Paw Patrol Marshall Scared Novels & Stories

It's hard to resist a bad boy who's a good man. ***** Tessa Hawthorne is a young and intelligent wolf girl, from the Moon Stone Pack. However, her intelligence is quite questionable when it comes down to Ronan Pierce. Ronan is a playboy of the school who keeps on making Tessa’s life hell by bullying her in the worst way possible. No one can raise their voice against him since he is the son of the most powerful Alpha of the Dark Moon Pack. What will happen when Tessa would raise her voice against him? She is done tolerating his victimization and now she decides that she will fight back even if she can’t win against him. The lifted spirit of Tessa makes Ronan interested in her even more

My husband and my best friend had seemingly vanished during my grandfather-in-law's funeral. As I searched for them, I passed Shawn Whitaker's coffin and suddenly saw a live chat window flash into view: [Oh goodie, we're finally dealing with a male lead with a 200 IQ! He dragged Best Girl straight into the coffin before that bitch could find out!] [Aww, he's comforting Best Girl because she's scared of the dark! Aaaaahhhhh!] [That annoying extra is still outside looking for Vincent. She's so dumb, oh my god. I'm right here cheering for Best Boy to cheat with Best Girl because I swear that bitch exists just to get in their way!] Fury surged through me. I moved to flip the coffin lid open,

"Fine, I’ll do it, but only on the condition that my grandma gets proper treatment. If you don’t hold your end of the bargain,” Sandra said as her tone quieted down before adding, “even the stars won’t save you from me.” ******* He wanted a bride, and unknown to him, he’d married the wrong bride. Aztec Marshall was cruel, and toxic for a powerful alpha, but that was how he reigned. Many who knew him were too scared to even look in his direction. Women who loved his dangerous aura wanted him, but all he needed was for his pack to be strong. She was a simple human, with simple desires, though her greatest challenge was to finance her sickling grandma, the only family that truly cared abou

I bought an apartment during a market slump, $30,000 below what others had paid for the same layout. I had just finished moving in when Linda Carver, the neighbor across the hall, stormed over. "Same unit, same building, yet you paid $30,000 less than we did. You need to make up the difference!" I froze for a second. She took it as fear and raised her voice, "If you had the guts to snap it up cheap, you’d better be ready to compensate the rest of us. Otherwise, don’t expect to live here in peace." I looked at her, so self-righteous it was almost absurd, and I laughed. I had just been discharged from a psychiatric hospital. Threaten me? If anyone wasn’t going to live in peace, it was h

Celia Johnson, my boss's sister-in-law, joined the company as the finance director and announced that all reimbursements must strictly follow the standards. I spent an entire week running around for the company and finally closed a five-hundred-thousand-dollar deal. Because the client had used two extra packs of paper towels, the per-person amount for their meal ended up eight dollars over the limit. Celia folded her arms, glanced at the reimbursement form on my desk, and sneered. "Five hundred and eight dollars?" "Yes. Last night at The Peak Restaurant, where we closed Richard's deal. Zack was there too," I explained patiently. "Eight dollars over the per-person limit. Not reimbursable,

My mother, Eleanor Thorne, dropped out of school at a young age to work, single-handedly raising my uncle, Logan Thorne, all on her own. Because of that bond, right before she passed away from a severe illness, she tightly held Logan’s hand and entrusted me to his care, begging him to look after me. With bloodshot eyes, Uncle Logan swore right beside her hospital bed that he would never let a single soul lay a finger on me for the rest of his life. When I was seven years old, my biological father, Richard Jennings, was preparing to remarry, and he muttered a cruel comment under his breath, calling me a piece of useless baggage. The next second, Logan smashed a glass bottle right over his

The HR manager slid a severance agreement across the table and said coldly, "You're fired." I froze. "Why?" Just one week ago, my boss had praised me in the company meeting and called me one of the team's most valuable people. The HR manager shrugged. "Ms. Lyttle, you're already 35. You don't have the energy of younger employees anymore, and you're not what you used to be. You no longer fit the company's future." I joined this company when I was 29. Over the past six years, I wrote countless lines of code and worked through more sleepless nights than I could remember. Every time the company faced a major system failure, I led the emergency response and saved it from catastrophic losses. And

"Lucas Marshall, Do you take Alina Martin for your lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" Priest asked. "Yes, I do." Lucas said. "Alina Martin, do you take Lucas Marshall for your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" Priest asked me. "No, I don't. " I said.

It's my fifth year working at my relative's factory after giving up a high-paying job. I'm in the middle of helping the administrative staff clear out the printer when I accidentally catch a glimpse of the new clerk's payslip—Base Salary: 6,500 dollars. I freeze right on the spot. Five years ago, I've turned down two high-paying offers and joined Dad's younger brother, Liam Graham's, factory. Back then, he patted me on the shoulder and said, "We're family. I'll never shortchange you." I believe him. However, it's been five years, and my salary is still the same five grand I started with. Every single time I ask for a raise, Uncle Liam cries poverty, claiming that the factory isn't doi

After half a month of nonstop overtime, I secured a contract worth over ten million, pulling the company back from the brink of collapse. My boss, Richard Gray, was overjoyed. At the celebration party, he called me the pillar of the company and announced that he would reward me with a bonus. However, when the end of the month came, and I opened my payslip, I froze. Negative 250 dollars. A negative commission? I actually owed the company 250 dollars? I immediately called the finance department, asking if there was a mistake on my payslip. They replied, "No mistake. This is the cost calculation formula that Mr. Gray personally instructed us to use. He said you'd understand once you saw i