2012 Raphael Novels & Stories

~ (Raphael) I was dreamwalking my own dream to get some peace and quiet and let myself read a bit. I never really got much time to myself, running a multitude of Covens and all. So my escape was in my dreams. I had just downed a second glass of brandy, which I had just turned silver, when I felt a presence.

He gestured for them to sit before taking the journal from Emma’s hands. “I haven’t thought about Mrs. Williams in years,” he admitted, his voice tinged with sadness. “She was one of the most extraordinary people I’ve ever known.” Emma leaned forward, her eyes searching his face. “The journal mentioned a project you were working on together. Do you remember what it was?” Raphael nodded slowly. “It was a series of paintings. She called it “But one day”. It was meant to be a celebration of resilience and hope, inspired by her own struggles when you found her contract document from your ex-husband's house. But we never finished it.”

Raphael looked up at Melany with a cold look in his eyes. He sneered, turned around, grabbed a cup of tea and drizzled it on the painting. Melany's eyes widened again. "Raphael, what are you doing? This is my painting..." "This painting has long belonged to me, and it has nothing to do with you." Raphael's voice carried a strong tone of disgust. "Since you say this painting is yours, there is no need for it to stay in my house anymore. Maddox, throw this painting out." Two bodyguards immediately walked in, picked up the painting on the floor, and headed out.

Raphaël entered, two tablets under his arm and a coffee in his hand. “Mon ami (My friend), the old man’s servers are better protected than the Bundesbank vault, but…” He stopped when he saw me, his gaze following mine to the magazine. “Ah. The masterpiece of family propaganda. Are you admiring yourself? It looks good, I admit. You clean up well in photographs.” I ignored the comment. My attention was still trapped on the page. “Rapha…” My voice came out lower than usual. “Look at the boy.”

“Finally, we have a painting of the late king being auctioned off by his Majesty the King. If you remember, back in his days as a Prince, his art paintings were greatly sought after and his painting skill is one of the best in our kingdom.” “With this painting, you not only have a collection from his works, but you also have the face of one of the best kings to have ruled Eliza.” Raphael introduced. “For this item, the starting price is fifteen thousand Elizian Dollars,” “Sixteen thousand,” “Eighteen thousand,” another Alpha shouted. “Thirty thousand!” Antoine’s familiar voice rang out. Just the thought of him keeping Ronan’s work with me made me uncomfortable and I was going to bid for it b

Came to a thought, Raphael decided to used his ability. Raphael, momentarily lifted his body from the ground while he float on mid air. With arms outstretched forward, Raphael casted a spell. "Water creation, Ultimate magic: Raging storm" an overwhelming storm rain drops of water and snow showered upon the ground in massive distance. These water droplets and snow droplets was the very most sharpest amongst the sharpest weapons. The enemies limbs was been castrated from their bodies. But his comarederies whose been hit was not feeling any damaged. Its like a normal storm of rain and snow to his comaraderies. The enemies numbers been lessen in a huge amount. It became par to theirs. Raging st

I kept pondering. "You are such a pretty damsel, Hazel; all through my life, I have not seen anyone with your kind eyes. This is my first time seeing a lady with green hazel eyes. You are indeed a goddess!" He fixed his gaze on me, smiling, but I was all covered in shyness, and believe me, I was just not comfortable. Raphael is not bad-looking; in fact, cuteness is an understatement compared to how handsome he is. I didn't know humans could be this handsome as well. He has a very broad shoulder, and his beautiful dentition is second to none.

Raphael is standing by the fireplace in pajamas, looking like a page out of a high-end magazine with just pajamas. He's holding a cup of coffee, watching me descend the stairs like I’m the main event.

* Rafaels was already there, sleeves rolled up on his black button-down, paint stains on his jeans like he’d been working on something personal. Mid-thirties, intense dark eyes, messy hair that always looked like he’d run his hands through it too many times. He had this way of looking at your work, and at you, that made it feel like he was peeling back layers whether you wanted him to or not. “You’re late,” he said, not looking up from the canvas he was studying under the track lights. “Had to finish the last sketch.” Isabella set her portfolio down and started pulling out the big charcoal drawings. Nudes. Her own body mostly, from different angles in the mirror at her apartment. Raw stuff.

"The man was born in Nottingham, 54 years ago. He is the eldest child with a twin sister and is currently living in Turkey following his husband. His father is a neurologist, and his mother is a psychiatrist. Many years dead. Raphael himself is an architect who graduated from Cambridge University. He married a woman from Bristol and has one daughter named Aurora Smith." From his seat, Tristan was also enthusiastic to hear what Joseph explained. Even though he had previously heard about Raphael's background directly, he wanted to make sure again whether what Raphael had told was the same as what Joseph would say today. "Raphael first became friends with Andrew John Quartararo when they both s