Novels About Nyc Novels & Stories

New York City. Queens. A Safehouse in a Basement Apartment. Two Weeks Later. Rainy Night. The neon sign of a laundromat flickered outside the grimy window. Inside, the room was small, smelling of takeout Chinese food and damp concrete. It was a far cry from the penthouses and palaces they were used to. Jack was polishing his sniper rifle on the kitchen table. He was wearing a "I Love NY" t-shirt that was two sizes too small. "I hate this city," Jack grumbled. "Too many people. No trees. And the rats here are bigger than the wolves in Alaska."

CHLOE'S POV (New York City) The morning sun was barely hitting the pavement of Manhattan, but I was already sitting cross-legged on my bed, the glowing screen of my phone illuminating the dark room. My eyes were furiously scanning the headlines of The Manhattan Ledger and three different high-society blogs, my jaw clenching tighter with every word I read.

of life after a mission in the extremes of weather and civilization. "I would love to travel like that." The young nurse sighed wistfully. "It's not a vacation," I replied. "I know. But, like, it would be so exciting!" You could always be a traveling nurse... I didn't have time to advise her about an alternative career path because someone else arrived. "Need some help here," a man called out. At first sight, I cringed. Again? More of these mobsters already? My head threatened to spin with the constant of violence around here. Talk about an extreme of civilization. With the rate of these Mafia men shooting up the city, they reduced New York to something like a dystopian hellscape.

Declan Queens after midnight feels alive in a different kind of way. Not polished like Manhattan. Not clean. This part of New York City breathes gasoline, money, adrenaline, and bad decisions. Exactly why I like it. Music pounds through the underground garage beneath the abandoned warehouse while crowds gather around rows of expensive sports cars and women dressed like temptation. Engines roar. People scream. Money changes hands. And for the first time in months, life almost feels normal again. Or at least as normal as life gets when your best friend is an Irish mafia king with a pregnant fiancée and enough enemies to start a small war.

This place is wonderful! And she was absolutely right. New York City was one of the most populous of the whole world, the flow of money, people and power was very visible there. I looked through the tinted glass of the car, several people of the most different aspects walking from one side to the other glued to their phones as if they lived in an alienated world from each other. Our apartment was located in Manhattan, the economic center of the city. Thanks to Vero's parents, who donated us a comfortable place to live, we'd be very well lodged.

New York 1921 The Brooklyn Bridge remains a torturous nightmare and Eloise would do anything to stay away from it. It has been six years since she left her hometown and moved to the big city. A city that she had heard so much about but still, she has yet to allow herself make sense of how the bridge could be standing. The first that she had heard of New York was from the eldest Wheatley son, Philip, who had gone to college there. She remembers how she listened to him talk about tall buildings, cigars and women in elaborate hats with such keen interest. She remembers how she and Mary Lou had spent the next few days pretending to be women in New York, fanciful and rich. However, when she got i

But since they weren't in a rush, Nickson drove leisurely and purposely gave Blakely a chance to reminisce. "You love New York like this is your hometown." "I think so. I thought I wouldn't feel anything here since I lived alone. But it turns out I have more memories than I ever realized.” “What do you think is the best part of New York?” “Grand Central Station and Central Park. They are the perfect place to have fun for a relatively low price.” Blakely burst out laughing. Her first laugh with Nickson after such excruciating agony. "Why do you think so?"

I'm not still used to being a New Yorker who finds it enjoyable to walk through a crowded street. "A New York City street is not like a street anywhere else in America. It is more frenetic, more teeming, more daunting, more commercial, more electric, more lawless, more infested, more sticky, more musical, more neon,'' said Emily Badger in one of her articles and I kind of agree with it. Clearly, because I am walking at a faster pace in this busy street because I'm in a hurry and then there are just so many strange insistent men who'll press my hand for fliers.

Thеrе’ѕ аlwауѕ a demand аnd nо rеаѕоn tо ѕhut dоwn ѕuсh a luсrаtіvе gаmе by сhоісе. New Yоrk іѕ one of the worst trаffісkіng jurіѕdісtіоnѕ in thе country. I hеаr thаt girls аѕ young as thіrtееn аrе bеіng sent tо wоrk. It makes mе ѕісk, аnd thе ѕсеnt оf Jеѕѕuр Lее floats іnѕіdіоuѕlу аt every turn.

“I won’t be coming to New York anytime soon after Nana’s concert tomorrow. The city looks grand on the outside, but it hides so much darkness inside. I don’t know how many dirty deeds are hidden behind the glory of Wall Street. Unfortunately, I don't have a good impression of this place.” Janus snickered before saying in a gloomy tone, “It’s hard to find a second place like New York. This place breeds so much evil, both in the glamorous Wall Street and the filthy slums. The bad guys are everywhere.” “The evils in the slums are straightforward. It’s just violence, shootings, poisoning, and human trafficking. The evils of Wall Street are far more formidable. Those successful men sitting on the