Motley Crue Stories Novels & Stories

On a sharp curve, the vehicle lost control and plunged off the cliff. I heard every word, but none of it felt real. Dominic was careful. He feared that mountain road more than anyone. How could he overload the motorcycle in the rain? How could Marcus and his three friends all be on it at the same time? I fell to the ground beside Dominic and cried until my throat burned. He would never again come home covered in dust and tell me he had earned enough for dinner. He would never again pat the children’s heads and promise them better days.

The above sentences are the thoughts of the author about what he thinks, but it is my duty to tell all the things he has in his mind. The space science and the beginning of the human era, why I always talk about the past, why I'm interested in the dead stories, why I tell a tale of another time, why I don't like the present and, also why I'm not narrating about those dumbasses who were about to close the mysterious case of random killing by an unidentified criminal (creature)? You might have so many questions and confusions about the fact that I puzzle a simple story in what we call a Riddle…? But you can still believe in me that I'll give you a gift tomorrow.

He got calls from producers and editors at least twice a week. Everyone wanted to use the motel to film the ten year reunion of the only surviving victims of the 'motel muderers' as the news had taken to calling them. That is how 'murder motel' had come about and stuck. They wanted Lacey, Andy and the kids show up and talk about what happened. They were hoping that Lacey and Andy would blame Owen, with sparks flying on national television. Conflict made for higher ratings apparently.

The moment she stepped inside, every conversation died. The room was large, expensive looking, and dangerous. A long poker table dominated the center, piled with neat stacks of cash, chips, and a few scattered weapons ranging from handguns to automatic rifles all resting casually beside whiskey glasses. Five men sat around it, all in expensive Armani suits that did little to hide the hard edges of their bodies or the tattoos peeking from their collars and cuffs.

She pouted. "Mami, I don't care. All I know is I want you to pack our bags before I return." He snapped. "Someone is on his period" She whispered waving hand at the friendly receptionist. After packing the bags up, she opened the curtains. Looking at the busy street, she will miss taking tea while hussain is hugging her behind. She sighed softly, this is not how she wanted her vacation to end. She wanted to leave a memory behind and now all the memory she will leave behind, is that of her husband fighting his brother.