Artist Novels & Stories

“ Are you ready to go, bellissima? “ I nodded my head and we started walking on the pavement to my motel. “ What do you do for a living? “ I asked to break the ice. The man was clearly rich. He was wearing Armani from head to toe and he had an expensive car plus a driver. “ I own many businesses. Usually, I invest in collapsing businesses and bring them to their feet. “ I nodded my head in understanding. “ What about you? “ “ I’m an editor. I love languages and I thought I’d put my skills to good use. “ " I'm sure you'll find another good job. " Before we knew it, we were outside my motel. I turned to face him and wondered what the right thing to say was. " Is 9 a.m. alright with you? " " Ye

“You’re awfully direct for a stranger.” He didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “You’re right. That was forward. Consider it… curiosity.” I tapped my notebook with a finger, half-smiling. “I was trying to write. Or sketch. Or something in between.” His interest sharpened immediately. “You’re an artist?” “Trying to be,” I corrected. “Most days it feels like I’m just scribbling nonsense.” “I doubt that,” he said, and the conviction in his voice startled me. “Someone who creates… always leaves a part of themselves in their work. That’s never nonsense.”

"I never had anything to do with you. Using your visitor's room for a sweet sex today should even be appreciated. Even your house belongs to me. It is ruled by me and this room is only ten feet farther from my palace." "What do you mean?" I asked, speaking with rough sobs. "You're not his type..." Cassandra bragged, as he held Damon's hands with a cuddle. "Haven't you heard that even your poor mom has agreed to separate you from Damon if you don't perform well in the Academy? Are you blind to see what Damon owns and controls in the entirety of Agolia?" "Well, I don't have much to say." Damon interrupted, stalking around the room with an unseemly authority. "I'm the Alpha of the Silver Sword

“YOU HAVE TO LET ME GO, YOU TRUNK OF A MAN!” A low, sinister chuckle leaves his lips at my lame insult, his wide shoulders shaking slowly at the motion. “My name is Santino Ricca.”

My name is Kim Ahri Gaumond. I am a simple employee who usually spends most of her time working, doing charity work, or attending treatments. I never really had a chance to give myself a break since I am not an outgoing person. For the first time in my 30 years of life, I decided to finally give in to my dream of having an international vacation not related to work. I may not be outgoing, but I still wanted to experience a life of leisure in a faraway land.

“You’re not Architect. You’re not Balancer.” “No,” she agrees. “Those are all… rigid.” “Then what are you?” She considers me for a long moment before answering. “A survivor.” Blake mutters, “That’s never ominous.” She ignores him. “Long before the Architects started pruning worlds, there were people who slipped between the cracks. Observers. Interveners. Mistakes that didn’t die.” Ethan’s eyes narrow. “You’re saying you don’t belong anywhere.” “I belong wherever I decide to stand,” she replies coolly. “Tonight, that happens to be Midnight.”

she threatened vehemently. I simply chuckled at her words and took a step back. "Just so you know, my name is Henry, a former beta of the Lycan Pack, and I want you to remember that I am watching you. If you dare do anything stupid to Sierra, I will make sure you regret it all. Not only that, but you will despise everything about yourself and realize that you are not fit to be a Luna, not only in the ghost pack but in every pack," I warned sternly. I walked away as I noticed her growing anger, and before I could turn to the other side, I heard her yell…

With or without my consent or approval. Sighing, I leaned back into the chair and whipped out my phone. I didn't know what else to say to the driver. And there was this artist I had been viewing his works in the media. He was amazing. Asian portrait artist Kimura Hakira. He had this odd way of tugging at heartstrings with his portraits. I scrolled through his site, viewing the art works he had uploaded when I came across a poster. "No way," I whispered, clicking on the poster. "No freaking way!"

i say in the mind link "I sense them, micheal and few more warriors are on their way to you as we speak" he answers "Ok" i say cutting the mind link as the first rogue appeared in sight I tilt my head looking at him with confusion. It's common knowledge that rogues are banished wolves who aren't apart of any pack for various reasons. Most of them go mad and become violent creatures while some are able to survive and keep their sanity, but this one before me is different. I can sense his bloodlust and i can see in his eyes there isn't a shred of humanity left yet he's doesn't give the impression of being irrational, to put it simply he's like a functioning psychopath. He smiles kindly at me b

Carminati made the call to let Jordan know Aaron was waiting. A few minutes later, the office door opened, and Janette greeted him with a smile. “Aaron!” she said, as if she hadn’t seen him in years. He honestly had no idea how old she was, but she appeared to be in her mid-fifties. Still fit and capable of decapitating a Vampire by any means necessary, though she’d always been known for her axe-wielding ability, the Hunter Leader was one of the most kind, considerate people he’d ever worked with.