How Did Synyster Gates Get His Nickname In A7X?

This book is authored by amy worcester. “I started boxing lessons with the boys when I was twelve, I had some issues to work through. I’ve been in the fight for the last eleven years.” Twenty-three, he thought. That was too young for his thirty-nine years. But he sure as hell planned to enjoy the view. She currently hid her body under baggy clothes, but he was willing to bet that she was all muscles underneath. He had dated the soft curvy women before, he liked the ones that he was certain that he would not break. “How old were you when you moved in with Brute?” “Seven. Right after my parents were killed.” She said softly and he froze just before the stairs. Sixteen years ago. Right around the time he reenlisted with the Army. When the club went straight. When the Ridgeview president, Sinner, his wife and sons had been shot to death. And his daughter barely survived. The only survivor from that day. “I'm sorry.” He murmured and she shrugged. “I’m trying to remember you.” He was so much like the men that she grew up around. The kind of man that she swore she would avoid. The same type that her father had been,there were even tattoos on the backs of his hands. Jasmine was born and raised in the Devil’s Saints Motorcycle Club. A rival club caused the deaths of her family. After an incident at the mother house, she stepped away to focus on her MMA career under the name Taz.

Los Angeles was supposed to be my home. Instead, it had always felt like a golden cage. The Smith mansion stood tall behind iron gates, glittering with wealth and silence. Servants bowed. Cameras watched every corner. And the man who called himself my uncle smiled sweetly for the world while hiding knives behind his back. I was seventeen when I heard the truth. “He will take care of the girl tonight,” my uncle said over the phone, his voice calm. “Make it look like an accident.” The girl. He meant me. Fear became the only thing that kept my legs moving. I ran from the driver who was meant to take me home, sprinting through unfamiliar streets until the bright city lights disappeared and the world turned darker. Detroit. Wrong place. Wrong time. Engines roared in the distance when I saw him. A man sitting on a black motorcycle like a shadow carved from danger. Tattoos curled up his neck. His eyes were cold enough to freeze the night. Everyone knew men like him were monsters. But monsters were sometimes the only ones who could save you. I jumped onto the back of his motorcycle and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Please,” I whispered. “Help me.” That single moment would destroy his life. And change mine forever. *******

TREAD WITH CAUTION: This book contains RAW LGBTQIA+ STEAMY STORIES. This is the world of perversion. Sin is without restraints. And your imagination is welcome as well on this chaotic journey to paradise. If you volunteer as tribute, then welcome to this world—unrepentant sinner.

Four years ago, Marcus Blackthorn rejected me at our Dragon bond ceremony. He chose Clara Linwood instead. Her bloodline carried the purity of an ancient dragon clan, and with her at his side, he could secure his claim as Lord Blackthorn. He told me to wait one year, promising that once his position was secure, the title of Lady Blackthorn would eventually be mine. Everyone laughed at me for believing I had ever been anything more than a useful promise. I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me break, and I left without begging for a place in a future he had already denied me. I left his territory in silence and followed the Dragon Goddess’s sign to my second-chance mate, Caelan Frost. He was the Frost Dragon King, ruler of every dragon clan, and even a Black Dragon lord like Marcus had to bow before him. Four years later, I returned to Blackthorn Keep beside Caelan Frost, the Dragon King. Four years later, I returned to Blackthorn Keep beside Caelan Frost, the Dragon King. At the city gate, Marcus stopped me. He looked at my plain cloak, then threw a servant’s gray livery at my feet. “Stop pretending you have somewhere better to go,” he said. “My household happens to need a nursery maid. Take the work. It is the only future you have left.”

A priest has shown up at my first birthday party. He claims that I'm a cursed soul—that my presence will bring doom to those close to me, and my existence itself can snatch everyone's luck. The only way to counter this is to give me up to an orphanage and let me live a life of poverty and suffering. Without a family, I'll be able to overcome my fate as a cursed soul. Daddy has the priest cast out of our home immediately. Meanwhile, Mommy hugs me tightly. "My son is the luckiest boy in the whole wide world!" But everything has changed when my younger brother, Andy Lawson, has fallen off the 20th floor. His body is completely shattered from the fall. I can only stand by the window uneasily. Fear is evident in my eyes as I wave my hands with all my might. "It wasn't me! It really wasn't me!" The wind that day is very strong, but it can never drown out Mommy's cries. Daddy hoists me up and stuffs me into Andy's coffin. I keep latching onto the sides of the coffin to the point my fingers are all bloodied and trampled over. At the same time, I keep screaming for Mommy. Mommy stares at me blankly at first. But her hollow gaze is soon filled with hatred. "Why aren't you the one dead? That priest told us that you'll have to stay in the coffin for seven whole days and nights just to atone for your sins! Only then can Andy's soul rest in peace! "This is your fate and your sin, Adam!" The heavy lid slowly covers the coffin, soon sealing my hoarse cries and screams away. A long time later, a few voices ring out amid the sorrowful melody played by the organ. "Why is there a tiny gap in the coffin? Hurry up and nail it shut! We can't afford to have misfortune spread to us!" When the final nail is bolted onto the lid, I close my eyes. Mommy, Daddy, I'm no longer a cursed soul.

A Gen Z employee named Sylvie Mercer has reported me to the Department of Labor by claiming that I've forced all employees to work on the year-end holidays. But the truth is, I've given the entire company a nine-day vacation just to celebrate the year-end holidays. Those who are willing to work overtime shifts will be paid three times their usual salaries and given an additional five-thousand-dollar bonus. Sylvie keeps crying on the internet about how all the employees, including her, are forced to trade their lives for money. Thanks to her, the entire Internet keeps bashing me. So, I decide to follow the public opinion by releasing an announcement. "In order to ensure all employees' health, the company's doors shall be locked during the year-end holidays. Do note that the electric supply will be cut off as well. No one is permitted entry into the company." As soon as the announcement is released, the employees who plan on earning extra money in order to pay off their mortgages all rush toward my office in alarm.