Book In Broad Daylight Novels & Stories

And what is happening in there town? They don't understand at all, and why this horrible act is happening in their town? All of them stood there stretching there head in confusion; trying to figure out why people are dying, and who is responsible for this terrible action, from that day forward they called it BLOODY DAY! To me, this is a big mystery that can't never be solved. ( This Story continued) ATTENTION READERS: This book have different series book 2-9

Once I'm in place he pulls out the chair next to me and takes a seat as I start stacking papers and flipping open the history book. I am all too aware of the shifter next to me. He's so close I can smell him. Mint and honey flood my nose, it's so overwhelming my head pounds in protest. I take my glasses off again sighing as I massage my temples. "Damn migraines." I whisper to myself.

It looked small on the outside, but once you got in, it was like there was no end to it. ‘What’s this?’ I whispered into the dark, pointing my flashlights at it. The power had gone out about twenty minutes ago, ever since the storm started, leaving me to the safety of candlelight and my phone, which was already on five per cent. Great. I pulled aside the small black book, which looked both old and worn, with careful hands. With a frown, I flipped open the first page to see beautiful handwriting. ‘To whoever finds this, know that my death was not an accident….it was planned.’

I stood frozen in the middle of the parking lot. The neon light from the nearby diner flickered, casting a sickly yellow glow over the asphalt. Bryan was leaning against his car, smiling and tossing that glowing silver eraser as if it were a common coin. He looked so normal, so safe. But the woman stepping out of the black car, the one who looked exactly like an older version of me, was anything but normal. She held the leather-bound book like a shield. On the cover, the words The Final Draft were written in gold that seemed to pulse like a heartbeat.

"What are you doing?" "Erh. Claire. I..how are you? What are you doing so late?" She stuttered. "I should be asking you why you're coming in so late ma'am. You left us alone. We were worried about you" I said. "The Library was locked, I had to wait a bit" she responded. "I am sorry if I kept you waiting," she said. She looked into her bag and brought out two books: Beyond Pardon by Bertha Clay and The Day of The Jackal by Frederick Forsyth. "These books would make my week, I had to wait to get them" she curved a quick smile.

I laid back on my bed and went through the book calmly, it was an interesting thriller novel and I certainly can’t wait to unravel whatever mystery that was to come. The book had locked in, I forgot to glance at the clock, the minute I looked at clock, it was already evening, it was 7:44pm. I gasped and kept the book aside, I placed my leg on the floor and got up. That instant, I realized that there was actually no light, the power was out and the only reason I could see was because of the aid of my werewolf vision, I grumbled and immediately changed into a more fitting casual wear for going out. I combed my hair and applied my favorite perfume, after that, I drank a bit of water and headed

"Time of Darkness, excellent choice." She had a calm voice say from behind her and she almost jumped in her skin. She should have been used to this by now. They moved really quickly and their steps were usually silent. The intruder was right in front of her in an instant. Delice. Something twinkled in her eyes as her they roamed the book cover. "They were dark times indeed." Zezi looked at the cover, it was just a black hardcover with 'Time of Darkness' written in a large zig-zag red font.

And then Donato stopped. Because the shadows finally peeled back enough for him to see it. A stone pedestal alone. Centered beneath a beam of pale blue light like moonlight trapped underground. And resting on that pedestal… was a single book. Black, old, bound in rough, darkened leather. Its surface cracked like something had clawed it. And around it circling like frost drifted a faint, ghostly mist. Donato's breath left him in a shocked, trembling exhale. "The Black Great Book…" he whispered.

I hadn't anticipated seeing Ethan on my way out. Luckily, the window was only open a crack. I slammed it shut—sealing the past away with a single motion. My screen flashed: Ethan Black. I stared, then pressed ignore. Since they’d confiscate all devices on landing anyway, I cracked the window and let the phone slip from my hand, vanishing into the roadside grass. No trace. No tether. No return. The plane lifted through the twilight, and Manhattan dissolved into a blanket of starlight.

Moonlight poured through the tall window and turned the room silver and gray. I walked straight to the bookshelf and pressed the loose volume on the third shelf from the top. The panel clicked open with a soft snick. The safe sat behind it, a small iron box with the key still on the chain around my neck. My fingers shook when I fitted the key into the lock. Rowan stood close enough that I felt his warmth at my back but he didn’t touch me. He let me do this alone. The door swung open. Inside rested the book, exactly as I remembered. Midnight-blue leather with a small crescent, worn smooth from years of handling. I lifted it out with both hands, the weight felt heavier than it should have.