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The Mobster And The Writer

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I am not the type of girl who attracts men, my life is not very social and my best friend is my cat Salem. He dedicated me to writing, hanging out with my brother, and sometimes with my few friends. Everything was normal until that Valentine's Day when everything changed for me. Two men burst into my life as if they were earthquakes, their auras indicating danger and they enveloped me in their life as if I had belonged there. My mother always said that men with tattoos were a danger and a problem for girls. But these two Greek gods got me and now I'm part of the mob. This is my story

Don't call me cutie

My Valentine's date was called Acer. It was red. Beautiful.

We met through my brother just on my birthday and since then we have not separated. He was the most incredible thing in this world, he loved everything I threw at him, which was quite a lot, and he didn't complain that he had to work hard because he was always by my side. He didn't bother if I wanted to spend the whole afternoon lying on the couch watching Gossip Girl with him. He didn't care about anything. It was almost perfect. Almost, because I always needed a cable or a battery. He was very dependent on them. Yeah, well, my Valentine's date was my laptop, and our plan was for me to make some progress on the romance novel that I had to deliver at the end of the month. The life of a romantic writer is not easy and in my case, it was not even romantic.

My name is Samantha, if, as the protagonist of the Bewitched series, my mother was a big fan and hence my name. I walk my brother somewhere in the city with a very small cute (because that's what he always does) I was on my couch colored gray recreating anger on the laptop a bit desperate to end the d*mn story that it was making my life bitter.

It made me bitter because the protagonist was not me.

What is the point of creating a very handsome boy in a book when the one who is going to keep him is not you? Amazing. This is how the world went. I hated Cindy, the six-foot blue-eyed blonde skinnier than a skull who was the winner of the award I had created myself.

Congratulations! You are nobody but I leave you a handsome man at your door without you having to do anything. Thank you for existing. Ha! Life was very unfair.

I guess every good story has a beginning and an end. That's obvious. Bad stories follow those rules too, but no one ever says that. So that? Anyway. I was, in my messy apartment, with a semi-locked laptop when they began to knock on the door of my house, causing my cat Salem to hide under the sofa, where it would hardly be possible later on for good.

I cursed in several languages and barefoot went to open the door.

"I don't want ..." I stopped when I saw the most imposing man in the world in front of me, panting and gagging. Covered in tattoos with a gun...

With a gun?

YES! It's a d*mn gun!

He did not flinch at the mere me m and grabbed her waist and closed giving the door. He pulled me into the living room while I looked more like a rag doll than a person.

Great… I go into shock just as a Greek god has fallen from the sky.

Although I tried to speak I could only open and close my mouth like a fish. I've always been this attractive. You know, it is born, it is not made. Until finally I could find my voice.

"You're staining my carpet with blood"

Ok... If it is totally out of place. Instead of saying: Who are you? Did you call the police? Is it okay? What the hell are you doing here? or things like that I tell you the obvious.

I always thought I deserved a Nobel.

The boy, man, god, or whatever, stared at my face for a few moments before starting to laugh out loud. As tall and wide and as handsome as he was, seeing him laugh all over my face like he was a child was a sight. I almost felt proud to see so... Almost, but I was filling my house with blood and above all, I was not good at cleaning

"Look, I'm sorry to be rude and stuff. I'm not good at visits, but I'm even worse at cleaning and I don't know if you're going to bleed out or something, but it gives me chills just thinking about taking a sponge and removing stains. Do you mind going to the bathroom so you clean that up?"

"Sure" Although he tried to put on a serious face again, he was holding back the laugh.

Wonderful, now I was a rodeo clown.

"Now we talk cutie"

Ah! Spontaneous combustion. He had a deep country voice, and he had called me cute, ok my panties have fallen off and everything.

"Don't call me cutie, I'm allergic" I followed him to the bathroom and leaned against the doorjamb "My name is Samantha"

"Delighted, Samantha" He took off the black vest he was wearing, and I could see a very tight black shirt soaked in blood "I'm G. You don't need to know my full name. And I'm hurt in case you haven't noticed. I'm not sure if I have a bullet, or just grazed or stabbed. Whatever it is, it sucks. I hope it's a bullet"

He took off his shirt and I started hyperventilating. This man was perfect.

"Great, G. Well ... I think I have a medicine cabinet... Somewhere... Surely..."

I turned around and practically ran to my bedroom looking for the d*mn medicine cabinet I knew had to be somewhere.

Breathing a little better, I looked at myself in the mirror. I wanted to die. She had a horrible dead face, with her hair in a disgusting bun, and she was wearing the most hideous and masculine blouse in the world that I had taken from my brother. I sure fell in love. I let my hair down and tried to get decent.

Nothing, it was in vain.

Resigned, I returned to the bathroom and there I found the gorilla digging into his wound. I looked at him with wide eyes, surely he looked like a cartoon, but that behavior did not seem too hygienic.

"Look, I'm sorry I'm a busybody, but it's going to be worse this way. Let me help you and stop mutilating yourself that you are starting to give me grief" I crossed my arms while he looked at me like I was a freak.

Maybe it was...

Before he gave her time to respond, I got down on my knees next to her and began to feel like a movie actress letting out my inner nurse. The one that did not come out when choosing a profession. Well, as my mother says, better late than never. Better now with this man than with an old man. At least the sight and touch were grateful to me, although taking out a bullet was not very attractive. Before I had a chance to start doing anything, he was taking my sweatshirt off and putting his blood-soaked shirt on me. At least he was considerate, and she felt sorry for the top of her blouse. The one below had no chance of being removed and of course as much as he was a demigod, I was not going to undress for him. Not so fast, of course. Maybe after an amazing date, or after our wedding.

At heart, he was not too demanding.

