Terry Crews Novels & Stories

How was I ever going to take my rightful place as the king of the underworld in Cleveland with all these problems? † “Terry is here to see you, boss.” “Let him in.” When Terry Gonzalez came into the room moments later,he was smiling. From his smile, I expected good news. There had been enough bad news and bad luck already. “Good evening, boss.” “Sit down, Terry. I've been expecting you. Let's hope you come bearing good news.” He nodded, retrieving a camera from the bag that was slung over his shoulder.

She is so responsive, so sensual and well almost insatiable, really keeping me on my toes. Terry, the other male lead, and my friend, finally shows up, slumping down beside me. The director shoots him an annoyed glance. Terry leans in whispering. "Had to help get my assistant to the hospital. Poor thing got kicked by a cow, can you believe it ?" "Oh shit". I look at him, is he kidding ? I mean Terry has the weirdest kind of humor at times. But he looks serious. "Is she okay ? I mean a cow is kind of big".

It was time to bid farewell to their fallen comrade, to honor Tyler's memory and lay him to rest. In a solemn ceremony, they gathered around Tyler's final resting place, a serene clearing deep within the heart of the forest. The pack, united in their grief, stood in silent reverence as Miguel delivered a heartfelt eulogy. Tears mingled with the earth as they lowered Tyler's body into the sacred ground, each member offering a silent prayer for their departed brother.

Terry stepped into the cabin light. He had changed into a pair of dark gray sweatpants and a heavy black Blizzard hoodie, but he looked completely massive, his six-foot-three frame instantly making the train car feel cramped. His left leg was entirely encased in a rigid, high-tech black medical brace that locked his knee straight. He was leaning heavily on a single aluminum crutch, but his posture wasn't defeated. It was menacing. His grey eyes were like twin chips of flint as they locked onto Vance Brooks. "You're screaming at the wrong person, Vance," Terry said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated through the floorboards, completely cutting through the corporate tension.

That’s Terry—a wiseass, a creep, and a great defense attorney who speaks his greeting to my tits. “My cupboards are bare and I’m hungry.” He doesn’t look up. “Good, because you won’t like the case I need you for. Step into my office and I’ll go over the details.” He turns to Brenda. “Bring the Connor file in, please.” I follow Terry into his office and take a seat at his massive cherry oak desk. His office is large and showy. He has invested a great deal of money in the furniture alone. From the desk to the cherry oak bookcases that cover the walls, there’s obviously money in defending scumbags. And right now, I need some of that money.

she said, already throwing the strap over her shoulder. Outside, wind slapped her clean. Grit stung. The camp boiled: crates lashed, specimens padded, orders traded in short, sharp bursts. Terry—tall, sinewy, old ink fading on sun-dark skin—caught her eye and waved her into the ops tent near the landing zone. Ex-military turned logistics, he moved like a man who knew how fast things fall apart. “Checklist.” He handed her a board. “We’re two pallets behind. Bird’s here for thirty, tops.”

That's Terry-a wiseass, a creep, and a great defense attorney who speaks his greeting to my tits. "My cupboards are bare and I'm hungry." He doesn't look up. "Good, because you won't like the case I need you for. Step into my office and I'll go over the details." He turns to Brenda. "Bring the Connor file in, please." I follow Terry into his office and take a seat at his massive cherry oak desk. His office is large and showy. He has invested a great deal of money in the furniture alone. From the desk to the cherry oak bookcases that cover the walls, there's obviously money in defending scumbags. And right now, I need some of that money.

Keegan chuckled. Terry came and plopped down at their booth, grabbing the last shrimp off the plate, and handed a folder to Keegan. Not wanting to concern Ember with more worries, he just sat it on the side without opening it. Hopefully, she would just think it was about business. He knew it would contain the receipts from the customers Terry had told him about, along with any photos she was able to get from the cameras. “So, are we ready to go?” Terry asked, already bouncing with excitement.

Terry laughs. “And every morning if she is willing,” Eric winks. “I hear tell of you finding your mate, maybe?” “Yeah, Catherine and I have a connection. She turns 16 in a couple of weeks, so I’m heading back soon,” Terry smiles. “Being mated is like falling on air that is both the perfect temperature and burning hot,” Eric smiles. A warrior is wheeled in with multiple bruises. Terry takes the intake information from the escorts. “Who was he sparing with?” Terry asks.

Terry had not given him any face since he walked in, let alone Heidy. What's more, what does Terry count for now? Was the regional president of Sharp Technology impressive? And he doesn't even bother to see where he is standing now! This LA, he Kaleb, could still say a few words! Terry put down the fork and asked, "What does Mr. Coffey have to teach?"