Regular Show Gun Novels & Stories

The Black Jackson (a dance god) gets shot by unknown gun men, An ex-convict mother covers up the crime of her only daughter, A young Brooklyn dancer faces the fears of her life as she gets locked up in the nightmares of a mysterious man in the mirror. The story revolves around a young Fatherless Arlington girl[Melina Sparks] who gets involve in the murder of a very important man and had to flee the United States for London while her mum Taylor Sparks, an ex-convict who gave birth to her daughter while in jail not wanting her to experience the same kind of life she went through covers up the crime for her only to get sentenced this time to a life in prison in place of her daughter. While in Merton, Melina not only falls in love with the man of her dreams but also comes across her biological Father for the first time, who opens up his wide arms and takes her in under his roof, but unlike her mum, He wanted her to return to her first love and passion, dancing.

I was just a student who couldn't afford tuition. For five years, I was also the secret lover of Mafia Don Dante Costello. Publicly, I was his personal art restorer. In private, he spent his nights making me his, holding me close and kissing me breathless. Then his family arranged his engagement. To Isabella Rossi. A princess from a rival family. At their engagement party, Isabella stabbed the back of my hand with a shard of broken glass. He made me apologize. To her. For making a scene. Fighting back tears, I bowed my head to Isabella. When Isabella lost a bet and had to play Russian Roulette—one bullet, six chambers—he made me take her place. My hand shook as I raised the gun to my head. "You saved my life once," I told him. "Now you can have it back." The moment I vanished from his world, the ruthless Mafia Don who had everything under control...completely lost his mind.

*His eyes scanned my bruised face, searching for answers. A careful, gentle hand caressed my cheek, intensifying the turmoil in his gaze. "He did this to you." It wasn't a question; it was a statement. But I couldn't find my voice, trapped in frozen silence. Fear gnawed at my skin as I stood amidst cold-blooded killers, surrounded by chaos and lifeless bodies. And as he held the gun, I knew more bodies would soon drop.* *** To everyone else, she was a nobody. A vessel for their perverse desires, a desperate pawn willing to fulfill their every whim. A nearsighted girl, finding solace only within the pages of her books, a portal to escape reality. But what they failed to grasp was that behind those innocent blue eyes lurked a devil, dependent on her happiness, hiding in the shadows and watching over her. And that devil was prepared to sacrifice everything for her. The scariest part? She had no clue. *"Why do you act like you're in love with me?" "Jesus, Lily," he growled, "I TATTOOED YOUR NAME ON MY FUCKING CHEST!"*

He told me he wouldn't call. I told him he would. I was right. He pushed me away. I pushed back. He put a gun in my nightstand and a penthouse key in my palm and told me he'd burn the whole city down before he let anyone touch me. "You're playing a dangerous game,Gaby." "I've been playing a dangerous game since the night I sat down at your table." He's a killer. I knew that from the start. The silver hair. The steady hands. The way his body moves before his brain has time to catch up. He's possessive. Ruthless. Cold as the blade he used to carry-until he's not. Until his fingers are in my hair and his mouth is on my throat and every rule he's ever made about keeping people out goes up in smoke. "I can't promise you a future." "Then promise me tonight."

At the Costa family's annual capo banquet, Marco Costa declared the family would extend protection to one woman only: Rosa Frost, his childhood sweetheart, newly divorced and newly returned to the family fold. One by one, the other women slipped away into the night with their money, their dignity, and fresh protectors already lined up. I, Viola Rossi, once his Donna, was severed from the Costa family entirely, with nowhere left to go. Twenty-one years prior, The System ripped me into this life with a brutal mandate: make one of four made men fall irrevocably in love with me, and I'd earn my way back to my real life with a healthy body. I failed. Every single one of them chose Rosa. The system's final mercy: die here, go home. I stood in a rotting Brooklyn dock warehouse, gun in hand, and closed my eyes. Right as darkness closed in, a raw, raging scream of my name tore through the silence, like the man shouting would burn the whole world apart to reach me.

I thought getting a new foster brother would be weird. I didn’t expect him to look like he walked off a Netflix show—blue eyes, tattoos, and the personality of a brick wall. My little brother’s obsessed with him. My parents act like he’s made of glass. Me? I think Carmelo’s hiding something. And I plan to find out what.

My best friend breaks down and accuses me of skimming family shipments, which cost us billions. Without hesitation, my fiance, Don Scarpa Falcone, points a gun at me. The bullet grazes my ear. He sends me to prison himself, then gets engaged to my best friend instead. Before I'm taken away, the family butler begs him, "You raised her yourself. She's your fiancee. You can't just ruin her life like this!" "Break the rules, and pay in blood," he says, polishing his gun. "As for her future, I'll decide that later." Five years later, I walk out of prison. The entire Falcone family is waiting at the gate with him, as if my freedom were a handout. "Looks like you've learned your lesson. It's time to return and get back to work. Don't do anything stupid again," he says. I ignore him and walk straight to the stretch Lincoln behind him. The door opens. Chris Corleone, the king of the Aurelian underworld, raises his glass to me. "Welcome back, partner."

~Did she cut her wedding gown off? What the heck! How could she turn it to that? ~ ~ What's going on with her? Why is she in sneakers? ~ ~What's she holding behind her ~ My ears listened to their whispers as I stood at the doorstep about to enter the hall. My gaze fell on my soon-to-be husband waiting for me by the alter and I chuckled remembering everything. Well, yes, I shortened my most beautiful wedding gown to a short gown that reaches above my knees and also on sneakers instead of heels, but then, this feeling is different; I've never felt this way my entire life. I'm supposed to be feeling rage boiling through my veins, anger, fury, accompanied with pains, and screams but that's not the case. Right now, I'm feeling super excited. Without delaying it any longer, I revealed the KRISS Vector gun I had been hiding behind me, and their facial expressions were joy-giving. I burst into laughter before releasing the fire on them. Wondering the kind of bride I am? I am Elora, the bride who went on a killing spree on her wedding day.

BLURB: Lust & Thrust: Erotic Short Collections Summary For Mature Readers Only: 18+, Explicit, Extremely Sensual and Obsessive. This book is for those who crave domination. For those who want to be owned, ruined, stripped down, and fucked into silence by men who don’t ask for permission. Inside these pages are short, filthy, addictive encounters—each more dangerous, more consuming, and more deliciously wicked than the last. It contains graphic sex and dangerous lust that borders on insanity. If you’re looking for soft romance or safe happily-ever-afters, walk away now. But if you want to drown in sin, surrender to obsession, and moan through every chapter, then read on. This is not like your regular erotic books. It’s darker. So I warn you now, ESCAPE while you still can!!! Run very fast while you still can. But if your cunt’s already clenching, if your mouth’s already dry from needing more, if your fingers are twitching toward your panties right now… then spread your thighs wider. Because once these stories touch you, you’ll never stop screaming for more.

My younger sister, Mindy Sampson, has a rare blood condition. She needs regular blood transfusions and a bone marrow transplant. My husband, Ian Huffman, and I are matches. My mother says we should draw lots. Whoever draws the short stick will become Mindy's blood donor. In the next five years, I am always the one who draws the short stick. Because of constant blood draws and bone marrow extractions, my body breaks down. Before I die, I stumble upon Ian holding Mindy and saying, "Cindy is so stupid. There are only short sticks in the container. Every time, we let her draw first. How could she ever get a long one? "She is going to die without ever knowing you are not sick at all. Once she dies and we get the insurance money, we can travel the world." When I open my eyes again, I am back in the fifth year after Mindy is diagnosed. I look at the container of sticks on the table and smile. Then, I look at Ian and say, "This time, you draw first."