The Wild Card: Unlucky 7s: The Wild Card, #1
()
About this ebook
Marcus Jordan has just had his most successful night ever. He wants to party hard, and he's going to do so at one of the hottest nightclubs in your city. He has his best friend in tow as he gets VIP bottle service.
What could possibly go wrong?
What if everything goes exactly right... and it turns out to be the worst thing possible?
Marcus has lived in Las Vegas for just under a month now, and is experiencing great success. On one particular Saturday night, it doesn't seem like anything unusual will happen. But a massive tournament attracts him to the Venetian, and what happens next does more than just surpass his expectations.
It makes him reevaluate everything he's doing in Las Vegas.
Related to The Wild Card
Titles in the series (1)
The Wild Card: Unlucky 7s: The Wild Card, #1 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Related ebooks
Death and Modern Kitchens Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsJANUS A Crude Kill Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsGhosted: Nikki Ashburne, #1 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAlaska Heart Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Two Much! Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5The Black Llama Caper Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsRiver Bound: A Sydney Brennan Novella: Sydney Brennan PI Mysteries, #6 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsWish Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Spirits and Secrets Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsDREAMSCAPE Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Cigarettes and Alcohol Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Vegas Burn Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Chronicles of a Vampire Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsBetween the Blood and the Sun Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe River at Night Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5When We Collided Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Radical Gatsby: A 1990's Retelling Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Nightshift: A Novel Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Min-Maxing My TRPG Build in Another World: Volume 7 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsVarkana: Dangerous Gifts, #1 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsDamned Before Breakfast Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMountain Daddy: The Single Dad's New Baby: Mountain Daddy, #1 Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Fools Gold: The Chronicles of Lawmaker August Flynn Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Suspicious Minds: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Queer and Loathing on the Yellow Brick Road Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAura Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSweetwater Promise Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsChristmas Magic Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Black Goat Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLot 39 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Coming of Age Fiction For You
The Ocean at the End of the Lane: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Demon Copperhead: A Pulitzer Prize Winner Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Little Women (Seasons Edition -- Winter) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Priory of the Orange Tree Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Life of Pi: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5It Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Island of Sea Women: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The People We Keep Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5All the Ugly and Wonderful Things: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She's Sorry: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Foster Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Yellow Wife: A Novel Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Pet Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5If We Were Villains: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Finn Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Saint X: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Our Town: A Play in Three Acts Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Dutch House: A Read with Jenna Pick Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5All the Missing Girls: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Body Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Sing, Unburied, Sing: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Shuggie Bain: A Novel (Booker Prize Winner) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5My Best Friend's Exorcism: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Play It as It Lays: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Orphan Collector: A Heroic Novel of Survival During the 1918 Influenza Pandemic Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Nothing to See Here: A Read with Jenna Pick Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A Likely Story: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Kitchen House: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A River Enchanted: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Prodigal Summer: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
Reviews for The Wild Card
0 ratings0 reviews
Book preview
The Wild Card - Stephen Allan
The Wild Card: Unlucky 7s
By Stephen Allan
Published by Stephen Allan
Copyright ©2014 Stephen Allan
Cover Image Copyright ©2015 Jimmy Gibbs
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 1
––––––––
The Las Vegas summer wind was not comforting. It was not like most gusts, where the breeze can make a summer sauna feel like a cool air-conditioned room. It was like opening an oven baking at over 450 degrees and sticking your head inside. It was unexpected, unwelcome and the antithesis of what a soft wind should do.
But it was seemingly the only part of Las Vegas I had grown discontent with since I moved here about a month ago. Vegas: a dream I had prayed for the previous several months, and with my prayer answered, it seemed God had gone a step beyond my expectations.
This evening was no different. I walked outside the freshly-painted brown gates of my year-old complex, the Las Vegas Grandeur, with an appreciative smile on my face, and looked right toward the towering Strip. With the sun setting into the mountains against the backdrop of the brightening neon lights of the Strip, the illumination seemed too good to be true—a potpourri of colors, splashed together against a golden orange background.
