Southern Man Novel Novels & Stories

The lights were dim, and a man walked in. He went straight for Harriet. "You must be Harriet. Oh, he was right… You are pretty." As he spoke, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. The bottle Harriet was holding clattered to the floor as she struggled weakly, her voice filled with fear. "What are you doing? Let go! Somebody, help!" The man quickly overpowered her, and with a few rough pulls, he lifted her by the waist and marched toward the bedroom. The door slammed shut with a loud bang.

Across from him was a middle-aged man with a dangerous presence. It was none other than the Southern Boss.

Lydia joined in and screeched, “Don’t think you can scare us just because you found someone to defend you, North! Just you wait!” The man’s expression remained neutral. “I’m Mr. South. If you two really want to know who I am, you can ask Eiger.” Horace’s insults suddenly got stuck in his throat. The man calmly looked at the store manager and said, “Get them out of here.” The manager nodded respectfully. “Of course, Mr. South.” North raised an eyebrow. Mr. South? If he could order the store manager around, did that mean he was a South? The man did not look at her until after Horace and Lydia got kicked out of the square. “They won’t be bothering you for some time.”

Alex gripped her pistol tighter, pointing it at the ground. "I ask for passage for my people," Jimmy said, his tone kind but firm. A man in the center stepped forward. He wore dark torn pants and a grey shirt. The shimmer on his skin sparkled in the small rays of sunlight poking through the buildings as the sun set. "Where did you come from?" His voice was deep and smoky as if dried from the sun. "Southwest. Just north of the Gulf." "Why did you leave?" Jimmy hesitated. The man read his face and held his hand up to stop him. "Alphas?"

He was walking ahead of us, gun laying on his shoulder. A huge door opened for us and when we reached the living room, another pack of armed men were all around. They were holding different kind of deadly weapons and they really looked dangerous. I couldn’t help myself, but to let out a sigh as my chest pound hard once more. “It’s a good job, I guess?” a man with big accessories said as he comfortably laid his back against the couch. “For you, boss.” He was a big guy. Tattoos were all over his arms and neck. He had a big rounds eyes, thick purplish lips, and big nose. He was too bulky enough to be fear with, so I felt it.

𝙎𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙤𝙣, 𝘽𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣. In a luxurious apartment sat a man on his couch stroking his penis and moaning profanity as he looked at a picture of a beautiful woman clamped in a red two piece bikini. "Fuck Maya. " He moan as he stroked faster and vigorously and within a few seconds he climaxed and ejaculated his semen all over the floor. He combed his hand through his hair, as he regulated his breath and his phone rang breaking his reverie. He frown at it and ignored the call as he stood up to the kitchen to clean up but this phone ringing again stopped him and he grunt annoyed at the disturbance.

So if this man could not even handle this matter, he was not qualified to sit on his throne as Southern King. Soon, it was two-thirty in the afternoon. The scorching sun was high up in the sky. This place was obviously much hotter than other places. Given the case, Clifford Hann and Don Quijote even took off their jackets and revealed their ripped bodies full of hideous scars and bullet marks.

He gave me a pat on the back and chuckled, “Oh, I remember those tired days and ravenous nights. You’ll get used to it. And if you need to throw the woman out of your bed when you are done, that’s fine, to get your rest. Did you take one home from the club?” I held back a cringe. The way those around me used and abused women made me sick. “No, it was actually quite the little rebel out past curfew, but then again, humans don’t have them in the South. I saw her on my way back and offered to walk her home. You know how one thing led to another...”