Who Wrote The Gambler Novels & Stories

"Sources close to Mark Hanson, veteran sports columnist for the City Post, have confirmed that the journalist is facing mounting gambling debts following a series of undisclosed losses..." Sebastian leaned over his shoulder to read. His breath was warm on Damian's neck. "Add something about a loan shark." "That's too dramatic." "It's perfect." "It's a cliché." "Clichés exist because they work." Damian sighed and added a line about "alleged involvement with underground betting rings." Sebastian patted his shoulder approvingly. "You're a natural at this," Sebastian said. "I read a lot of crime novels as a teenager." "Of course you did."

His whole body started trembling. "Lane… I…" He reached shakily toward the hem of my pants. I stepped back immediately, avoiding his hand as if it were filthy. "Kian, have you ever seen a gambler before?" I looked directly into his eyes, speaking slowly and clearly, "Gamblers never regret gambling. They only regret the order in which they played their cards. "You’re not crying because you regret cheating on me. You’re crying because you lost. "You lost the woman who treated you like her entire world. You lost the free caretaker who cleaned up your life and loved you unconditionally.

I narrow my eyes at him, watching him close, swearing up and down in my head that if he so much as twitches while trying to convince me he hasn’t led to any of her injuries; I will pounce on him. “Tell me everything you have done to sabotage her.” I ask, eerily calm. He swallows and after a beat, he closes his eyes tight and exhales. “All I have done is plant seeds in some warriors’ heads. Ideas about the two of you being romantically involved and how it will win her a free pass. All I have done is play mind games with others and with her.” I shake my head in disbelief. “All you have done is play mind games? Mind games that have continually put her in situations where she is in danger when s

Gareth was renowned in all six of the southeast states as a gemstone gambler, and he rarely met anyone who was a match for him. Many jewelry companies in the country hired him as a consultant. However, he had made too many enemies in the gemstone betting industry, so he no longer dared to show his face. After that, Gunther had introduced him to Hunter. Gareth was delighted to meet an ally as powerful as Hunter was, and the two of them had hit it off at once.

Bruno brought out a stick of cigarette, which he lit immediately, handing it over to Corbin who took it from him, placing it between his lips "Who's your best card player here?" "uhh, you wanna gamble?" Bruno asked, chuckling "Grassfinch, that is his name, always in a black mask, I have wanted both of you to play together, but you haven't been coming for a while, and Grass Finch is not here yet, he would soon be here. I am sure of that." Bruno started, excitedly. "Grassfinch, he his a crazy gambler, they call him the king of gambling in this Casino...He his a weird guy...."

I pulled the massive pot toward me as Leslie slapped her hand on the table with a proud grin. “I told you, my man doesn’t disappoint,” Leslie said, knocking on the table, her voice loud with satisfaction and a proud smirk on her face. Gambling is my thing—it’s like I was born for it. It runs in my blood. I’ve never failed, not once. Flo’s sugar daddy, a balding, hairy, and heavyset man, stood up with an angry expression, fuming at his loss. 'Stupid fucking old man,' Ghost said in my head.

“For what amount ?” I can’t stop myself from grinning. “Now you’re talking like a mistress”. “As you professed to have never had one, I’m not certain how you know that”. “When men gamble, they do one of two things: they either grumble or they boast. And both are exaggerated. Nothing is as bad as they seem to make it sound, and none of them excel at whatever they are talking about to the extent that they would have one believe. But often the topics revolve around their wives or their mistresses”.

Stefano threatened the gambler and his goons which they reluctantly obeyed. "Now I'm aware that this lady here owes you some money, am I correct?" He picked up a small wooden chair by the corner and sat on it, crossing his leg to lie over the other. "Yes" The gambler replied, watching Stefano closely. "Good. Let them go" He commanded. "Do you know how much this lady owes me? You can't just come in here and tell.me to free this debtor" the gambler wailed angrily.

Ironically, the liquor that was supposed to fog his judgment was making him realize how he overplayed his card with her. "Do you wanna talk about it?" Pam asked carefully before she popped an olive in her mouth that came with her cocktail. Eli didn't take his eyes off the gaming area as he spoke. "You know what's the biggest problem of a gambler, Pam?" Pam didn't know where this conversation was heading, but since he was being so glum, the least she could do was humor him. "What?" she asked. "A gambler doesn't know when to quit. He's unstoppable when he's winning, of course. But when he starts losing, that's when a gambler becomes more consumed with the desire to win. Self-control's the firs