Tommy Slater Novels & Stories

When Salvatore 'Sally' Morelli's hand struck my face, I did not even register what had happened. A dull, heavy crack echoed through the room, and I stumbled as my head filled with a sharp, ringing buzz. My left cheek burned hot at first, then searing, like someone held a flame to my skin. I pressed my hand to my face and stared at him blankly. My boyfriend, the firstborn son of the Morelli family of New Yiz, the future heir to the Don, had just slapped me across the face in front of the entire family and our guests—all because I got into an argument with another woman.

He spits. Classy. “Tommy,” Rowan says and I see the wolf jerk in surprise at that. “What?” I ask, turning to her. “His name is Tommy,” she repeats. “He is the usual buffed up, dumb brute. More brawn, less brain. Lives by every word that comes out of Dominic's mouth and breathes by the air that comes from his ass and is unnecessarily cruel. You can't break him. To him, Dominic is the beginning and the end. Which is good,” she finishes.

They both laughed. A bathroom stall opened and I gladly walked in. I hoped Van went home with blonde boobs and caught something, preferably crabs. I took my shirt off and put on Slam red. “The Slam” was also in large letters across the back. I walked out of the stall thankful the two women were no longer in my line of sight. I wove through the crowd back to Charlie and Stub. They were talking to a man and woman in yellow shirts. “Cami, meet Ron and Katy. Ron’s brother Tommy plays for Crush.”

They both laughed. A bathroom stall opened and I gladly walked in. I hoped Van went home with blonde boobs and caught something, preferably crabs. I took my shirt off and put on Slam red. "The Slam" was also in large letters across the back. I walked out of the stall thankful the two women were no longer in my line of sight. I wove through the crowd back to Charlie and Stub. They were talking to a man and woman in yellow shirts. "Cami, meet Ron and Katy. Ron's brother Tommy plays for Crush."

“What do you think waits for us on that shore?” “Anything,” Valerian said simply. “Maeron isn’t a brute. He’s a tactician. And Solmyra… she’s a force we haven’t faced before. She could twist your mind before your sword ever leaves the sheath. This isn’t just a rescue mission anymore.” Alexandro exhaled slowly. “Then what is it?”

He was dressed in a tuxedo and was holding two glasses of drinks with a nice smile which he found strange because it was appealing to him, he waved it at the back of his mind and returned the smile "honestly, they are worst than a bug." The young man laughed softly at his joke before handing him a drink to which he collected, "allow me to introduce myself Mr. Boron, I am Oliver Simon, at your service" he did a dramatic bow which Kane must admit was a little funny since it wasn't necessary. "And what will be your service be to me Mr. Simon?" He asked with a raised eyebrow and a faint smile on his lips. "To drive the pests away of course but you must be ready to pay me handsomely."

“Whose gun is that?” “Don’t ask,” said Tommy, collapsing back. “You better just—I’m not gonna make this one, dude.” “Malarkey. Let’s move it.” “I don’t think so.” Truitt gestured at his legs. “They quit working on me.” Richard lifted him again, and inhaled sharply. The ground underneath was crimson with blood loss. Seeped through the back of Tom’s shirt, expanding red and wet. Crimson in the snow. “Caught one of Prick-we’s slugs, I think,” Tommy said. “Can’t feel much.”

Slater walked up ahead and slowed, turning back to shoot her a lazy grin. Drat, she wasn’t much up for conversation. She stared up the path at a fellow volunteer pointing out a random bird to the children, who gathered up ahead. The guy was a bird-watching guru. He yammered on for hours about weavers and hornbills. It bored the bejeezus out of her. Plus, she needed to pee for like the twentieth time that day; her bladder felt like it was about to burst. She glanced sideways at the demigod ambling beside her. Slater was a lethal Lamborghini as opposed to John—an imposing Ford F650 truck. “We haven’t officially been introduced. I’m guessing you know who I am.”

He recollected himself to tap back and click the second result. "Shel, the people's heartthrob, and genius tech giant of our time has gone down in the fight against the strongest and most powerful man of our time in the battle of the end, Tom Salisbury. He has fallen victim to the spontaneous rise of Tom to power who has taken the world by storm and has shown himself to be the most capable and talented man on earth. '' If Tom's eyes could widen further, it did.

the other Serpent asked. “Nick’s a loose end,” Tommy said dismissively. “Even if they don’t execute him immediately, he’ll be discredited. No one will believe a traitor like him over me. And if he tries to talk…” He made a slashing gesture across his throat. “Accidents can happen. Wouldn’t be the first time.” “You’re cold, man,” the first Serpent said, but there was admiration in his voice. “I’m being practical,” Tommy corrected. “This club needs strong leadership, not love-sick fools making emotional decisions. And if that means removing obstacles, so be it.”