Las Vegas wasn’t Disney for adults. Walt Disney couldn’t have imagined a setting as beautiful and awe-inspiring as this, and Picasso couldn’t have drawn a sunset as gorgeous as this.
Change, sir?
I looked left, toward the grey pebbles underneath the bright white sign by the gate to the complex. At the edge of the pebbles, a homeless man covered in a raggedy green shirt that was half-unbuttoned, dark jeans torn at the knees and over-worn brown boots looked pleadingly, his expression barely visible in his face creased and darkened by the Vegas sun. If he hadn’t said anything, I probably would have confused him for a pile of trash. Not because he was trash—his shirt camouflaged with trash can colors, and his skin blended with the exterior of the building.
I grimaced. I hated how our complex was surrounded by a constant stream of homeless people. I knew people needed help, but I didn’t like that I was in an august island in the ghetto. I didn’t want all my friends to visit and get asked for dollars from anything other than the blackjack tables or slot machines.
Here’s a quarter, man, hope it helps,
I said, gently flicking one his way with my left thumb.
The man nodded in appreciation.
God bless you sir, I appreciate it.
Anytime,
I said, waving two fingers at him and continuing on before he asked for anything else.
I got to Flamingo Road and veered left after making sure no cars were speeding toward the complex, heading toward Subway for dinner. The wind blew directly into my face again, adding the usual furnace blast to the 112 degree heat. I felt the sweat form on my forehead, and my shirt collar dampen.
That was one other thing I hated about Las Vegas.
The heat. The unbearable, too-hot-to-be-outside heat. The heat where even if you were sunbathing nude—as more than a few people, male and female, shamelessly did in Vegas—it was still what I imagined hell would feel like.
Nothing could ever prepare you for that heat. And I doubted anyone could ever adopt to that heat. Sometimes, people would claim it’s a dry heat, so it’s not as bad. Don’t worry about it.
That was true, I suspected, for any month that didn’t begin with Ju.
95 degrees without humidity sounded like a gift from heaven. But when it was June or July, and the cacti shriveled up and the desert critters sought shelter underneath rocks by day, the only things thriving were the electric companies.
But I shrugged and laughed as I wiped my forehead. Besides the weather of Vegas, life was great! I was gambling for a living, meeting new girls every night and living and blogging every 22-year old’s fantasy. What was there, really, to complain about?
After two minutes of walking past gravel, palm trees, rusted chain-link fences and honking traffic on Flamingo Road, I made it to Subway and walked in, wiping more sweat off my forehead with my shirt. I looked over the counter and saw Erica, always good for working the evening shift from Wednesday to Sunday. The girl, who couldn’t have been more than 18 years old, was polite, talkative and damn good at her job. It had become routine to pop in at least twice a week to break up the monotony of eating the same chicken and fruit at home.
Hey, will it be the usual?
she said.
You know it,
I said. How busy has it been?
She chuckled and shook her head as she reached down for Italian bread.
Not at all,
she said. It’s pretty quiet around here on Saturdays. My guess is everyone goes to the nicer places on weekends, and comes here after work on weekdays. That, or everyone is still at the pool.
Yeah, that’s where I just came from. It was nice.
Oh yeah?
she said as she grabbed the steak bits and provolone cheese. Lots going on?
Ehh, well, not really. There were a few girls hitting a beach ball around, but I kept to myself. Gotta study poker, you know what I mean? I just wanted to be outside to catch some rays as the day went on so I wouldn’t go insane inside!
Erica nodded.
Toasted?
Yes, please.
She turned around and watched as the timer counted down. I looked around at the empty restaurant, trying to occupy my fidgety mind. If Erica had been camping in the back, I would’ve thought the restaurant was closed. Only the sound of soft elevator music kept the scene from feeling too deserted. Quite the opposite of the Strip at dinner time, I thought.
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BE—
Before the toaster finished its last beep, Erica had it open, and she grabbed the smoking sandwich and laid it in