Resultados de "Sarah A. Bailey" en Todas las categorias

I ran. It chased. She destroyed me. A dark sapphic paranormal erotic short.

Death. They call us the men who will drive the world to its knees. The Four Horsemen. A pity for them really. Prescott, West, Francis, and I are done with our masks of civility. Gods who turned on their subjects. When you unleash death, nothing can withstand it. Everything perishes in the wake of the executioner. The only things left to show for it are ash and dust.

They say you shouldn’t hoard your wealth. Those people know nothing of the power it brings. Drake, West, Prescott and I are untouchable. The men known as the Four Horsemen. Gods ruling over our kingdom. There are some secrets in this world greater than others. Our fifth was going to find that out the hard way.

West Greer - War They say violence is never the answer. I beg to differ. There’s no peace without a little pain. Drake, Prescott, Francis and I are monsters who live up to their name. The Four Horsemen. Gods reincarnated as men. Scarlett returned to the fold, but not as the girl we once knew. The girl I’d been obsessed with my whole life. The one I’d have given everything for. It all changed when she walked into Fortuity and gave us a run for our money.

I’ve had a crush on my incredibly hot, terrifying and unobtainable boss since long before I even started working under him. My daydreams are filled with dirty fantasies about him as there’s no chance any of them will become reality. Because you really shouldn't mix business with pleasure. Until you do. The moment Lucien Dumont, outstanding chef and owner of Haze, set his piercing blue grey eyes and skilled hands on me, everything changed.

Another nightshift. Another fight in a club. Friday nights in Central London were always trouble. Running across a redheaded siren who couldn't keep her eyes off me? That wasn't a usual occurrence. Amelia Williams. Her hazel eyes told me she'd love it if I did filthy things to her. I'd be playing with fire if I crossed a line and contacted her whilst I'm on duty, but somehow, I can't stop myself. I have to have this woman on her knees for me.

Innocent. Fragile. Sheltered. The secrets from the past shattered me. The lies my family told broke my soul. Devastation was my only solace. Until my angel saved me. He gave me freedom. And I'd kill for him.

It started with the war. The war we'd wage upon the very man who'd raised me. The war which would either tear us apart or keep us together. We'd finally found our way to each other. The five of us gave in. It'd been inevitable from the start. Desire had forged us, but it was love which set us free. Made us into what we were. A family drenched in blood.Everything had built up to this moment. Our final fight for survival. Our final battle against corruption.

It started when they betrayed me. The ones who I'd come to trust. The ones I was starting to love. My world flipped upside down and nothing is as it seems. Everything was unravelling before my eyes, tearing us apart while pulling us closer together. I'm caught between two worlds. The one I grew up in and the one Id' started to forge with the boys. Everything came to a grinding halt when long hidden secrets came to light. The truth changed the rules and made us realize nothing in life is ever as it seems.

It started with an impossible choice. One I had no wish to make from a person I'd only just come to know. So many of our decisions had led up to this moment. Perhaps it was the way we'd come together which threw my life so off balance. Leaving me with the final say in a matter I wanted no part of. We had to draw up the battle lines. Change our fates. Or we'd all crash and burn. It wasn't a case of if we'd fight for survival, it was when. When would he come after us? When would he try to destroy us? When would he decide I wasn't worth saving any longer?

The power of hashtag activism became clear in 2011, when #IranElection served as an organizing tool for Iranians protesting a disputed election and offered a global audience a front-row seat to a nascent revolution. Since then, activists have used a variety of hashtags to advocate, mobilize, and communicate. In this book, Sarah Jackson, Moya Bailey, and Brooke Foucault Welles explore how and why Twitter has become an important platform for historically disenfranchised populations, including Black Americans, women, and transgender people.