Novels by Zea Drew

Date = 8 AugustPlace = San Francisco (Black Pit)POV - EnriqueJust as I reach the entrance — just before I run into the kitchen — I hear Rosa’s voice from inside.It’s not loud. But something in it stops me cold. I lean against the wall and peep through the open door.“Sky … garota (Portuguese = girl) … you don’t understand. It’s complicated.”There’s a tremble in it. No, not just a tremble. A rawness. Like something bleeding behind her words.Damion’s gone. Mel’s gone. Axel must be waiting down the hall. But I can’t move. I can’t stop listening.Aria’s hand flies to her heart like she’s trying to keep it from falling straight out of her chest.Sky’s eyes shine — not with tears, but with that fierce, armored fury that only shows up when grief gets tired of being quiet. She barks a laugh — sharp, humorless, the kind that makes the hairs on your arms stand up.“Oh, I’m dating complicated.”Aria elbows her — gently, but enough to remind her she’s not alone.“Tone,” she whispers.Sky ti

Date = 8 AugustPlace = San Francisco (Black Pit)POV - Enrique“I need some food,” Jackson mutters like he’s issuing a court order, not stating a basic human need. His voice is low, sharp, and tinged with that ever-present irritation that makes you want to punch him or feed him. Probably both.“Thank heaven,” Miguel exhales dramatically two steps behind us, throwing his head back like he’s just crossed a desert. “I thought I’m never tasting food again.”Poor bastard. Being my twin’s unofficial emotional support minion must be exhausting. And they’re the same flavor of broody, which means any day now they’ll either start a bromance podcast or feature in a crime documentary titled ‘Deadly Men With Even Deadlier Silences’.But he’s right. I’m starving. My stomach is eating itself.The smell hits us before we reach the entrance — fresh-baked bread still warm from the oven, garlic butter melting into a sinful substance, and something thick and meaty that smells so good it could persuade a

Date = 8 AugustPlace = San Francisco (Black Pit)POV - AriaThe kitchen hums with low chatter and clattering pans — right up until Sky lifts her hand to her mouth and goes perfectly still. Her eyes lock on the doorway, and the warmth in the room drains like someone cracked a thermostat to freezing.“Fock,” she breathes.A shadow fills the entrance.“I fucking told you to stay in bed and rest,” a deep voice growls.My shoulders jump. My spine snaps straight. Sky just smirks at the storm walking straight toward her, slow and wicked, like she’s been waiting for this exact moment.Slowly, I turn to look at him — I haven’t seen him up close since the crash. Not really seen him. Just a moment here, a second there, a brief blur at the funeral.He looks like absolute shit. Well, as close to shit as a hunk like him can get.Dark shadows bruise the skin beneath those scary eyes. His hair is a mess — more than usual — and he’s pale in that gray kind of way that comes from sleepless nights and t

Date = 8 AugustSad days pass more slowly than others.Place = San Francisco (Black Pit)Everyone’s settled in.POV - AriaDrawn on by the scent of roasted garlic and warm bread, I slide down the hall. The huge farmhouse kitchen feels almost too small for the crowd of women packed inside, sleeves rolled up, hands busy with dough and spoons and secrets. It’s alive with chatter — the kind that rises and falls like music between bursts of laughter.Some are young, faces glowing with mischief — others move more slowly, practiced and sure — all under the sharp eyes of Rosa, the matriarch of this warm, flour-dusted kingdom. Pies cool on the windowsill, pastries brown in the oven, pots simmer on the stove, and gossip fills every space the scent of baking doesn’t.“You must be careful,” I hear Lili’s great-grandma, Alice, caution gently. “You kids are a little wild.”She’s Alberto Garcia’s mother. And also Ash Blackburn’s grandmother. The widow of George.I don’t know the full sad story — jus

Date = 4 AugustPlace = San Francisco (Black Pit - family graveyard)POV - EnriqueAria’s voice sounds up, thin but strong. “I don’t think she’d want us to be sad, you know. Kiara.”I swallow hard. My throat burns. “She’d want a fight. A scene. A hell of a lot of noise. She’d want us to get the bastards who did this to her.”“We will.” A small smile tugs at Aria’s lips, though her eyes are wet.“I’m gonna miss her,” she whispers.“Yeah,” I say. My chest tightens. “Me too.”We reach the edge, and the little cemetery comes into full view. The wrought-iron gate, small and simple, stands half-open. Inside, headstones are planted in neat rows beneath the shade of cypress trees, their roots curling through the earth like old scars. The grass is trimmed, the lavender is blooming, and the paths are lined with soft, white sand.And at the center, waiting, is the raw wound of a grave not yet filled. The earth is fresh, black, and raw — carved open just for her.A small cluster of mourners stand

Date = 4 AugustFour days of mourning her death.Place = San Francisco (Black Pit - family graveyard)Laying her to rest with the others.POV - EnriqueAugust in San Francisco is a month of restless fog. Early mornings are soft-edged and salt-damp, the air thick with brine, seaweed, and the faint tang of sourdough rising from unseen kitchens. Bougainvillea burns pink against weathered Victorians, and gulls wheel and scream above the piers.Mid-days are slow to warm up, but when the sun cuts through the mist, the city smells of roasting coffee, grilled corn, and warm bread drifting from corner bakeries. Lemons hang heavy in backyard trees. Blackberries tangle in hidden alleys, staining fingertips purple.The city is slowly shifting toward autumn, but August still clings to its feast of ripeness — a season fat with sweetness before the long dry light of September.A September Kiara will never see.A narrow cobblestone footpath winds lazily through the orchard, uneven and old, each stone

