The New Ghost Rider Novels & Stories

" Ghost brows furrowed. “Let Ciara go. It doesn’t have to get bloody between us. Ryder won’t like that. He wants you alive and untouched." “Who the fuck is Ryder?" “Alpha Ryder of Red Cross Pack. You were his…" Ghost toned out the remaining words as he sighted Sergio running out of the nightclub. He’ll be damned if Sergio gets to the hideout before him. He turned to the guy with the gun. “I’ll be seeing you soon." Then he fired two shots at his kneecaps. Shockingly, the bullets hit the ground. They couldn’t penetrate the man’s skin. Ghost stared blankly at the bullets and then at the man.

as his hand in addition of the water moves on her clit and she closes her eyes in ecstasy and he smiles and move his finger in to her pussy and she moans out and he puts in a second finger and she throwaway her head back into the bath tub and she tightens her eyes and he puts his hand deeper into her and she moans her and he began to move his hand in and out of her and she held his hand for him not to stop and she began to moan loud and her husband smiles while she moan uncontrollably and she came and he washes her and he Carrie’s her a bridal style into the bedroom. Evelyn ghost returns into the house, she sob so hard. Evelyn mom sits beside her son and he wakes up feeling so much pain and

"Are you a criminal now?. "Let me explain this to you, the guy who is on the news is not me, he is my clone. He looks exactly like me and he can do everything i can do but he is a ghost, he is also the same fool who was attacking me at the farm house, i don't know if you believe me or not" i explained and they were all quite listening to what i was saying. "So you have been hiding all this to us this entire time?, you really thought that was damn cool?" Dad asked and he smelled anger.

Jobs were scarce when your last name was Chen and everyone in Coldwater knew your father died owing money to half the town. The straightaway opened up before me, and I twisted the throttle. The speedometer climbed at eighty, ninety, one hundred. My competitor, a rider on a Yamaha R1 who went by "Razor," was half a bike length behind. I could feel his frustration radiating through the night air. He'd been winning these underground races for six months straight until Ghost Rider appeared three months ago. He had no idea Ghost Rider was a woman. None of them did. That was the point.

Even now as her body shook terribly, they made a mistake if they thought she was an easy target and she would show them. She let out a battle cry and launched herself at him, shocking him with the sudden change enough to give her a crucial second as a steel dagger flashed out from her leather pants and she slashed at the Ghost Rider's jugular. She staggered as her steel went right through and came out, as if the Rider was made entirely of smoke. She spun around and his hand seized her wrist, very much flesh and blood and she gaped. "There is no running from your destiny Shinay. Come with us."

But I didn't run. I squeezed through the collapsed entrance, my skin burning from residual silver in the air. The interior was chaos—walls crumbling, fires burning, and everywhere that silver light pulsing. And standing in the center, surrounded by broken bodies and shattered restraints, was something I barely recognized. Racheal had transformed, but not into any wolf I'd ever seen. This was from legends. The Ghost Wolf. An actual embodiment of primal werewolf power in its purest, most terrifying form. Her eyes met mine across the destruction, and I saw no recognition in them. Only rage, power, and the promise of violence.

Or maybe I just personally wanted to raise the mysterious rider myself, and I was waiting for an opportunity to get Gabriel out of the way. My mechanic rode closer on the inspection lane, shouting over the noise, “Paxton! You seeing this?!” I already knew he was talking about those new riders. They were already causing a little bit of emotion and confusing everyone. I knew something was wrong about them. “I’m seeing everything!” I yelled back. “Check their identities again! The two men we talked about earlier!” He shook his head hard, his voice cracking from the wind slamming into him. “Nothing! The organization covered every detail. The new racers are ghosts. No names, backgrounds, or data.

Long, golden-hair guy was the first to see me. He knew my name just like the rest of the guys at Ethan’s workshop. Maybe it was time for me to get to know them too since it looked like my life was going to involve bimonthly visits to fix up my motorcycle. “Hey guys, it’s Jay the Ghost Rider,” he announced. I waved at him, a little shy. Ghost Rider became my nickname after my third visit to the workshop. Everytime I came, there was something awfully bad about my bike.

The other two… Those were where the fun happened. I dropped into my chair, set the plate beside the keyboard, and cracked my knuckles. “All right, Ghost.” My fingers danced across the keys. “Where are you?” A dozen command windows sprang to life. Lines of code streamed down the screens faster than most people could read them. Numbers, IP addresses, encrypted tunnels, relay nodes… Beautiful. Most people looked at this and saw gibberish. I saw fingerprints. Ghost was good. Better than good. They managed to stay invisible while making half the underground think they knew where they was. That alone was impressive.

"They're recruits." Noah nodded slowly. "That's what we're thinking." I studied the photographs for another moment. The men weren't professionals in the traditional sense. They'd handled weapons well enough. They'd followed instructions. But they lacked identity. No history. No reputation. Nothing linking them to any established organization. Ghost Rider wasn't building an army. They were hiring tools. Disposable ones. The doctor tied another stitch before finally speaking. "You know," he said dryly, "most patients ask me whether they'll recover."