outline of a feral totem emerged. “I want to tattoo your image. I want to carve you into my bones forever.”

** ********** Trevor’s Room Trevor had just stepped out of the shower. True to his habit, he always showered after exercising. A towel was wrapped loosely around his waist while droplets of water still ran down from his wet hair. He walked toward his closet— But suddenly the door burst open. Noah and Rolex rushed inside. Just in time. “There!” Rolex pointed immediately, completely forgetting about privacy. His finger aimed at the tattoo on Trevor’s back. The LC tattoo. “That’s the exact same tattoo Sofia has!” Rolex exclaimed, his eyes wide like a teenager trying to prove a point.