Rick Renner Books Novels & Stories

The ancient wooden doors stood partially open when I arrived. That immediately felt wrong. Scholar Renn hated interruptions. He locked those doors obsessively. I pushed them open. The hinges groaned. Thousands of books surrounded me. Towering shelves disappeared into darkness. Dust floated through shafts of pale light. The room appeared empty. Then I heard a voice. "I was wondering when someone would come." I turned. Renn sat at a table surrounded by open manuscripts. He looked exactly as always. Ancient. Frail. Calm.

But Lena continued curiously exploring, fully desiring to become a part of Renz's private world, at least for a few moments. Lena had already seen the four libraries of Schloss Wolfenbarger, but Lena thought that Renz's lounge could have been considered a small fifth. There were several tall bookcases, neatly stacked with large volumes and ledgers. Lena briefly scanned the titles, surprised by the names that had been deemed worthy of Renz's private collection. There were several that she knew well with from the hours she stole reading at Sterling Manor, such as Shakespeare and Dante, and illuminated prints of William Blake. There were other names that Lena recognized, but wasn't familiar wit

"And whoever Renner reported to before Frankfurt." "Renner is in custody," I said. "He was in custody," Nora said. "He was processed and released four days ago. Oversight censure, same as Hale's officers. No criminal charges because the relay was technically external infrastructure." I stared at the kitchen wall. "Renner is out," I said. Karl was already on his phone. "The relay data he collected," I said to Nora. "Before Decker destroyed the server — how much of it covered your research archive's location and content."

"If I'm the void and I want to consume everything physical, the thing I'm most afraid of is that." Silence. Ren looked at the map. At the northern dark she'd described. "Elena's notes mentioned this. The possibility of a confrontation when the full mark returned." He reached into his jacket and produced something. A small book, hand-bound, worn through at the corners. "She left this for you specifically. She made my grandmother hold it until—" He stopped. "Until someone came to the river who had shadows." He held it out. Aria looked at it. Took it.

, Rachel grunts. I want to say "Why", but I don't want to risk sounding like a creep so I whatever her and go back to going through the rest of the shelf even though I'd done that a thousand times before. I drag my hands across the spines of the books; Kara Taylor's Prep School Confidential, Carol Wyer's The Secret Admirer, and Megan Goldin's The Night Swim. You would be subtle to call Rachel a crime-thriller addict - she's more of a crime freak. The Night Swim. There is a piece of paper sticking out of it. I pull it out of the book. Something is scribbled across it in Rachel's handwriting.

"But accurate." Renn was leaning against my arm. He had brought a book with him — not the founding charter this time, a picture book from the lower shelf that he had been working through page by page over the past two weeks. He opened it to his current page and looked at the picture there. "What is it?" I said. He pointed at the picture. "A bird," I said. He made the assessment sound. Apparently my identification was satisfactory. He turned to the next page. I looked at the November garden through the sitting room window.

Rene sat down across from his father, the thick folders in front of him, hesitating to reach for it. Then he glanced at Rome, who was casually sipping his champagne, a calculated calm in his demeanor. Finally, Rene exhaled and reached for the first folder, flipping it open. Inside were pages of detailed reports, photos, and dossiers, all about a gang he didn't recognize. "The Marran Group." He mumbled, staring hard at the faces and dead eyes in the photos.

The large gang of riders and drivers they had brought with them filled the small street and once the engines had been cut, a deafening silence filled the sticky air. “Gabriel Grayson, Alpha of the infamous renegades, it’s good to see you again.” Dynamite Al dismounts from his bike, the short chubby half-wolf grins and greets me. “Your boys tell me you got some trouble. I didn’t believe it at first because you are the trouble.”

Too willing to create evidence. I read this three times. I put the device down on the kitchen table and I sit with what the summary has given me. Renner is not the opportunist who saw Hayden's fall and moved into the vacuum. Renner is the original model, the version that Hayden decided was too dangerous to keep, the one who was removed because he created evidence and moved too fast. He has been outside the organization for twenty years building patience and learning the one lesson Hayden's removal taught him: do not be visible.

Book 3 is another steamy Mafia romance crime saga featuring hardcore, taboo romance, sex with my bodyguard, A Possessive Mafia Romance etc full Book starts here 👇 I know what those hands have done— and it’s not pretty. Except maybe I like it a little ugly. A little twisted. A little broken. Ren’s the kind of man I’ve spent my life running away from: big, gorgeous, arrogant. He thinks the world revolves around his biceps. When I’m nearly killed in a drive-by shooting gone wrong, my father packs me up and ships me off to Philly, “for my protection,” whatever that means.