Bad Blood Book Reviews Novels & Stories

“Harriet will never figure out that a few tears from me were enough to string her along for three whole years. “My brother is even easier to fool. “When I told him to pretend he had ALS, he actually did it. “He spent three years living in that dump with Harriet.” There was unmistakable pride in her voice. “In his eyes, I am far more important than any biological sister. “Harriet lost a lot of blood today. “Honestly, she looked like she was about to die.” She let out an icy snort. “If anyone is to blame, it is her. “She got my parents sent to prison. “If she dies, she deserves it.” Outside the room, Derrick’s hand clenched into a fist. The force was so great that his knuckles turned white.

“I feel the same way. I was just putting on an asshole act to save you from me. I’m madness… The complete opposite of everything that’s good for you. A notorious cartel leader. Murdering and racketeering is in my blood. And then there’s you…” He shook his head. “You’re too innocent for my dark and dangerous world.” I cupped his face in my hands. “What if I’m tired of playing by the rules?” I whispered. “What if I’m tired of being sane? You might think you’re no good for me, but I see the good in you, Adrian. You’re not a monster… You’re not a bad man. I know we’re complete opposites of each other. I know that we met in fucked-up circumstances. I know that I’m breaking all the boundaries I ev

During my three-year-old son's preschool physical, his blood type didn't match mine or my wife's. I had just printed the divorce papers when I suddenly heard my son's voice. [This disgusting man is so stupid. He's raised me, his own little brother, as his son for years and still has no idea!] [Lol, hurry up and get divorced. Once they divorce, I can cling openly to my real mom!] [And divorced men are unwanted anyway. From now on, every dollar he earns will be mine!] My wife was still anxiously explaining, "Honey! I really never betrayed you! Do you really want a divorce?" I looked at my son's tightly closed lips and excited eyes, then tore up the divorce papers instead. "No divorce. S

Walking into the old abandoned building, Carl set Madison down on the ground as he wiped off the sweat on his forehead. He examined her wound with a deep frown on his face and although it was just a little scratch that would heal in days, he was still angry and bloodthirsty. He wanted to harm those that have put her in such a situation. He wanted to hear them cry out to him for forgiveness as he makes them go through so much more than Madison had experienced.

She didn't need to know the gory details. "But he needs to eat too." Cammy's small voice whispered into the darkened jail cell. Her words rendered me speechless. The fucking demon-leech piece of shit needed to eat too-?!! "It feeds on humans, Cameron." I spoke slowly, making sure my innocent little mate understood every word. "Drinks their blood until it's sucked the life out of them. They're fucking murderers Cameron. Don't pity the thing. It's not a man." "Was he...um, cruel to the um,...human?"

he spat venomously “if you want to kill me, go ahead, this slow psychological torture is driving me insane.” “Isn’t it ironic that you hate the very thing you did to me, the very thing you did to others like me. Now you can’t bear it and would rather be dead, you used your position as a psychiatrist to ruin the lives of people. You stab people in the back and slowly watch them bleed, you’d return acting like a savior. You don’t deserve an easy death; I’ll make sure your death is slow and psychologically painful.” With that, the blade slashed through his thigh, hitting his femoral artery, then the abductor revealed the fate of everything he held dear.

A day had passed since the council meeting had ended in blood, and the sun had risen cold and pale over Dravonia, its light slanting through the tall windows of the meeting room. The room had been scrubbed clean—stone floors scoured, rugs replaced, every trace of blood and wine removed by diligent servants. Yet one faint, ghostly outline remained: a subtle discoloration on the stone where the girl’s blood had pooled, a stubborn shadow no amount of water and ash could fully erase.

On some occasions the rare ones where I wasn’t driving I scratched the itch hard enough to draw blood, but instead of the flies, maggots and eggs I expect to fly out I was just met with a dark red and the sweet metallic scent of blood , the wound wouldn’t even I just watch it flow and dry up, before it scabs and the wound heals all in a second. That’s new, I whispered under my breath. I had seen so much supernatural things online, I knew that they were real no matter how people would think they were fake, I just felt something in me say it was all real, so nothing shocked me. What took me by surprise was the possibility that I was one of the supernatural creatures talked about in blueit circ

“This is an ancient word, translated over centuries but roughly means…war.” War?! Of everything in the world, it had to be the one thing she hated. Violence can never and will never be a part of her life or her child’s life. The instructor observed the cold, intensity behind her blue eyes and tried putting her mind at rest. “See…your markings extend further which says a lot more than we know.” “Where did you find these books?” Elira attempted to change the topic. The man took a seat on the edge of the table, and gently brushed his fingers on their thick covers, staring at them like the most precious thing in the world.

My father thinks I spend my nights reading. That’s not entirely a lie. Just not books. This room is mine in a way no other room in this house is mine. The rest of the townhouse is my mother's taste — warm and beautiful and expensive, every surface chosen to project exactly the image the Conti family wants projected. My room looks like the inside of my head. Whiteboards on two walls, half of them network maps, the other half cipher keys I've already cracked. A punching bag in the corner worn to gray leather at center mass. Gun cabinet beside the closet — three weapons, combination lock. My father knows about two of them. I find the thread at 3:12 a.m. A routing number. Buried six layers deep,