August Visitor Novels & Stories

“After the thaw begins but before the passes open fully. Fewer travelers. Fewer eyes. Fewer chances for accidents.” August had exhaled, relief and wariness mingling in the breath. He had expected resistance, delay, perhaps even refusal. Instead Winter had given him a date. A frame. A boundary. “And the name?” August had asked carefully. “You’re still going with…” Winter had turned then, face unreadable in the shifting firelight. The scar over his left brow stood out starkly, a pale slash against the shadowed planes of his cheek. His storm-gray eyes had met August’s without warmth, without hesitation.

He beamed and replied, "You chose well, Caia. August is a good man." The following morning, August dropped Pastor Basil at the church, and then he drove his car to the Taylor mansion. Fortunately, the gate was not locked. He parked his car in the driveway, then he knocked on the door.

Adorned with silver-grey face brick and high arched windows, this would be the home of her dreams. August comes to a stand-still in front of the villa and looks over at her. “Your present is inside, I had to come to pick it up at a friend's house. Sorry, babe,” he says to her apologetically and she feels somewhat crestfallen. For a minute she thought August bought this home for her. “Come, let’s go get it,” he says and gets out of the Maybach, walking over to her side of the vehicle, he opens the door and takes her hand. “They’re not here for the holidays, they’ve gone overseas for the holidays. The wife can’t stand the cold of Ainsdale over Christmastime. They also recently welcomed a baby,

August practically threw their keycards at the front desk woman, and the two sprinted out the front door and down the hill as though running from a stampede. The clock on Aiden’s phone struck eleven fifty. The bus would be leaving in forty minutes. As he dashed with August down and out onto the main road, he prayed they would make it in time. . . TBC Written by Authoress Kamara

Her little sister couldn't make it o n time because her plane was delayed due t o bad weather in Canada, where she had been living for seven months. Las Vegas was the sixth city h e had visited a n d h e had scheduled four performances there. When his agent told him that touring America was a good idea, August hesitated for a moment, knowing that America was full of good illusionists. h e thought it would be like taking sand t o the beach. But h e was surprised t o discover that h e was very wrong. The American public loved him a n d they showed him their fascination night after night by selling out all the locations in which h e appeared.

I said out loud, emphasizing my words carefully. "Hmmm... Okay o. But that is not I heard or maybe I did not hear right. But whatever it is, when they come we will all know." Mum said as she resumed picking the beans. "And why are you picking beans mum?" I asked, curiously. My chucled softly, and resumed picking the beans. "We have to entertain our visitors, our August visitors when they come. So I'm picking the beans, so I can start preparing it as soon as possible." Mum replied in between laughters.

was her argument, so I yielded. We were supposed to meet at nine but it's now a quarter past ten. August is late. I entertained the idea that maybe she decided not to come after all, but I don't think she's that kind of person. So I waited. It did give me the time to ponder how much I hate theme parks and how I've never been back to one since I was eight. It's the kind of crowd I despise. Especially the little kids who are always so excited with the most daring rides but would often come out crying or vomiting or both afterwards.

that made me angry and even sadder. That was all before I met them though before I met him. The Omishores had just moved into town when I met them. I was on the beach that early morning, waiting for Zaynab. It was during the holidays and the beach was full of people, not the few rich people who normally came but since it was during a holiday, even the lower class people could make time to come to the beach. They weren't busy working their asses off just to get paid scraps at the end of the day. Everybody on the beach was staring at some people and I initially ignored them until I heard one of the girls on the beach whisper to another:

Dona's POV I stood in the lobby of August's hotel with my backpack slung over one shoulder, waiting. It was Monday morning, early enough that the lobby was mostly empty except for a few business people checking out. I'd set aside the anger I felt after the call from my mother yesterday. If I was being honest, I couldn't give a fuck about it right now. I just wanted to see August. The elevator doors opened and he stepped out, dressed in a grey hoodie and jeans, his black hair still damp from his shower. When he saw me, he stopped walking for a second.

“August recognized the description. The good news is that he’s just passing through. He comes through every fifty years, working for Zeus.” “You don’t suppose he’s here because of Patrick Carter’s death?” Cameron wondered as he pulled up out front of Rhett’s shop. Rhett stepped out of the now-dark shop and locked the door behind him. “It’s possible. Maybe he’s seeing what Aislen knows about it and that’s why he picked her up. She doesn’t know anything,” Heath added with certainty. “Nah, they didn’t really keep in touch,” Cameron agreed. “So, he’ll probably move on in the morning. You don’t suppose he used that thing that vampires can do, that screws with human’s heads and makes them forget,