Date = 1 September (about 1 year later)Place = San Francisco (Grimm house)Melaena Blackburn = 21 years oldDamion Grimm = 22 years oldXamos = 1 year old (born 15 August the previous year)(You get to meet the little girls Leyla, Lili, and River in Book 2) (Ethan is Thalia’s little 10 year old brother)POV – DamionDamion: I’m sure that from lack of use, my sperm grew legs and looks like frogs instead of tadpoles! But it’s gonna be fixed before the night is over (winking-face emoji)(hot-pepper emoji)(eggplant emoji)I touch my crotch with a groan, abstinence from Mel is definitely not my thing. These last weeks have been torture, being in bed next to the woman of my dreams, and the closest I got to touch her was a hug. Fuck, a day without sex with Mel is a fudging long time, two weeks is a fudging excruciating fierce eternity … a month … that’s just plain torturing hell.These four weeks without sex were even worse than the six I had to wait after the baby was born.This no-sex shit

Date = 15 August (about 6 months later) = Enrique’s wedding (Book 2)Place = San Francisco (where the haunted house was)POV - Damion“Hey, son, where is Mel … she needs to get dressed?” Judging by the sound of her voice, Mom is panicking. Why is everyone so on edge? I mean, since we left the club Enrique phoned once … the other bridesmaids three times … and this must be Mom’s fifth call. Hell, it’s just a wedding. And not ours. And there’s still time.“We’re still at the building site …” I calmly explain … again. “We got what we came for.” And what we came for is a tiny piece of blue jewelry… for the bride.Mel got a blue angel charm to hang on her new sister-in-law’s bracelet today as her ‘something blue’. And apparently, it’s very important — a crucial part of the wedding. And that would be why we are back here at the haunted house construction site instead of getting ready at Inferno.“We’ll be there,” I pause slightly to calculate the time it will take us to get there, “in about t

Date = 14 FebruaryPlace = San Francisco (different places)POV - MelaenaI rush through the door of his house with my 3 followers to see Luke’s face lighting up from the exact sofa where the experiment took place.He jumps up and down excitedly before literally throwing me the next clue. Damn, will I ever get used to the Grimm boys and their wild ways? All 3 of them are over-energetic cocky bouncing blobs of sexy cuteness. I wonder how poor Haley manages sometimes. Does she ever get tired?I know for a fact that Luke got called into the principal’s office twice this week alone, and his brother was no better when he was in school. And as far as I understand from Alejandro’s stories, he too was the same.But right now the littlest devil’s naughty hazel eyes are waiting anxiously for me to open the envelope.I know you're hungry – go grab some food at the place where I declared my love openly for you in a song – and where you called my name. “Let me guess — we’re going to have lunch at

Date = 14 FebruaryPlace = San Francisco (different places)POV - MelaenaSuddenly the looming darkness of the house we’ve just stopped at is not that dark anymore.I know the things and lives we’ve lost here will always leave a hole. My hand rubs over my tummy. But the sadness will go away … we all have a bright future ahead … a wonderful happy one.I will help every San Francisco boy to find happiness and a love that can heal them. A love like ours. But knowing my boys it’s not going to be an easy task.A red fire truck from Station 34 is parked next to the house and the men are standing around as if they’re waiting for us.“Can I have the keys to the car?” one fireman asks politely. Alejandro hands it over, knowing that he must be working with Axel.“I’ll make sure to get it back to your place.” He walks away and I’m not sure how we’re going to get back to my place, but it seems that at least Kiara’s car will make it there.I walk through the weathered door to find Jackson sitting o

Date = 14 FebruaryPlace = San Francisco (graveyard)POV - MelaenaI shift my legs into a more comfortable position where I sit on the freshly-planted green grass covering the small heap of the grave site, and then I place the red flowers against the newly erected marble tombstone. A few tears roll down my cheek and I wipe them away anxiously with my hand. I didn’t know it was possible to feel so devastatingly sad losing someone you didn’t even truly know. Fudge jackets, it’s so unfair.Hatred for Harry, for Darren, for Lucinda … for the whole fudge-upped Brown family … boils through me. But most of all I hate my grandfather. How can one person be so cruel? Even after Alejandro explained that Alexander must have been a psychopath, someone without any feelings, I still can’t comprehend it totally.I put my hand against the cold stone that’s now the only indication of the life that was lost and buried deep in the earth underneath. And for what? Revenge? Money? Power?And in the end, Harr

Date = 23 JanuaryPlace = San Francisco (UCSF Mission Bay Medical)POV – MelaenaLike a black-and-white movie in color, I see Kiara smile at me, holding a picture in her hands. I don’t want to look at it, but I can’t seem to look away. Her mouth moves but no words come out. A blob on the gray picture starts beating in rhythm with the noise in my ears. A heartbeat. A baby. My baby. Damion’s baby.Beep! Beep! Beep! I open my eyes. A green light blinks … on; off; on; off.It’s bothersome. A turn signal. The car rolls, tumbles, crashes … the indicator light flashes alone in the darkness. The air is voided with sound. I scream for help but it’s only in my head, no sound escapes. Through the shattered window I see a man standing in the shadows, like a ghost, watching … his face locked in terror, his gray eyes filled with guilt. It’s dad.Beep! Beep! Something drips on the bonnet of the car like single drops of rain. Blood. My father is standing next to the wreckage, his face full of pain,