Blackwood Churches Novels & Stories

A small pause hangs between us. “It’s a little disappointing that my mate managed to resist my completely naked body long enough to walk all the way back to the house.” My gaze drifts downward before I can stop it. His hand slides along the center of his body. It moves slowly up and down the length of his erection, clearly meant to draw attention. The yard behind Blackwood Manor is surrounded well enough to feel private. Thick trees from the Shadow Woods close in around the property, hiding most of the land from anyone outside.

“It’s like a library inside a library. This shouldn’t be architecturally possible.” Kieran gave a faint, proud smile. “Magic and masonry can achieve wonders when they work in concert. This is the Blackwood Archive. And hopefully somewhere in here,” he said, his gaze sweeping over the countless volumes, “are the answers we need about what you are.”

Then I'd lost custody, met a psychopath who probably still wants me dead, gotten shot in a cemetery, woken up in a luxury prison, escaped through a hospital window, crashed a wedding in bloodied hospital gown, and now discovered that my dead mother had been married to one of the richest men in the world. And that man was my father. "Blackwood," I said suddenly, the name hitting me like a lightning bolt. Vincent raised an eyebrow. "You know the name?" Know it? Everyone knew the Blackwood name. It was like asking if I knew the sky was blue. The Blackwoods weren't just rich. They were American royalty, old money so deep it had roots going back centuries. They owned banks, real estate empires, t

DAMIAN BLACKWOOD In the three years that passed, I showed more and more of my Blackwood character. The basement became a second home to me, and I navigated the place so often that I could make my way through with my eyes shut. The other room it ended in was only one of the many Blackwood storerooms to hide our weapons—I was told that it was the oldest of them, connected to the Blackwood family home when it was built a hundred years before, yet it was my favourite. It filled me with a kind of spirit that made me feel as though I was fulfilling history and about to make some of mine.

The suburb name Blackwood originally came about in the mid-1800s because of the dark coloring of local native trees, although the Blackwood tree was not one of them. Blackwood Forest is easy to miss. It's on the sharply winding Main Road between the bustle of Blackwood and the relative calm of Coromandel Valley, south of Adelaide. But fortunately, the turnoff is not sharp, so you can manage even if you only see it at the last moment. At one time there was a large sign on Main Road to mark the park's previous purpose—the Blackwood Experimental Orchard, but that has long gone ever since what happened four years ago.

He always did. By the time we reached the facility, the night had turned bitterly cold. The wind felt like it was tearing at my skin, and the lights of the city below flickered dimly, offering no warmth. We stood outside what had once been the heart of the Blackwood legacy—a place where the monsters who’d made us were created. It wasn’t the largest building, but it was the most significant. Every operation, every twisted, horrific thing Reagan Blackwood had ever dreamed up had been born in the depths of that building. And now, it was where we would take our stand.

POV: Maya The Blackwood estate sat hidden in the mountains, three hours north of Blackstone. The road twisted through dense forest until suddenly the trees parted to reveal a gothic mansion that looked like it belonged in a Victorian horror novel. Gray stone walls covered in ivy. Tall windows with heavy curtains. Turrets that reached toward the cloudy sky like accusing fingers. The place radiated old money and older secrets. "This is where your mother grew up?" Jaxon asked from the driver's seat.

"I brought gifts, Dexter. Several crates of the finest silver weapons from the Blackwood forges are in the courtyard." "I know that's not why you're here," Dexter cut him off. "You wouldn't travel two days just to deliver scrap metal. Talk." Silas exhaled, his playful smirk fading into a grim shadow. He leaned back and stared at the high ceiling. "Blackwood is under attack by vampires, Dexter. Not just some feral rogues—organized troops from the Eastern Wing Clan. They burned our granaries and slaughtered two border villages in a single night." Dexter went rigid. Vampires rarely dared an open assault on a pack as strong as Blackwood unless they had massive numbers or an ambitious new leader.

Then, through a break in the trees, we saw it. Another campus. But this one was different. Blackwood Community College had been utilitarian, a collection of practical, blocky buildings. This place was… pretty. There was no other word for it. It was a small, private liberal arts college, its architecture a mimicry of Oxbridge grandeur. Quaint, ivy-choked stone buildings with peaked, slate-tile roofs were arranged around manicured quadrangles, now gone wild with overgrown grass and hardy weeds. A graceful, albeit dry, stone fountain stood in the center of the main quad. Tall, ancient oak trees, their branches skeletal against the gray sky, lined the cobblestone pathways. It felt like a postcar

Annoying. The image of her brushing over the canvas crossed through my mind again. I could feel the adrenaline pumping from my veins to my loins, no matter how hard I tried to shake it I couldn’t deny…..I was deeply attracted to Aurora. I threw the dirt on the ground and headed on home. The Blackwood mansion was uphill, few minutes away from Midnight Bay. It was an old home built by my ancestors, the first settlers of the land until they were chased away by hunters. The Blackwood mansion was magnificent in all its glory. It’s grandness spread across the rolling hills, a white two storey building with a roof that reached towards the moon. It was old, old but radiated nothing but the wealth of