Book One Blood Novels & Stories

Blood from my nose had run past my lips and chin, smearing across my cheeks and ears. The front of my shirt had long since lost its original color. It was soaked through with blood. The pool beneath me had spread to Derrick’s shoes, sticky and dark. “Harriet?” Derrick’s voice trembled. He called my name again. “Harriet?” Mom had been celebrating Sheila’s safe return. When she saw Derrick storm toward the storage room, she followed him. The sight before her made her scream. She covered her mouth and staggered back a step. Dad had been comforting the frightened Sheila. After hearing the commotion, he rushed over as well.

I close the old book and read the inscriptions on the grimoire dark green cover. 'BLOOD IS KEY.' They weren't just inscriptions. They were instructions. Immediately I understood what I needed to do. I pricked my thumb with my ear ring and poured droplets of my blood on the blank pages and I was shocked by what happened next. The previously blank pages were no longer empty. Suddenly writings in crimson blood formed filling up all the pages. Dixie was right, they weren't hidden, just waiting for me to discover.

We all knew we had entered a new era, and for the first time, we were truly the Blood Moon Pack. *This is the end of Book 1 of Blood and Moon. Book 2 Love and War. It will focus on Kyle and Sabrina's love. Adam and Desire will be active in it too. I hope you enjoyed Adam and Desire's story, and I hope you will read and enjoy the remaining two books. Thank you for your love and support. THEY ARE ALL STANDALONE* My next project is Luca's inferno, please follow me on social media same as my pen name. I hope to hear from all of you on Luca's Inferno ( available only on goodnovel)

She opens the book and a roach crawls out. I shriek, jerking my knees to my chest. Esme raises a brow. “You’re a wolf, and you’re scared of a roach?” “What’s a wolf without a wolf?” My smile is bittersweet. “Don’t do that,” she scolds. “You wolf will return. Now, when the rumours came, I consulted the books and some friends.” I try not to let my own thoughts scare me. “What did you find?” “You know, I’ve lived through almost seven decades, and I know a bloodline that had white hair. Moonblood.”

“Yes, mater. I will serve ye until my last breath.” I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I pulled my thoughts away from Jones’ past. I only knew this because I’d gone through the history books kept in the cellar, stumbling upon a journal from the time of Grace Bloodsworth. Her tone had sounded regretful as I brushed my hand over the dark red-ink, my eyes eating up the sorrowful words. I knew without a doubt that she had use her own blood to write it.

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 1 "𝐴 𝑤𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑... 𝐴 𝑏𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑡..."

I was too sleepy when I read that book earlier, so I didn't finish it. I have a lot of questions about what is happening now. Noah followed me into the study, and as he watched me rummage through the bookshelves, he came over and reached out to pick me up. "I want to be with you, but I don't want you to be like Angelina, I can risk my life with anything, but I won't risk your life." Noah said to me gently. I got the book and looked at it carefully. Finally, a piece of paper was found in the cover's compartment, which recorded about the awakening of the Blood's natural power.

It was scorching like a flame and if auras could be tasted, hers would definitely be bitter. I shuddered, walking over to the first aisle to check it out. The first book that caught my attention was Blood, Pawns and Obsession. It was a dark romance by Rylie Martin. I had one of my projects on hold because I wanted to read this book and get into the head of the psychotic male lead, so I would understand him better and be able to execute my plotline to my taste. The grin on my face unconsciously widened, and I brought the book to my nose, sniffing it in.

Too much fire and not enough air. She sat in her study, lights dim, the rain still tapping against the old glass. Before her lay a blank leather-bound book. She dipped the pen in ink, then paused. She wrote: For my son. “The world you inherit is broken. You are not born to fix it. You are born to survive it. This is not a cradle song. This is a manual of war.” She titled the first page: THE BOOK OF BLOOD She stopped. Closed her eyes. Listened to the wind.

I exhale loudly and make to snap the book shut but the sharp end prick my finger. With a hiss under my breath, I press my finger tightly as tiny drops of blood trickles down. The blood drops on the page and like a mystery, words begin to form, unraveling themselves. I watch with shock, my heart pounding against my ribcage at the swirling letters that aren't there before. As soon as it starts, the strokes end. I glance warily at my finger which has healed instantly and with my pulse spiking, I read the words; ‘Rare is the blood born beneath the crimson gaze of the moon,