Peter Doyle Novels & Stories

Go do you job and stop forcing my hands “Peter yelled. “How did you know about her? “The doctor was beyond surprised. “Because I have slept with her. Did you think that you are the only one? She screamed my name until morning. Didn’t you notice the hickey marks all over her body? Fuck off…. imbecile. Your taste in women is pathetic “ The doctor almost peed on his trousers. If this news gets out, he will surely lose his license and the hard works that he has achieved in all these years. Certainly, Peter wasn’t someone to be joked with.

“And your friends can’t go, well, maybe I’m better than nothing?” They both blinked, and to be perfectly honest, Peter’s feelings were starting to feel somewhat tender. His presence certainly wasn’t that undesirable, was it? He was working hard to present himself as A Good Man, wasn’t he? He held doors open for people and dropped his spare change into the hands of the homeless. He never stole the newspaper from his neighbor’s yard and he was particularly careful to thank somebody whenever they did something for him. Why, except for the killing people thing, he was about as good as they came. Why couldn’t they see that? Were they blind? Had they not grown to care for him at all? Bryony rubbed

"I gave the eulogy. How are you?” "I know. I'm sorry. I had to disappear." "Why?" We sat. Frank remained standing. Elowen noticed him. "Who's he?" "Frank Costello. He's... helping me." Elowen’s eyes widened. "Frank Costello?" "A Mafia boss, yes." "Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Meshack." Elowen looked between us. "What the hell is going on?" "Please I do need your help. It's about Dr. Chen."

A middle-aged man with brown hair politely nodded at me. "Alpha Aidan, I’m Peter, a private investigator hired by Luna Freya."

Just measured, intelligent praise. “Who's the author?” Lucas asked, suddenly wary. Daniel tapped again. “I finally got a picture. Took some digging.” He turned the screen around. Lucas’s jaw locked. It was Peter. Standing confidently beside a laptop, sleeves rolled, smile quiet but proud. “No,” Lucas said. “No way.” “It’s verified,” Daniel said. “Registered to a holding company Peter owns. He’s been writing anonymously. Until now.” Lucas leaned back slowly in his chair, stunned into silence.

Peter assured her. “Thanks, Peter. You're a lifesaver." Dee added before hanging up the receiver. Dee sat and waited for a whole five minutes before she heard Peter knocking on her office door. "Ms. Delaney, it's Peter." "You may enter," Dionnah said. Peter shoved his bald head inside first. His glasses sat crookedly on his elongated face. But don't be fooled by his nerdy look. He was a certified womanizer. He had bedded almost 90% of the female population at Delaney Designs. He had style, dressed in a crisp Prada suit that hugged his lean body nicely. He possessed a little class too, because he never spoke a word about any of his sexual encounters with anyone. If it wasn't for a few of the

Peter's pov I'm Peter Ace Carnell, a 16-year-old. I can say that I'm not that good at school, but I'm good at selling things, sports, boxing and, for my luck, I'm good at programming especially hacking. My life isn't easy. I live with my mother. I work in the Blackstone mafia as a stealer, so I steal cars, jewelry, money... Sometimes I distribute drugs and even sell them. Anyway, I was punished by the men in the mafia several times but not as harshly as the other kids working here. Once one of the leaders got really angry with me and hit me with the belt. I'm really scared of belts to the point that I don't wear one.

“Hello, Alex Cohen speaking…” Captain Pannell’s voice on the other end was very excited. “Mr. Cohen, you were right. Macy Falks was instructed by someone. I’ve found out through interrogation and other means that the person who secretly ordered Macy Falks to organize the bombing was Henry Doyle, the CEO of Quill City Media! I should have thought about this sooner. On top of hating you, Henry Doyle must also hold a grudge against Chief Judge Whitman, so he had the motive to strike at Chief Judge Whitman...”

He just realized that all along, he was like a walking body wrapped with a timebomb, and Stephanie loving him back was the one thing that could stop that bomb from detonating. Simon wondered why Peter Brooklyn had not mentioned this information to him. It seemed like all that money he gave to Peter, which he assumed Peter was now using for his vacation in the Hawaiian Islands with Tiffany, wasn't getting all of its actual value. Oh, Simon knew alright because he was a brilliant man. He knew Peter didn't give the money to charity. Peter might legit have the ability to read the stars and understand signs, but Peter was a con artist nonetheless. He had witnessed the extent of Peter's cunning wh

Seeing Peter's intentions, Brian narrowed his eyes: "So?" Peter: “I'm so sad, I can't compose. So you tell my boss I can't compose this month." … Over the next few days, Brian discovered that Peter was not at home. He called and asked, “Where are you?” On the other end of the line, Peter's voice was already drunk: "I'm drinking alcohol, don't disturb me." Then hang up the phone. Brian: “…” He would soon die for this artist, wanting the manuscript to kneel at his feet, begging him. Not sure why young girls like Peter Wayne.