After We Collided Book Cover Novels & Stories

Artemisia had briefly forgotten that that day wasn't normal, she's starting to realize, and think, that maybe she's not the one who's going crazy. The girl approached the shelves and Helga's voice danced again in her mind. "The navy blue cover book will tell you a story, I can't tell you which one, only the book is entitled to that." Artemisia didn't understand, but soon found the book near the second door. It was a heavy book, but not as thick as expected. It had a glow reminiscent of sunbeams touching the greenish water of a river or lake. It also had nymphs drawn on the cover and side of the leaves.

Theo lunged forward and kicked Joel away. "Get the hell away from Aurora! Don't you dare touch her with your filthy hands!" Joel, eyes bloodshot, charged forward like a madman and yanked off the white sheet covering me. My mutilated body was exposed before him. From the knees down, my legs were nothing but mangled flesh and shattered bones, the stark white of my broken limbs protruding in a grotesque display. Joel froze in place, unable to utter a single word.

But when she pulled it free, her breath stopped. The book was unlike anything she had ever seen. Its cover was bound in leather so dark it seemed almost black, though in the right light it shimmered faintly with hues of deep crimson. Strange symbols—curved, jagged, and foreign—were etched into its surface, pressed deep into the hide like scars. No title marked its spine. A lock, thin and ancient-looking, sealed its pages.

For a moment, he felt relaxed unlike earlier where he felt the world was over. Suddenly, a roar of engines shattered the calms. A sleek black sports car sped up behind him, its headlights blinding. The driver was reckless, weaving dangerously towards Jayden's car. Heart pounding, Jayden instinctively jerked his hand back inside and sharply veered into the second lane to give the speeding car room.

Aubrey looks up at me with a small smile. “Hello.” “What, I don’t even get a hello hug?” “No, sit down or go away.” Why does she insist on pretending she doesn’t want me around? I nod and sit across from her. Aubrey sets her book down. I take a peek at the cover. There is a shirtless guy with a tie around his neck and a woman in front of him in a white dress shirt, only a couple of buttons fastened. It must be one of those steamy books she is reading. I find it interesting. I didn’t think it would be her thing. I don’t comment on it.

Warning: Explicit sexual content, dominant/submissive dynamics, rough sex, pain/pleasure dynamics. 18+ only. Maya had been thinking about this appointment for seven days straight. Seven days since she'd walked into Ash Kane's tattoo shop for a consultation. Seven days since she'd shown him the delicate mandala design she wanted inked on her inner thigh....high up, dangerously close to her pussy. Seven days since his dark eyes had traveled slowly up her body before meeting hers with a knowing smirk.

When I woke again, Luca was beside my bed, still wearing the same blood-stained shirt from the night before. His face was pale, his eyes swollen. “You’re okay,” he said softly, like he was convincing himself. “Both of you are okay.” I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. All I could do was look at the tiny bundle in his arms — our child, sleeping peacefully against his chest. For the first time in months, I didn’t feel anger. Just exhaustion. And a strange, quiet ache that didn’t know which side it belonged to anymore. When we were discharged a few days later, he insisted on driving us home.

As soon as it landed it lifted again My hips jerked forward on instinct, the softest part of me brushing against that scorching heat between his legs. Friction sparked through me. I felt overwhelmed and my eyes rolled back from the simple drag of him against me. I pushed lightly at his chest, trying to get space, trying to think. But he didn’t budge, didn’t move an inch

*Depth Before Reach* is published in June. The timing is, as things often are in the second life, not planned but correct: the twins are due in November, which means the book arrives in the world five months before they do, which means the book has its own life before the next chapter of everything begins. The cover is clean — white, the title in the same font as the Bosch Serra website, Cristina Bosch and Valentina Serra listed as co-authors in the order Cristina insisted on: alphabetically, because the book belongs to the practice and the practice belongs equally to both.

The demon smiled, then said his label like it enjoyed the sound. “Smiter,” it crooned quickly. “Lunch, lunch, lunch.” It sprang towards the coach but instead, It hit the Hilux on the bonnet—six legs a tangle of knives and weight. Metal folded with a wet shriek; the radiator collapsed into a shape no manual admitted existed. Tyres skipped and bit; the ute fishtailed.