I tried to remove the bullet with a pair of tweezers, but it refused to cooperate, and I wasn't trying too hard either because I was afraid of hurting the boy. At least that was my intention. Seeing that we were not going anywhere, I put a towel in his mouth and with my fingers pulled the piece of metal out of the wound. I looked up and saw the palest face in history. It had hurt a bit. I disinfected the wound and bandaged it as best I could, avoiding touching the damaged skin.

"Sorry" I mumbled when I finished "I promise you I tried to be quick and not hurt, but I'm not a nurse and of course, I've only actually done what is done in the movies. Maybe I should have stitched up the wound or something, but I thought it was small and that it would heal by itself and ..." He covered my mouth with his hand.

"Shut up a bit. Now let's have dinner, and then we'll talk" I nodded while he kept my mouth covered.

Bossy.

I got up and stretched my legs, who complained about squatting in the bathroom for so long. It wasn't a very comfortable position and I deserved that little annoyance, even if I didn't like it too much. I didn't look back, because I assumed the mystery lord was following me. What else could it be? I went into the kitchen, realizing that my socks had been stained with blood, and I was leaving grotesque footprints on the floor. Great. My mother always told me that I can't go barefoot around the house. This time he would have been wrong. With slippers, I would have made it a lot messier.

I sat on the counter and watched him come in with his arrogant air. I had just met him and I already liked him. Only he could have the ability to fall ill at first glance. A lot of muscle but little charisma. His black eyes gave me a chill. That boy was scary. Normal that he went down the street shooting and being shot. He had that aura of violent evil around him.

Like me, only my aura was a little pinker, cheesier, and more different than it might seem, but I want to make it clear that I was scared too. And a lot.

"I'm hungry" said the caveman.

"And I" I crossed my arms "You have forced yourself into my house, I was not expecting company today. I am a lonely girl, as you can see. Valentine alone" I sighed "The only thing I thought about having dinner today was ice cream from Ben & Jerry's and watching a cheesy movie that would make me whimper a bit. I am a bitter person who only wants a little love and ..." He covered my mouth again.

Impolite.

"Shut up, sweetie, you give me a headache"

Let me sit with his mouth open and pulled out of the fridge my jar of ice cream and cold pieces of pizza left over from the previous meal with my friends. I didn't remember they were there. Better, that way the b*st*rd wouldn't have to destroy my kitchen. Without waiting for him, I jumped off the counter and took MY ice cream from him. I picked up a teaspoon and went to the living room ignoring him. I didn't know if he was kidnapping me or if it was just going to be something temporary, and it was going to go fast, but I knew that I couldn't behave like I was scared, even though I was scared to death, but I was channeling all the negative feelings through my great big mouth that said the first thing that crossed my mind. I've always been a very smart girl.

I rummaged through my large DVD collection. Most of the money I made from book sales went to buy books for my reading and movies. My nights were spent in front of the television or the armchair absorbed in reading. Those were my usual plans. Advantages of being a loner. Thanks to that, I had a lot of variety and a zillion romantic movies to choose from. It didn't take long to pick one: Dear John. Sticking to Valentine's classics was the best idea. So I was not wrong for sure.

I looked around the room for Salem, but he didn't seem to have come out of hiding. He was very scary and always had me looking for him around the house. He made my life not a loop of continuous boredom. I adored that little bug that jumped on me when I least expected it. It was part of her charm, it had been the best gift anyone had ever given me. Along with Acer.

He had enough love for Acer and Salem. With them, my life was better.

A hand settled on the lower part of my back as I lay on the floor looking under the couch and calling for Salem. I jumped up and began to whip, ready for any attack. The b*st*rd was in front of me, chuckling. Did he say I didn't like him?

"Idiot" I muttered. "Have you seen a cat?"

"Cat?" He looked at me as if he was hallucinating.

"Yes, a small mammal that has a color ..." He covered my mouth again.

"I know what it is, but I haven't seen it"

Then, making his triumphal entrance, Salem leaped from behind a cushion into my arms. I hugged him a little because I knew that this affectionate gesture calmed him down, and I stroked his back. I felt the funny look of the idiot, but I did not deign to look at him. That would give him the satisfaction that I didn't want to give him. Feeling my distaste for that character, Salem began to feel nervous, and before I could stop him, jumped on the unfortunate do.

Without thinking, I jumped on the idiot and rolled with him, trying to catch my pet. He ended up inside my shirt shaking. He was very brave at the time, but that bravery lasted seconds. At least I was trying to defend myself, I was a cute animal.

Do you see that it is better than a man?

"My God, that animal has to die"

I hit him, he wouldn't touch my cat.

"The one who has to die is you, idiot. Don't mess with Salem, or I'll leave you on the landing to finish killing you"

My words caused him to get up off the ground and pull me to his feet. He turned me around and handcuffed my hands. Wives? Where did he get the handcuffs?

Oh my god, he kidnapped me.

I looked at him feeling completely tiny and realized that for him, I was no bigger than a little girl. He was going to rob my house, he was going to kidnap me and sell me in the slave market.

Valentine's Day

What if they were the sex slave type? I started hyperventilating, imagining the life I was going to have to lead from now on, and without realizing it I started crying. He threw me on the couch and I fell bouncing sideways, causing Salem to come out and utter my tears. He liked salt. I thought maybe he was just going to rob me and now that he had seen it he would have to kill me. Who would expect someone to be in my house on Valentine's Day? If he killed me, who would take care of Salem? Rob? I started thinking about Rob my brother. Without me I would have no one to call every day in the afternoon, nor would I have a cook on weekends

Before I could begin to beg for my life, my abductor shoved something into my mouth. Poison. My eyes widened and I began to shake until an unexpected taste began to flow through my mouth. Could be...? It was...? I had scooped ice cream into myself. I stared at him without understanding anything.

"

Heroes

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