Read Online Books/Novels:

A Brush with the Devil

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Yolanda Olson

Book Information:

All I wanted was a night out alone to try and feel normal again.

Instead, I spent most of my time drowning my sorrows in whiskey and listening to every song that Blondie has ever produced.

I left before the liquor got the best of me, but not before putting the jukebox out of commission, and the self-appointed DJ wasn’t impressed.

I tried to get away, but he followed.

When I decided to confront my newfound demon, I found myself face-to-face with one of the most beautiful men I had ever laid eyes on. But there’s a saying about the Devil appearing as everything you ever wanted, and it’s true.

Because to me, for that one moment, he was everything I needed.

I didn’t want him to come home with me, yet he refused to leave.

He wanted to have some fun.

I was going to be his new game and he was going to play with me until he was bored and went on his merry way again.

See, he doesn’t know that I’m a monster too.

He only sees the outside and not the in.

One night with the devil is what I’ve got and I’ll show him that not everything that’s as equally beautiful as he is, is made of innocence and grace.

He wants to play … and now?

So do I.

Books by Author:

Yolanda Olson Books


New Wave Nuisance


I chuckle slightly into my glass as yet another Blondie song comes blaring from the jukebox. Apparently, someone in this place is hell-bent on playing the band’s entire catalog tonight. The headache that starts to beat in time to the music makes me wonder why the fuck I left my home anyway.

Oh yeah, I think glumly.

I’ve been feeling lonely lately.

Penn hasn’t talked to me in days and Aiden won’t look at me anymore. Not that he can, or that she wants to, but that’s not the point.

I shoot back what’s left of my whiskey, slam the glass on the bar top, then throw some money on the sticky, wooden surface. I don’t know how much my bill is, but I’m sure that a few twenty-dollar bills will cover it, plus the tip. I have to get out of here, and even though I have no intention of going straight home, I just don’t want to drink anymore or listen to the same fucking music over and over.

On the way to the door, though, I make a small detour toward the jukebox, and when I reach it, I pull the power chord out of the wall with such force, that the socket pops out with it too.

“Tough guy,” someone calls out, clapping loudly.

I don’t bother looking in the direction of the voice. No one here has my attention and being a smart ass isn’t something that will get me to react.

Not after living with Penn and Aiden for as long as I have.

I roll my neck on my shoulders as I step out into the cool, night air and light a cigarette. I don’t have any friends in this fucking place, nor do I want any, but it would be nice to have someone to tell my woes to once in a while.

The only two people that ever meant anything to me aren’t happy as one and I don’t know what to do.

If I tear them apart, they’ll die. It’s how I designed them when I put them together, and it was such a tedious task to handle because I didn’t want to pick one over the other.

“Did that make you feel good?”

I turn my eyes slightly to see one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen in my life, smirking at me with his hands buried deep into his pockets.

“Because I was enjoying the tunes,” he continues as his eyes travel up and down my body.

It’s strange how exposed the way he’s looking at me makes me feel. Almost like I’m a meal he wants to devour.

“Silent type?” he continues as he sucks his teeth and rolls his eyes. “That’s fine, I can do the talking for both of us if you want me to.”

I sigh and his smirk widens.

“Do you think it’s strange that I sometimes like to fuck pretty boys?” he asks me, the look on his face becoming slightly creepy. He’s trying to get a rise out of me and I’m going to do my damnedest not to let it happen.

I shrug indifferently and shake my head. “I don’t know. That’s not my place to say.”

He chuckles and clicks his tongue against his teeth, as he crosses his arms over his chest and sizes me up. “You’re not intimidated by me are, you?” he inquires through narrowing eyes.

“Not in the least,” I reply evenly.

“Good, that means you’re fun then,” he reasons as the smirk on his lips widens into a half-grin. “And I like having fun.”

A long-suffering sigh escapes me when it dawns on me that it’s not going to be as easy to get rid of him as I hoped. I give him a once over and wonder what in the hell someone that looks like him could possibly want with me—besides the obvious, which he’s already bluntly stated.

“I’m sure there are way more entertaining people to choose from back inside,” I finally say, nodding toward the entrance of the bar.

“Not interested in what’s in there,” he says, his eyes focusing on me dangerously. “I’d much rather see what you’ve got to offer.”

“Listen,” I bark, finally losing my temper and pointing a finger at him, “I didn’t come out tonight to take anyone home. I want to be left alone, and if you can’t figure that out by now, then it’s not my problem. Leave me the hell alone.”

I turn on my heel instantly, hands shoved deep into my pockets, cigarette hanging from my lips, and keep my head low as I start to make my way down the street. I’m not going home yet—I can’t, but it doesn’t mean that I have to stand around and trade “pleasantries” with … whatever his name happened to be.

This can’t be happening to me, I think miserably as I hear the sound of footsteps closing in behind me.