Reading Rock Books Novels & Stories

HUNTER Our trip to New York was less tiring than I thought, I can even say that it was a riveting trip, Maggie sleeps cuddle up in my arms while I read ‘Archer’s Voice’ by Mia Sheridan, with the cover covered in black , of course! After all, I’m tired of my friends making fun of me because I’m a MMA fighter who likes to read novels. We get to Park Central Hotel and Gary check us in, I’m so happy for Maggie being here with me I’m barely able to hide my happiness. Gary looks at us hugging in the elevator and throws a bucket of cold water on me by saying:

“Fucking beautiful. I swear Oklahoma has the prettiest girls.” “Excuse me? Who do you think you’re talking to?” I whip around to face the newest foul mouth. A breath catches in my throat at the sight of the tattooed rock god. A small smile curves his pierced lip. “Well, sweetness, I’m sure not talking about Gabe over there. Who let you on the bus?” “That’s what I fucking asked her.” “Never mind that caveman.” The rock god extends his hand towards me. “I’m Raze.”

"So? Just cut the crap, woman. Are you going to waste my time talking nonsense all day?" "If possible, I want to waste my time talking trash all my life to you. As long as you get to hear my voice, sweetheart." Rock sighed, feeling helpless and fed up. Just listening to this woman gave him a migraine. "Alright, that's it. I have had enough, goodbye," "No, wait, wait, wait!!!!" Nora shouted, seeing that Rock was actually going to end the call. "What?" "I will be serious now." "Why did you ask me to read that book?"

Divided in half. She heard music start - the volume turned right up. Rock music, the bass of it shaking the glass in the windows, and distance distorting it into a crash of sound and drumbeats. Not a band she recognised, but then, she had never understood rock music. Oh, some of it was alright, but most of it was just… noisy. Owen had always liked it though. Whenever she borrowed his car, there was something in the cd player, and she knew he listened to it in his ear-pods when they ran together, same as she listened to opera.

I had just reached home when I heard a loud noise. Ivy Anderson was standing in the middle of a mess of porcelain shards, and she immediately teared up when she saw me. She then cried and threw herself into Liam White’s embrace. “I didn’t mean to drop it, but Olivia looked so angry. She looked like an old witch… “I got scared.” The item she dropped was the first present Liam had bought me. It was a porcelain doll that he personally crafted for me.

"Lord but what's the girl reading now?" Jenny sits in a chair by the fire, a coffee cup on the hearth one side of her, and next to it, an oddly coloured pebble, lined with rust and deep green stripes. "It's a book about geology. Mr Kalkowski lent it to me." She yells a protest as Brett snatches the book from her. "Let's have a look at it then." Mockery in his voice, "What have we here?" He flicks through pages then reads one of them, tracing the page with a forefinger, his lips moving silently.

Turning at the window, the man murmured venomously, “Ryan- The Ruthless Rockstar!… Soon I will end your fame… your eminence… and then your life…” ***********

No need for another awkward conversation. Once in my room, I hop back in bed and take my book off my nightstand and start reading. Currently, I'm reading the series called 'A Court of Thorns and Roses'.

Elodie Jax Turner, lead guitarist of Dionysus Rising: the biggest rock band in the world, loved me. I had heard the words, seen his lips form them, but it still didn’t quite compute in my head. Not even the ring he slipped into my palm seemed real. Even when I could see it nestling there — a thick, hammered band of silver. I couldn’t help myself, I kept staring down at it. If I’d had a hand free, I would have pinched myself.

She looks sweet as can be, but apparently she also has thorns. “Well, you didn’t give me your name before you decided to assault me with your eyes, so I just had to come up with a nickname. The color of your cheeks is as red as a rose, Rose.” She takes a step back, her one foot hitting a stack of books and causing it to topple over. The two of us look down at the array of books on the floor. “You’re Nash Pierce,” she muses. I take a few steps closer to her. “That is the name my parents gave me. Sometimes I answer to it.” “Cute,” she whispers, her thick eyebrows drawing together.