Tom Wolfe Novels & Stories

he asks, his nostrils flaring. “No.” I wave my hand in a dismissal. He sits down beside me in the sand. He’s a little too close for comfort, so I scoot a little away from him. I don’t want to accidentally touch. “I’m Desmond Wolfe.” Wolfe? Forrest claimed to be a wolf. “Do you know a guy named Forrest?” He nods. “He’s my alpha.” His… Alpha?

At the end of the long crimson path, standing before the marble altar, was Adrian Wolfe. His massive six-foot-four frame was clad in an immaculate, custom black three-piece tuxedo with silk lapels that broadened his already terrifying shoulders. His hands were clasped loosely in front of him, his rugged, scarred features set into a mask of intense gravity. But the moment his dark eyes found Lydia breaking through the light at the entrance, his jaw tightened noticeably. The cold, unapproachable Wall Street titan vanished, replaced entirely by a man who looked as though his entire soul was being bound to the woman walking toward him.

Leaning in until he filled my vision. "I am a Tactician," he said. "My entire existence is based on pattern recognition. I watched the engagement in the courtyard. I saw the rebel forces hold fire. I saw the Leader hesitate." He tilted his head. "A fanatic does not hesitate to shoot a shield, Neoma. Unless the shield matters to him." My heart skipped a beat. Wolfy was too smart. He was a computer made of flesh and bone, and he was processing the data. My stomach tightened.

Usually all swagger and smirks—now nervously tugging at his collar like a pup caught sneaking into a ranked wolf meeting. "Well, Alpha Larry?" I teased, arching a brow. "Say it! Say it already!" "Don’t chicken out now, Larry!" "We lit fireworks for this!" Our friends were hollering from the sidelines, and even a few wolves had stopped to watch. Phones out. Smiles wide. But my wolf… she stiffened. Just a little. A quiet shift in the wind brought his scent. And there he was. Tom. Standing alone under a streetlamp like he’d stepped straight out of a haunted memory.

face. Wolfe began to reminisce on his short twenty-five years on earth. He thought about his parents that died when he was only ten. He could not even remember their faces. He thought about the beautiful memories he had together with them, his short time at the orphanage, his foster parents who ended up dying in a car accident during their wedding anniversary, his second time in the orphanage where he met his first love, her last words before her death in the hospital. He thought about his married wrestling teachers who taught him everything he knew about wrestling and encouraged him to become a pro, his second love and the circumstances surrounding their meeting each other, his wedding cer

Chad smiled. "Yes, Sir Chad, he's a honest, loyal Beta, but his human side is strong. That's where his emotions hide, in his human. I wouldn't want any other Wolfe as my 2nd in command." Rex said, nodding. "That's enough talking, let's get a plan in place and get our Royal back, hmmm?" Chad walked away from the Dark Alpha and the others, headed in the direction of the Council Chambers. "Kit, my Wolf is sensing something, something bad," Rixa said to her mate, her hair standing up all over her body as if she just got struck by lightning.

“What are you waiting for? You’re going to get soaked.” Wondering again if one of the both of them was losing a few nuts he joined her. Matthew Wolffe. Nicknamed the Wolf. Self-made and successful. And he was running in the streets alongside a laughing nurse who caught his attention singing soulfully at a club. She was laughing as she shielded her head from the rain, dodging passersby. Before long they were in front of her apartment. She led him through the doors and up the steps to her apartment. They were both dripping wet by the time they got into the warmth of her home. She left his side and turned on the lights. A puppy with light brown fur danced around her legs.

Then he asked the caller, "What do you mean? Who got Loki?" "I do!" An unfamiliar voice shouted. He stood near the doorway that led to the reception. "I got Loki," he repeated proudly. As I glanced at the male, I could instantly tell that he was not a Mooner whom I hadn't seen before. His mere presence could have rivalled that of Alpha Nick's. He moved further into the room, and he and the latter clasped hands in greeting. But his hard eyes remained on my mate. "Chief Richard Wolfe." The call sounded like a threat.

way too weird. I didn’t have long to dwell on it. An older gentleman with a head of silver hair and a smile that didn’t quite reach his piercing blue eyes materialized at my side. “My dear! You made it!” he boomed, grabbing my hands before I could react. He leaned in and kissed me on both cheeks. His skin smelled like expensive cologne and old parchment. “I am Charles Wolfe. We are so delighted you could honor us with your presence.” So, this was the big boss wolf.

“Your mic is fine, Sarge. And everything else is fine too. It’s always a fine day when you’re in the Army.” "Damn straight," Dearden said, turning back to the road. "But, seriously, what's bothering you? I know you ain't got a girl back home, so it can't have been a 'Dear John' letter." Wolfe looked at the desolate landscape. Afghanistan was a harsh place to live, but he had become quite familiar with it over the last few months. “The intel that we got today is bothering me. I got it from an unreliable source. Still, I can’t say why, but I expect trouble. I want you to be on your guard today.”