Book After The Storm Novels & Stories

She said, and I lifted my gaze, wondering what she meant by that. "He has nothing to lose..." I mumbled, and she smiled. "Yvy, you are his second chance, mate, and his first one rejected him and put him through hell... Yes, he is allowed to be terrified..." Stormee paused, "And I know you must be terrified as well; this realm has not treated women fairly for a long time..." Storm held my hand, and immediately, they stopped trembling.

Harper’s POV The storm hit MoonShine like the moon goddess herself was pissed off. Rain slammed against the windows of the old library, thunder cracking so loud it shook the shelves. I sat at the long wooden table, papers spread out in front of me, trying to focus even though the wind howled like it wanted to rip the roof off.

She staggered out of the hall. Outside, heavy rain poured. She walked into it without noticing it. The cold raindrops hit her face and ran down like tears. But she could not shed a single one. She did not know where she was going. She wandered through the streets without direction. A car stopped beside her. The window rolled down. Marcus’ cold, sharp face appeared. “Get in.” Yara did not answer. She dragged her heavy body through the rain. Marcus frowned and said more firmly, “Get in.”

The clouds above were churning low, like a storm had forgotten how to break. At the bookstore, the front light flickered once when she unlocked the door. Then again when she stepped inside. The air was stale in a way it had never been before, like the whole shop had held its breath while she was gone. Shelves creaked softly behind her as she turned on the desk lamp. She froze. A stack of books near the window was toppled — somehow all collapsed outward in a perfect spiral. No wind. No draft. Just… rearranged. She picked up the top book. Dreams in the Soil. She didn't remember shelving this. Its leather cover was warm in her hands. Almost too warm. She opened it, just to check for a bookmark

I pick them up and turn to leave then stop after tasting the blend. Who taught you this recipe? I saw it in the cabinet, last night after cleaning up she says passing a small booklet to me, I put the things down on the counter and take the booklet and scan through it, it’s Stormie’s hand writing with page after page of recipes and things I like and my dislikes. I can’t help but smile and pass it back to her, keep making my meals according to what is written in this book, please and thank you. Yes sir I take my food and leave, Rob takes me to the office and when I get up to my floor Jeff is already there although the others have yet to arrive.

He has to get to his child. We can push the door open far enough for me to slip into the opening. It is handy to be small sometimes. I enter the room, seeing the cause of the obstruction is a bookshelf. It must have tipped and lodged itself against the door during the earthquake. I tip the bookshelf back against the wall, letting Brixtius have access to the room. A room with furniture strewn all over the place. "Eurydice!" I yell out, hearing her cries from under a fallen dresser. Brixtius moves with speed and lifts the wooden furniture like it weighs nothing.

And somewhere in the quiet, his hand found my waist again, slow and unconscious, fingers resting there like a claim he didn’t know he was making. I didn’t move away. I closed my eyes and let myself feel it, the warmth, the weight, the fragile miracle of Dawson Lane sleeping through the night. In the other room, Liberty’s laughter had finally faded into silence. Outside, the world stayed dark and uncertain. But in this bed, for a few precious hours, the storm inside him quieted. My heart, stupid, faithful, terrified, beat like it had finally been allowed to speak.

After a long moment of silence, his rough hand reaches out and violently rips the burlap sack off Chika's head. CHIKA WHITMORE My eyes slowly flutter open against the harsh glare of the floodlights, revealing a profound, bottomless wave of sadness deep within my pupils. My gaze watches the family of three tightly embrace on the edge of the dock, comforting each other's wolves, completely oblivious to the fact that my life is being left behind in the dark. My teeth clench together until my jaw aches, violently struggling to contain the raw storm of emotions threatening to rip my chest apart.

Against The Storm By: Joel Racheal ©All rights reserved Meet Cassandra Valdez A hardworking, gorgeous, twenty-eight-year-old redhead. She is a wonderful daughter to her parents and a good sister to her brother, Jake. When she goes on a trip to Andalusia, she doesn't expect to meet Princess Emelia and is quite surprised when she is asked to be a surrogate for Emelia and the prince. Due to unexpected circumstances, she accepts the offer, little does she know the prince is no knight in shining armor.

I brushed off my thoughts and went scanning other books. But before I did, I look on my surroundings. There are a few students who were reading just like me. They are also wearing casual clothes for the meantime. No way, I'm going to stay here alone. Who knows ghosts or that shapeshifter might popped out here? I sighed out of relief and went back reading. "The History of our World," I read the title written in the ash gray book cover. This is the World of Tempest. It is once a dark turbulent, stormy continent everyone might see.