Rick Riley Books Novels & Stories

Survival was more than just pulling a trigger; it meant knowing when to pull it, who to aim at, and making sure they never got back up. Traitors hid behind expensive suits and fake smiles, knives ready to strike my back. But they forgot one thing: I played by the rules until someone played me dirty. And when they did, the retribution I served was tenfold. No one played me for a fool and lived. The cigarette had burned down to the filter. I crushed it into the ashtray, grinding it until the ember died. The tray wobbled on the edge of the table. My hand shot out to steady it, but the booze in my system dulled my reflexes. It tipped over, shattering into a thousand glinting shards.

“What?!” “You heard me.” It must have been the combination of alcohol and shock, because I didn’t come back with anything obvious like But I love Derek! or Ryan’s just a friend! All I could get out was, “Why?!” “Cuz Ryan’s a great guy. And you’re both just uptight enough to make it work.” “What, Derek’s not a great guy?” Riley about choked with laughter mid-shot. After she’d snorted some whiskey out of her nose, she said, “Look, I like the guy, and he’s a hell of a lead singer – don’t you tell him that, I’ll totally fuckin’ deny it – but he’s kind of an asshole.”

RILEY He stood there in the living room, eyes flicking between me and Jax, suspicion carved deep into his face. Jax’s fingers were still pressed against my soaked, cum-filled pussy through my shorts, rubbing slow teasing circles like he didn’t give a single fuck that my brother was two feet away. “Riley,” Roland said again, voice low and dangerous. “Is he fucking you?” I swallowed hard. Jax’s middle finger pushed the fabric of my shorts and panties into my dripping hole, forcing a tiny whimper out of me.

I needed more time to figure out what was on. As I walked down the hallway, a guard rushed up to me, handing me an envelope. The handwriting on the front was familiar—Damien’s. I tore it open, remembering the letter I had written to him weeks ago. His response was short, but my heart dropped when I read it. I’m sorry it took so long for me to respond. There have been some vampire attacks, and something happened to Riley. She got sick unexpectedly, and despite our best efforts, we haven’t been able to help her.

Just: the direction is clear and the work is real and the people doing it are the right people and the next thing is already beginning. Always the next thing. Always beginning. Riley was quiet for most of the first hour of the drive. Not processing-quiet — something closer to the quiet she had the morning after the bond completion, the quality of someone who has arrived somewhere they had been walking toward for a long time and needed to stand in it before they started describing it. I let her stand in it. I drove. Grayson made his calls. The March afternoon moved past the windows. At the edge of the city she said: "Tell me something you did not expect."

Silly things, important things, everything in between. "I like getting your texts," Samuel said one evening. "Even the ones about Luna's diaper disasters?" "Especially those. They make me laugh." "You have a strange sense of humor." "Says the woman who texted me a photo of Isaac wearing a pot on his head." "That was objectively funny." "It really was." By fall, life felt stable again. Not perfect, never perfect, but solid. Riley's sixth novel came out in September. The third and final book in her Vineyard Pack Chronicles. It tied together all the storylines, giving readers the ending they'd been waiting for.

Anything to use against him. He locked his bedroom door. Interesting. Then he sat at his desk for a bit, scrolling on his laptop typing something with focused intensity. I waited patiently in the shadows. My cock was half-hard already just from the power trip of watching him unaware. Fuck, I loved this..having him in my sights vulnerable. Then things shifted. Riley stood up stretching, and walked to his closet. He pulled out a small locked box from the top shelf.. something I’d never seen before. My interest piqued. He opened it carefully glancing around even though he was alone.

Chained is its ostensible to the interlock of disquietude and self-slaughter which never do good in life and its phenomenon. As my hands gripped the railings of the top floor of the Wooden Tower, which the Zoners named, I felt every flow of air in my hair. Its blowing almost drove me away from the place where I am staying. "Cos." I turned to Riley when he called me. He is carrying two cups of coffee, still puffing some smoke. He is still wearing black nightclothes. His hair is also messy. He handed me the cup of coffee as he smiled which reaches his eyes. "I was looking for you everywhere. Thank goodness you're just here."

Who would have ever thought that Justin had it in him, who would have thought that he could be planning his revenge against me? Riley and I had to split and run into hiding because his brother Drake was combing the entire city, searching for us. When Riley told me he was going to have his revenge on Mia, I didn’t think that he would go that far, I thought he still had feelings for her. But I was so wrong, I watched him hurt and torture her like a fucking criminal, and I fucking loved it. I wished her dead, she is the only thing standing between me and my sexual attraction to Drake. I know that if she is out of the way, then Drake will be vulnerable and that would give me a chance to seduce h

It would be a good way to find out what Vivianne was up to, and how it involved Galen. “Do it,” she answered. “Let’s take this bitch down, once and for all.” ………… “I wish I could get drunk, so I could drown my sorrows in a bottle of whiskey. When I was a kid, I used to watch all those old Westerns, and that's what the cowboys did, when they had something to deal with. Do we have whiskey around the house?" Rachel gingerly moved closer to him on the couch, reaching for his hand. She tried to maintain a cool and calm demeanor, but inside, she was a mess. She couldn’t even begin to try and understand how he must be feeling, after listening to everything he’d told her.