Blood Money Book Review Novels & Stories

Hearing that, the neighbors started cursing. "She already wired the funeral money and still won't admit it." "That really sounds like Lydia's voice. How cruel! Three people are dead because of her!" "The world has gone mad. She was speeding, and she's blaming the victims for the accident? I saw the video. She hit them before they even stepped on the crosswalk!" I turned to Maeve. "You told me the car was scraped and asked me to transfer ten thousand for repairs. How did it become funeral money? Besides, I've been sick the past few days—that voice is clearly edited!"

“What is it this time?” “Why are you spending so much on an RV? Do you even have that money?” I didn’t answer the first part and gave him a simple “Yes” I decided not to explain much and just opened my new phone and showed him my savings his eyes widened. “That's...” he gulped”..a lot of zeros…what did you do, rob a bank?” Ii am… well I was …” I tilted my head, looking for the word.” I was paid to kill people” I shrugged.

I screamed, feeling on the verge of losing my mind. Blood was dripping from my fingers, but I didn't even feel the pain as I gripped the blade. Mom didn't even glance at my injury. She nodded firmly. "Yes!"

"I didn't want to allow you to weasel out of this one, McKaine, like you have our last three scheduled appointments we have made. It seems that every time we set an appointment to meet, something comes up that requires you to cancel. We need to discuss the terms of..." "I already told you that I have no interest in selling MMK." Micah cuts him short, "Not now, not ever. I made this company myself using..." "Mob money, McKaine. Blood money. Don't try to make it sound noble." The man cackles. It is an eerie sound, neither kind nor warm, but cold, calculated. It is the mocking laugh of a man who sees himself as superior. "At least my company was funded honestly."

Eyes… deep crimson, the color of wine freshly spilled across marble. I didn’t just wake up in a different body. I woke up in a different world. And not just any world. One I knew far too well. I had read about this place before—in a book called Blood and Moonlight. A gothic fantasy where ancient vampire courts ruled the night from silvered palaces, where ruthless werewolf packs prowled the wild forests, and where an uneasy truce held between fangs and claws… until it inevitably shattered. It was a story of war. A story of betrayal. A story where love was as fatal as any blade.

" I don't think he will need payment" " what do you mean?" Who would donate such a quantity of blood for free? " He is your daughter's father.." With that, he is gone. ***** hi everyone, read and comment if necessary. I will love to hear your opinion on my book though it isn't the best I will need a little motivation and inspiration to push me harder.m

“Do you perhaps know who owned this?” “No, of course not.” She waved her hand dismissing what I said. She looked at the diary again and then sighed, lowering her voice. “But that, my dear, seems to be a blood book.” I blinked. “A… blood book?” “Yes.” She folded her hands behind her back, he tone grave and quiet. “It’s a very old kind of magical artifact. Dangerous to most, useless to many. A blood book is a record that only reveals its contents to its creator or to a direct descendant of the one who made it.”

"Don't expect a single cent from me. Let's see how you're going to pull this off." Brian chimed in from the side, grinning. "Exactly! No money, and you still want to go to college? Winterford Institute of Technology? Keep dreaming!" I ignored him and pulled a heavy metal box out from under my bed. Inside was a stack of cash. Ones, fives, tens, and twenties, with a few hundred-dollar bills mixed in, piled into a small mound. Every dollar I had ever earned. Paid for with sweat, bruises, and whatever pride I had left, starting from elementary school.

Chapter 15: Blood Money The discovery sat in my stomach like lead. I spent the entire next day moving through my work on autopilot, but my mind kept circling back to those wire transfers. Hundreds of thousands of dollars funneled to my parents right before and after our wedding. The timing was too precise. Too convenient.

Its pages were yellowed and brittle with age, covered in an elegant, spidery script that spoke of centuries of secrets. "This is the Blood Ledger," Finch said, his voice as calm and deep as a forest pool at midnight. He adjusted his gold-rimmed spectacles, his long, slender fingers tracing the embossed, blood-red title on the cover with a historian's reverence. "It is an unsanctioned, unofficial, and utterly terrifying record of the world's most dangerous freelance hunters, assassins, and enforcers. They serve no council, pledge allegiance to no species. Their only loyalties are to coin and carnage."