Romans & histoires Names Of Sugar Rush Racers

Black Hole raced alongside the other competitors in the second pack, while Corona had already left them far behind. Up ahead, Corona executed a near-perfect U-turn drift on a sharp bend. Harvey's dark eyes widened in shock at this. He had watched Corona dominate the racetrack before. The original owner of Corona was incredibly low-key. All Harvey had ever known was that she went by the name Luna—and that she was a female racer. Beyond that, he had never been able to uncover any concrete details—no face, nor any personal background. Not even when he tried to investigate her.

The sun blazed against my skin. Engines roared like thunder in the distance, the scent of fuel and burnt rubber clinging to the summer air. The race drew out every thrill-seeker from town and beyond. Dust swirled in chaotic clouds as a car lined up at the starting strip, the hoods popped, decals gleaming under the harsh sun. Rocco was smoking hot, with his sleeves rolled up, cocky grin in place, his driver’s suit slung low on his hips like he was born to win. The crowd cheered as he stepped outside his cobalt-blue ride, waving to me like he was some movie star.

Jackson said as I left the door ajar. “Good luck, love,” I said, smiling softly. I closed the door and took a couple of steps back to give Jackson enough space to drive away. He started the engine, revving it and then driving to the starting line. We gathered near there, cheering. “The final race!” The MC yelled, earning screams and cheers from everyone. “Jack and Liam!” More cheers. “All bets have been closed. May the best Fast and Furious Street Racer win!!!!” People were clapping and screaming. A lot of the racers who had lost were still here, watching the game.

Noah. When I got to the racing arena, it was crowded and most of them were on their feets cheering on the racers. I saw my name on the billboard, my match was in five minutes with Ryder. Parking my car beside Ryder's I glanced to my side before stepping out. Ryder was sitting on his black McLaren 720S with a cigarette between his lips, his hands were on the butt of a skinny girl with big boobs. Ryder was a teenager like me, he was a spoiled rich kid that raced for fun. But while other rich kids were weak and avoided trouble. Ryder was the complete opposite, his father was a Drug Lord, a friend of Drew's. He got into deeper shits than Drew did and oftentimes Ryder joined him.

I was already sixteen and had my licence so I thought why not give it a shot and participated in the next race with the car the stranger provided me with and won pretty easily. The person who had challenged me turned out to be the one who owned and hosted the races and proposed that I become a participant in the upcoming races. He also promised to give me eighty percent of the money that he profited which was a really attractive offer and the bonus was that he didn’t care or ask about my identity. I didn’t really have any money of my own so I had agreed and pretty soon I became a well known racer by the name of Ace. I never lost a single game and earned quite a lot which I saved in a separat

The car race was the event of the night, drawing in crowds of all kinds—teenagers looking for a thrill, adults eager for a distraction, and everyone in between. Among the clamour, a red sports car roared into view, its engine's purr commanding attention. As it approached, the crowd erupted in cheers, chanting, "Nick! Nick! Nick!" The car, driven by Nick one of the event’s top competitors, Nick, glided to a stop at the starting line. Nick, a figure of cool confidence, shared a tense, competitive glance with his rival, Darko,(Ronny's man), who was equally determined to win.

My phone beeps again, it was the seventh text from Zorin this night, I pocketed my phone, ignoring him. Jade drags me in as the main race was about to start, weaving through bodies, the scent of fuel and sweat hanging thick in the air. “God, I missed this!” she yells over the noise. The crowd explodes, surging forward, chanting names. I don’t even know them, but I’m screaming too. Two racers came out of their cars, and my mouth almost dropped at their breathtaking faces. The first was a brunette, muscular with tattoos littered around his body. And the second was a slim, strawberry blonde handsome guy that I would pay to shove my tongue down his throat. I screamed louder as they approached th

“Tell them the truth. Tell them I’m not going anywhere, and I’m here to put Sid Paul and Mark Denning against the ropes.” “You got it, brother,” Rick said, wringing his hands together. I left and headed for the registration table. People saw me coming. There was only one other racer ahead of me. All the others had been cut from the herd over the last few races. The first one always had the biggest turnout, but now we were down to the top ten. After today, there would only be six of us left. Then the real battle would begin.

I said nonchalantly as I scratched Beretta's head. “According to my intel, Mikkinol is well known in the underground racing community. One of the best racers in the world. He’s set to race in 3 days in Columbia, and with Shrinka with us, we’ll have an opportunity to get closer to Mikkinol.” Marciano and my father thought for a moment, before they both nodded at me, showing approval of my plan.

I knew for a fact that if he were a shifter, he wouldn't dare breathe the same air as me—but because he was a human guest, he didn't understand much. “I see you don't want to answer me,” the racer trailed off, letting out a mocking laugh as he revved his engine again. “Tell you what, sweetie. Let’s make a wager. If I win the main circuit tonight...you have to tell me your name and give me your number.”