Wild Wind – Chaos Read Online Kristen Ashley

Categories Genre: Biker, Contemporary, MC, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 94897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

Wild Wind - Chaos

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Kristen Ashley

Book Information:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Kristen Ashley brings a new story in her Chaos series…
When he was sixteen years old, Jagger Black laid eyes on the girl who was his. At a cemetery. During her mother’s funeral.
For years, their lives cross, they feel the pull of their connection, but then they go their separate ways.
But when Jagger sees that girl chasing someone down the street, he doesn’t think twice before he wades right in. And when he gets a full-on dose of the woman she’s become, he knows he finally has to decide if he’s all in or if it’s time to cut her loose.
She’s ready to be cut loose. But Jagger is all in.
****Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you'll enjoy each one as much as we do.**
Books by Author:

Kristen Ashley

One Thousand and One Dark Nights

Once upon a time, in the future…

I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.

I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and

the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast

library at my father’s home and collected thousands

of volumes of fantastic tales.

I learned all about ancient races and bygone

times. About myths and legends and dreams of all

people through the millennium. And the more I read

the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered

that I was able to travel into the stories... to actually

become part of them.

I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher

and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I

would not be telling you this tale now.

But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off

with bravery.

One afternoon, curious about the myth of the

Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to

see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar

(Persian: شهريار, “king”) married a new virgin, and then

sent yesterday's wife to be beheaded. It was written

and I had read, that by the time he met Scheherazade,

the vizier's daughter, he’d killed one thousand


Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived

in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged

places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had

never occurred before and that still to this day, I

cannot explain.

Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have

taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can

protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to

protect herself and stay alive.

Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.

And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a

point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.

And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that

he might hear the rest of my dark tale.

As soon as I finish a story... I begin a new

one... like the one that you, dear reader, have before

you now.


Fuckin’ A


When Jagger first saw her, it was eleven years ago.

On his sixteenth birthday.

His brother Dutch had let Jagger use his truck and Jag drove by himself for the first time.

Where’d he go?

He went to his father’s grave.

That was another first.

The first time he’d been there by himself.

And it was the only time Jag could remember that he and his dad had been alone together.

Well, kinda alone.

She was there.

Not with him and his dad.

She was at a funeral that was happening across the way.

When he first clapped eyes on her, she was in one of those chairs they set up, right at the front, staring at the casket.

Jag sat, and he was supposed to be sharing part of his sixteenth birthday with his dad, but he couldn’t help himself.

He kept glancing over at her, mostly because she was pretty.

But he looked her way so often, he knew, eventually when he did it, she’d be looking at him.

And eventually, she was.

She was so pretty, he didn’t think about what she was doing there, he just thought about how pretty she was.

But when they caught eyes over those thirty yards dotted with headstones, he felt the look on her face in the back of his throat.

Only then did he take in her surroundings.

There was a man sitting beside her and a guy maybe Jagger’s age sitting on the other side of the man.

But there was no woman.



He wasn’t surprised.

He knew that look on her face.

He felt it.



Even though it was his birthday, and he was finally legal to drive, and there were a million other things he wanted to do, he didn’t do any of them.

He hung there until the service was over.

He didn’t get why. Maybe it had to do with the fact that, once she saw him there, she kept glancing at him. Maybe she knew what he knew, and they both just got it. So, if she was looking his way, he needed to be there for her.

Or maybe it was that she was just that pretty.

Jag had guessed it before, but he figured it out for sure when the service was over. The way people were with her, the guy who looked like her brother, and the man who was probably her dad.

God, Jag had had that shit shoved down his throat for as long as he could remember.

He was barely old enough to talk when his dad was murdered, and to that day, he got those looks. Especially when folks found out his father was murdered. And more especially when they learned Jag was barely able to talk when his old man got whacked.

The looks she and her brother and her dad were getting right then.

Looks that Jag knew the person intended to be nice, but they made you just want to punch them in the throat.

Or shout in their face.

Just be real! I’m not dead, he is!