Alexander Hawthorne Novels & Stories

Minutes later, Ichabod could hear a swift movement behind the shelves and out came a short man in a black tail coat and a large hat which made him look like all those wizards you see in movies like Harry Potter. “Ah! If it isn’t my old friend.” Johhny said cheerfully. “It has been a while since I last saw you. Are you having nightmares again?” “No.” Adams replied, “I would like you to meet someone.” He said, “this is Ichabod Nuel.” Johnny laid his eyes on Ichabod and scanned him from head to toe. A serious smile cracked upon his lips. “Ah. I can see you haven’t come alone young man.”

AUSTIN _____ The hum of the servers in my basement was usually a comforting sound. Predictable. Controllable. Unlike the restlessness that had been chewing at me for weeks. I, Alexander Thorne — or Austin Kaelen, if you wanted to dig up ancient history I’d buried deep , didn’t do restlessness. I did calculated moves, quiet domination of my little kingdom here in Havenwood Creek. This town was mine, even if its inhabitants didn’t fully grasp the extent of it. They saw the wealthy, reclusive businessman. They didn’t see the wolf.

Alexander let out a sigh of relief and allowed himself a moment of relaxation before making his way back to the hunting party. Alexander kept the encounter with the rabbit to himself, not wanting to admit to anyone that he had allowed a potential catch to escape. He was adamant in his refusal to harm innocent animals and would not hear anyone who suggested otherwise. He chose to keep his quickly expanding empathy as his own personal secret, only allowing it to be shared when he wanted it to be.

It was hard for him to believe she had been a high powered New York City District Attorney. When she told him she had quit her job to become a romance writer, Alex had been unimpressed. He enjoyed murder mysteries, especially ones with lots of steamy sex, and he’d written occasional columns for the two Postmaster’s Association magazines, The Postal Advocate, and Postmasters Gazette. But a girly romance novel was the last thing Alex would ever be interested in reading, and after seeing the address label on the last package he pulled out of the sack, he knew no one else was going to be reading it either.

Opening the door, Christiana stood in front of her. "I forgot my handbag and umbrella at your house." "So sorry for the inconvenience." Her voice was laced with remorse. Staring at her, Daisy Hunter said," What, No, it's really okay…I too forget my stuff in people's homes." Daisy Hunter said, smiling gleefully, exposing her perfect dentition. Stepping into the dimly lit room, Christiana spotted her handbag and umbrella, grabbing it, she thanked Daisy and stepped out immediately.

She tried to relax and clear her mind. Nathaniel pointed out certain buildings and told her their history along the way. She had to admit that it took her mind off the stone. She enjoyed the scenery as they drove into the countryside. Nathaniel had told her that Barnaby lived in the woods and had no neighbors for miles, so she wasn't surprised by the countryside they saw. She also wasn't surprised when they turned down a well-maintained dirt road.

He looked at Nathan before extending his hand for him to shake “my apologies, I haven’t introduced myself, Alexander Grimaldi, son of Elijah and Sofia Grimaldi” Nathan nodded, shaking the man’s hand. The two of us made sure to keep ourselves under control so as not to raise the vampire’s suspicion. Alexander’s eyes were fixed on me for a few seconds before looking at Nathan and taking a step back as he removed his hand “your wife looks like someone that I used to know, a person that was very close to me” “I take it that she was a good friend?” Nathan asked. Alexander smiled and shook his head. “A lover, at least, I liked to consider her that” he said, nodding at me “it was a pleasure meeting

Chapter 1 ALEX P.O.V The picture looks even worse on paper. I stand at the window of my office, thirty two floors up, clutching the Commerce Today newspaper as I read through the publication. Below me, the city keeps moving. People hurry along the sidewalks to get home. Everything continues normally, indifferent to the quiet mess in my life. "Hawthorne's flopped collection." That's the headline they chose this time. Of all the ways they could have said it, that is what they went with. "A flopped collection"

But the room is dark and it was quite hard to spot them in this state of scenario. Well, he’s the Alpha King after all. He’s got power a werewolf under him doesn’t have. “Just some accidents from where I came from, Your grace. It was a place full of chaotic, unstructured and unfinished houses and constructions that are prone to accidents. Unfortunately, I was one who was bruised by a piece of wood, Your grace.” I then laughed softly. He squinted his eyes then walked past me. The Alpha King draped the tiny fabric sheet over my shoulders.

“I have to admit, when I heard about you fucking a demon, I expected a smarter woman. You know, someone who can actually deal with the pressure of being in the presence of a dark one like that. You can imagine how surprised I was when I first heard that you were here in the basement.” “How the fuck?” I asked, turning to look at my parents who avoided my eyes. His eyes hardening as he glared at me. His eyes were void of emotion, and he said nothing for a few seconds as he studied my expression. “Don’t worry, I was just as surprised when I found out about you.” He said, looking at Annalise for a few seconds before turning his attention back to me. “Alpha Alvize, Alpha of the Midnight’s Pack at