Toontown Roger Rabbit Novels & Stories

Tamsyn made it very clear that she didn’t care what happened to dad and me the last time I saw her. Swallowing hard, I lower my hands to my thighs and wipe them on my jeans. I ring the doorbell and wait patiently until Roger opens the door. A minute passes before the door comes open, and Roger’s imposing form fills the entryway. “Yes?” He mumbles with a grimace. Roger never really liked my dad or me. Come to think of it, Roger has never liked anyone. He always walks around with his nose up in the air as if he’s smelling something sour.

However, this time, it did nothing to soothe Roger. His anger could not be appeased. “Enough, Lani. This is not the time for that. Find me when you hear anything about Kitten.” With that, he walked away, carrying the parrot and its cage with him. Delanie was left alone in the garden, but there was still a lot to explore, giving her the needed time to take pictures. For the time being, Roger found solace in the company of his new friend, Milo. To him, Milo wasn’t just a pet but a friend who would support his emotions without trying to discourage him like his family did.

To his surprise, he immediately ran as fast as he can heading to his room, and locked the door. Even in this room, he could still hear the scratching of Porter’s claws in his wooden door. Roger hid inside the bed, hard to breathe and shaking. After the successful plan scaring the hell out of Roger, Porter immediately jumped to the rooftop and leave. A few minutes, Roger’s friends noticed that he didn’t come back after getting some beer. So they went and look for him. “Roger, are you there?” Gabby knocked at the door. “Roger is that you in the room?” He added after they heard some weird sounds inside.

Don't forget to comment and vote for the story! Until the next update of Queen Rouge. -Rama✌

I've never been so close and personal with an enemy capable of ending me with a twat from his hand before. To my surprise, Roger's lips eventually curl, and he laughs. He gently places me over his chest and closes his eyes. "So heal me then. Hurry, little wolf. I'm dying." Wait, what? Seriously? My fear blows away. Roger isn't as teasing as Caleb when he speaks. He is super bossy, and it aggravates me. The bastard talks to me like I'm his freaking servant—Roger is the male version of Jenna. "I'm not your slave..." I mutter while crouching on top of him, blushing when I notice the hole is gone—the moronic alpha is almost entirely healed. I'm currently sitting over his abs.

I would willingly take on ten muscle-men bodybuilders before I even thought about messing with Dean. In one fluid motion, Dean had Roger pressed against the wall, his hands wrapped in the front of Roger's shirt. Roger started spluttering, the whites of his eyes growing bigger until he looked like a scared rabbit. Dean held him there, then leaned in and whispered something. I couldn't hear it, but somehow Roger's eyes grew even bigger. His hand started scratching at the wall, desperately looking for the door handle to make his escape. Dean let him go, pushing off of him like he didn't want the stench of Roger on his hands. Roger scrambled for the door, running like a beaten dog with his tail

“I have men that aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty if you need the assistance. I simply want to help.” I nod, and Roger shows him to the door. As soon as he’s gone, I pour myself a generous amount of scotch. Tough kid, rough around the edges even with all his posturing in that suit and expensive haircut. Certainly somebody I’d prefer to call an ally than an enemy. When Roger returns, he immediately launches into the earful he's dying to give me. “We didn't need him to tell us it was Jack. I think it was obvious from the beginning that he’s behind this shit.”

“He’s like, the size of a marble. He doesn’t have room for any emotions beside happy. And it’s not even like he knows the word – he’s just telling us he’s content.” “Well let’s see what else we can make him do,” Roger says, shifting himself lower so that his face is closer to my belly now. I laugh at him, shaking my head but playing along. “He’s not a Labrador, Roger,” I murmur, “he doesn’t do tricks.” But my mate ignores me.