Novelas y relatos de Bone Collector Author

After calling me several times, Ian finally got my attention. He stood on tiptoes, trying to see the book's contents. "What's it about?" "Finance," I replied automatically. I'd grabbed the book randomly and hadn't even looked at it. After standing in one position for over an hour, my legs and neck were stiff. I closed the book and stretched. "Collector's Guide to Jewelry and Precious Stones." Ian read the cover as I closed it. I: ...

Daniel looked at him. "The spines," Adrian said. "The colours and the sizes — they are not the same register as the structural concrete and the glass. But they are both the honest showing of what is inside. The building showing its structural bones. The books show the intellectual bones of the collection." He paused. "They have the same kind of honesty." Daniel looked at the shelves. He thought about the bones room as the room that showed what held things up — the structural and the intellectual simultaneously, the concrete column and the book spine, both forms of the honest bones.

From that, three followed. By the time I decided to excuse myself through my classmates who were barring the way to the lockers, the floor were already swamped with vomit and blood. It was so gross. Gross enough to make everyone forget that the thing inside Ashley’s locker which made her puke was twice grosser than what’s covering the floor. Inside the safe, between her fashion magazines and her make up set, a big, bulky, and hairy arm was inserted. It was folded in half, with a bone poking out of the shoulder, and wilted fingers like flowers in a graveyard facing out.

she called out, her heart hammering against her ribs. ​"He's fine. Mostly," a familiar, lazy voice answered. ​Seraphina spun around. She was back in the Blackspire Keep, but not in her bedroom. This was a massive, underground vault filled with gold coins, ancient statues, and racks of forbidden weapons. ​Arion was leaning against a pile of gold, tossing a small, glowing coin into the air and catching it. Kael was a few feet away, slumped against a stone pillar. He was conscious, but he looked like he had been drained of all his energy.

Seraphina & Declan ✦ 18+ — explicit language, graphic violence, torture ✦ The basement smells like concrete and old water and the particular kind of fear that has been marinating for several hours. I know that smell. I've been in rooms like this before — not many, and not as the one asking questions, but enough to understand the architecture of them. The single hanging bulb. The drain in the floor that doesn't try to hide what it's for. The chair bolted to the concrete, which is a practical detail that tells you something about whoever built this room and how seriously they took their work. Declan built this room. Of course he did. The man in the chair is named Caruso. Nico Caruso, forty-thr

With his voice lowered, he said, "If you have something to say, say it directly. Beating around the bush isn't your style." Daniel replied, "What I mean is, Kristen is already dead. So, whose bone marrow are you planning to use to save your sweetheart this time?"

Our players tried to stop him, but he didn’t stop. My heartbeat raced when Zack approached him from behind and attacked Kaelen. My throat tightened. Without any warning, the memories of that night rushed forward. Kaelen had cradled my remains in his arms as though I was something precious, even though there had been almost nothing left of me. Then he buried me himself. And after that... He had hunted down everyone responsible for my death. I had seen it all. Because I hadn't disappeared when I died. I remained behind.

Mine was packed away in the locker I paid for with my membership. As I stepped into the brightly lit room, I blinked against the glare. Automatically checking the far spots for other people or dangers, I made my way across the utilitarian space and stopped in front of my locker. The little string that sat snug and whole over the opening confirmed that no one had been in my stuff since the last time I was in here. Smoke & Bone was owned outright by a very hermetic man who had a voyeur fetish. He locked himself away in a very Sleeping Beauty style in the top two floors of the massive reclaimed country home.

He’s pouring me a glass of wine I didn't order. Maybe it will make my blood more palatable when he drains me. I’m beyond caring. A glass of wine seems like the least I’ve earned tonight. "I have no power over the actions of the hunters, but a site can be encouraged to hold no findings. I employ people who are very good at removing evidence. It's most of my payroll." "By dawn?" "Do you know what kind of monster it was?" "No. But I have a description. A twenty foot tall skeleton built from human skeletal remains. Silver bolts bounced off it. There were wolves involved with taking it down."

​The first piece of the Crown. ​Lyra’s heart skipped a beat, the blood freezing in her veins. The Bone Crown had never been forged from five fragments. It had been forged from six. And the sixth had never been mounted—it had been left behind, buried beneath the First Anvil, waiting in the dark. ​The nail rose level with the stone floor. And as it drifted forward, every single dead Crown-Bearer slumped against the cavern walls slowly, sickeningly lifted its head. ​The faceless smith whispered a single, final command into the gloom: "Run."