Doomsday Love Read Online Shanora Williams

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, New Adult, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)

If you're thinking this is the typical MMA're wrong.

When we were ten, he treated me like a friend.
When we were eighteen, he wanted nothing to do with me.
And now that we are twenty-two, he longs to claim every single inch of me.
He was wild--untamed.
And I, a reckless girl, who loved too hard.
But, what we had was special.
I was his serenity and he my protector.
Drake was consumed by my love...
but he also took advantage of it...
He'd broken my heart--left me hanging for years.
He ruined us.
And, now, he's back.
He wants me.
And I want to hate him, I really do.
But, who am I kidding?
No one can deny Drake Davenport.
You can't hide from the almighty DOOMSDAY.
Because he is a fighter.
And, just like me, he loves hard.
He never loses and he will fight as hard as he can if it means winning me back.

**Doomsday Love is a 149K word novel and it is a STANDALONE. It also features the first three chapters of Shanora Williams' #1 bestselling taboo standalone novel, Tainted Black.**

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

“Most of all, I learned that it’s possible for two people to fall in love all over again, even when there’s been a lifetime of disappointment between them.”

- Nicholas Sparks

Part 1


Chapter 1


People always questioned his appearance.

He, being Drake, the curly, inky-haired kid that never went unnoticed. I’d known about him since I was in the fourth grade. I didn’t meet him until the fifth.

Every Tuesday that he showed up to school, he sported at least one gash on his face and knuckles that were bloody red. I say Tuesdays, because on Mondays he was always absent.

He was taller than the average fifth grader. He had long, black eyelashes that hid bold, emerald eyes, and wild, long black hair that concealed his boyish features. He needed a haircut badly.

All of the kids in our school were afraid to talk to him or look him in the eye, not just because of his rough, rugged looks, but also because of the rumors that circulated through school like water out of the fountains.

They loved to talk about him. I think some boys actually envied him—mostly because of his height and how, even though most of the girls were terrified of him, they also had a small crush on him. What girl can resist a bad boy?

For a while, I wondered what the bruises and cuts meant. All the other kids in Mrs. Pots’ fifth grade class were afraid to ask Drake Davenport why he always had marks on his body, but not me.

His broodiness didn’t bother me. It further intrigued my naïve mind, and when he was assigned to sit at my table in art class after the new semester, I asked him about it on the very first day.

“Why do you always look like you’ve been beat up?”

He turned to look at me, his thick eyebrows furrowing beneath his corkscrew bangs.

“What?” he muttered.

“You heard me.” I sat back in my chair, dropping my pencil. “Why do you look like that everyday?”

He grimaced, jerking his head to look away. “Leave me alone.”

“Why won’t you tell people? Is it bad?” I whispered my last question.

He frowned at the chalkboard, avoiding my eyes at all costs. “Fuck off,” he grumbled.

I gasped like a true girly-girl. “Why did you say that? You can’t say words like that!”

“Well, leave me alone, stupid girl.”

I folded my arms tightly across my chest. “For your information, I’m not stupid. I have the best grades in our class. I got accepted into Lake Lane Middle School, thank you very much.” Lake Lane was a private school in our lakeside city of Fox River, Minnesota. It was very hard to get into, even if the family had money to spend on it. The student basically had to have straight A’s all year long if they wanted in. I was proud to be accepted.

Drake rolled his eyes. “Does it look like I care about your dumb grades?”

“Do you care about anything?” I inquired. I was a nosy, prying kid. I can admit that.

“Do you ever freaking stop talking?”

“No. The only way to get answers is if you ask questions. Imagine if Einstein didn’t ask himself questions. He wouldn’t have been such a genius.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled. He dropped his markers and then pushed out of his chair, marching towards Mrs. Pots’ desk.

He asked her something and she reluctantly handed him the yellow bathroom pass, telling him to hurry back. He was out of the door in seconds, and I blew a breath. Sheesh. Was he rude or what?

“You better leave him alone, Jenny,” Jake whispered across the able. “I heard he beat up a girl on the playground once.”

I frowned. “I don’t believe that.” I glanced at the door. “I don’t think he’s so bad. He just doesn’t like to talk.”

“I heard he lives in a moving house with no bedrooms in a bad part of the city.” Silvia laughed as she covered her mouth, pointing her gaze at the door Drake recently walked out. “He’s so poor. Look at what he wears! That’s probably why he’s so mad all the time.”