The Grey List Series by Grey Huffington

I am not a drug dealer.I am not a seller…I am not a handler…I am not an abuser…I am not a promoter…I am not a smuggler…However, I understand that I can not save the world or the people who have chosen those paths. So, making substances safer, grander, and extremely unique is my life’s work. What I have created can’t be duplicated, stepped on, or mistaken for anything else. I’ve curated one thousand eight hundred twenty-seven strands of the purest, rarest white on the market... moreI am not a drug dealer.I am not a seller…I am not a handler…I am not an abuser…I am not a promoter…I am not a smuggler…However, I understand that I can not save the world or the people who have chosen those paths. So, making substances safer, grander, and extremely unique is my life’s work. What I have created can’t be duplicated, stepped on, or mistaken for anything else. I’ve curated one thousand eight hundred twenty-seven strands of the purest, rarest white on the market. I am not interested in or addicted to even one of them.It is not a manufactured substance that I’ve chosen as my drug. It’s a person. A woman. A storm. What she is can’t be duplicated, stepped on, or mistaken for anything else. God curated one strand of the purest, rarest woman on the planet. Her name is Egypt Johanson. She’s faultless. She is flawless. She is pure. And, not even rehab could cure me of my addiction.I am Chemistry.I am a Chemist. The Chemist. And, I am, in fact, an addict. less

I am Rather Childers… I am one of seven women… I am one of eight siblings … I am the daughter of Richie & Rhea… And, I am wanted by the federal government… I traded my career and livelihood for a life of leisure in St. Catana that guarantees my freedom and eliminates the chances of extradition. Not only for me but for my family as well. Two years ago, our superior’s freedom was on the line. To secure his rightful place amongst his siblings, a sacrifice had to be made. I was the sacrifice... moreI am Rather Childers… I am one of seven women… I am one of eight siblings … I am the daughter of Richie & Rhea… And, I am wanted by the federal government… I traded my career and livelihood for a life of leisure in St. Catana that guarantees my freedom and eliminates the chances of extradition. Not only for me but for my family as well. Two years ago, our superior’s freedom was on the line. To secure his rightful place amongst his siblings, a sacrifice had to be made. I was the sacrifice. And, in ninety days, I am set to marry a Valentine who hunts, kills, and deals for a living. His head is as hot as it is large. He’s a troublemaker. He’s a liability to his family and mine. My job? Turn him into an asset before the government turns him into bait. While that job might be simple, due to my extensive background in mental and emotional health, getting down the aisle isn’t. Because he’s not the only man’s mind I’m willing to infiltrate. Past affiliations lead me down a dark, sinister path that emphasizes my betrayal, dishonesty, and disobedience. In the end, I’m left scrambling to make good on the promises my family made. The only issue is that I could easily sacrifice my body. It was my heart that troubled me. I am a therapist. I am The Therapist. And, I am, in fact, a traitor. less

I do not want flowers …I do not want cards…I do not want sweet nothings…I do not want companionship…I want pistols…I want rifles…I want silencers… And, I want targets… Preferably human, contracted, and with skeletons falling out of their closets. My thirst for blood began as a young girl. Dollhouses and little toy families didn’t appeal to me. It was my father’s arsenal . The sound of gunfire. The cold steel of a barrel. And, the idea that one shot could end life as quickly as it had begun... moreI do not want flowers …I do not want cards…I do not want sweet nothings…I do not want companionship…I want pistols…I want rifles…I want silencers… And, I want targets… Preferably human, contracted, and with skeletons falling out of their closets. My thirst for blood began as a young girl. Dollhouses and little toy families didn’t appeal to me. It was my father’s arsenal . The sound of gunfire. The cold steel of a barrel. And, the idea that one shot could end life as quickly as it had begun. My father had cursed me before I left the womb. Ruger–after his favorite gun, he’d tried naming me. But, my mother had other plans. He foresaw a future for me drawn with gunpowder, interchangeable like custom grips, self-sufficient like automatics, and lethal like switches. I’d given my heart and soul to the soil before I stepped off the porch and conquered my first kill. I didn’t need them and wouldn’t return for them as long as I was above ground. They were in the graveyard, where everything went to decompose after their death… never to be seen again.Until him.Winning the heart of a heartless girl was deemed an impossible task. But, unbeknownst to me, Psalms ‘Sonnie’ Santoro was willing to visit the depths of the soil to retrieve that particular piece of me that I’d left to rot.He was boundless.He was relentless.He was brutal.He was cold.A hunter by nature.And I was, in fact, being hunted. less

I am not a dancer…I am not a bartender…I am not a s*x worker…I do not work the house…I own the house…And, everything that goes on in my house remains in my house. We service the wealthiest clients in all of Clarke. They come for a good time, not a long time. But, then there are those who don’t come for the fun itself. They come for the community. The connection. The Chemist... moreI am not a dancer…I am not a bartender…I am not a s*x worker…I do not work the house…I own the house…And, everything that goes on in my house remains in my house. We service the wealthiest clients in all of Clarke. They come for a good time, not a long time. But, then there are those who don’t come for the fun itself. They come for the community. The connection. The Chemist. And, in that regard…I am the connector…I am the piece of a larger puzzle…I am the rite of passage… I am the ticket to the next stop…I am the gateway….In my line of work, many men pass me by. All colors. All sizes. All walks of life. Many catch my eye but only a few keep it. I’m surrounded by greatness. I, myself, am greatness in a 5’11 frame and 6’1 on a good, stiletto-influenced day. Which leads me to believe a couple of I’m far too much woman for one man.Monogamy is far from natural. Liberation is my first, middle, and last name. My freedom doesn’t end with my sexuality.Neither did my lover’s. However, we had rules. And, when those rules were broken, hell split the earth’s crevice. He did me dirty. Instead of crying myself a river, I made a home with the worms. I didn’t surface until I had done him dirtier. Fortunately for me, I emerged unscathed and well-fucked with a new suitor on my arm. One that my ex-lover considered a father figure. I am not one to play with.I am the one who plays.I am Madam. The Madam. But, Big Fella calls me Princess. less