Book Review The Twelve Novels & Stories

ANAHERA The last time I felt like this was ages ago. The last time I felt…carefree, happy, buzzing with energy. All of a sudden, I was twelve again and on the ice rink, defying my brother by sneaking out to play with the other kids on the frozen pond a few distance away. Except this time, it was with Noel and we were playing hockey. Hard. I sent the puck sliding into the goal again. “That’s…that is foul play. You had me distracted, Hera,” Noel panted, grabbing another puck. “I can’t believe you’re this good.”

Completely unguarded. And that, more than anything else, unsettled him. Because he could feel it. In his chest. That deadly spark again. He scanned the cover, thumb following the title, then back at her. "Why this one?" "It's a book about sadness," she told him quietly. "But not the kind that cries out. The kind that settles into the space between us." Some dark, wordless flicker showed behind his eyes. He nodded once, palming the book into his coat pocket as if it was evidence in a case he wasn't ready to break yet.

Miguel, on the other hand, looked for it on the Internet, in various online stores and auctions. Unfortunately, it turned out that this book had only a few copies and was therefore extremely difficult to find. Most shops either did not know about its existence or never had this book in their collections and only heard legends about it. It could mean two things - either this book simply did not exist, or it was so dangerous that only the initiated had it in their book collections. Maria rejected the first option because she trusted her dreams and gut feelings now even more than before. Therefore, Miguel believed that the second option must be true, and it gave him hope that if they could get

But the briefing was twelve minutes, and twelve minutes was something, and something was better than nothing. ---

Lars was too hungry to hear any explanations anyway, considering he barely talked and just focused on gorging his creamy potato salad, caprese sandwiches, onion and beef empanadas, and gulped them down with fresh orange juice. Eventually, the group came into a lull as they were full of good meals. The wind softly passed by, brushing against the foliage and carrying fresh smell of the forest. Lars leaned against the pillar and was about to close his eyes again, craving for more sleep. However, his crave for answers was much greater. "So... now can you start explaining?" Vayu blinked rapidly for a while. "Ah, yes, right. We're part of the Twelve Scions. We protect this lovely island from being

Soren's words were a bullet straight through my heart. That clean future was the one escape we had earned after twelve years of fighting and bleeding, of clinging to each other since our days on the streets. And just like that, he destroyed it. He couldn't even be bothered to tell me to my face. Inside the club, his drunken men continued their discussion. "That Abby would never give up this life of luxury. Without the Boss's protection, she wouldn't last a day out there." "Exactly. After all the good years the Boss gave her? No way she'd walk away from that."

he winched, making an ugly crying face I've seen every time he does this. I love him, but he was overwhelmed with his emotions. I inwardly rolled my eyes and groaned. "I'm going," I grabbed my car keys from the table near the door, unhooked my jacket off the rack, and headed out. I felt the cold air of December in California brush against my skin and quickly out of my warm coat. Once the hot weather died, it finally hit the chilling season of the year. Winter.

11:54 11:55 11:56 11:59 12:00 Once the clock stroked 12, a shiver ran down my spine ,my body was aching for a release and he wasn’t in sight yet. I heaved a sigh,as the clock stroked 12:20 a few minutes later. The library had a few people in it but nevertheless I decided to go round placing books back where they were meant to be. I took off my jacket and started going round, placing books back, I got to the back row of the library , it didn’t have a enough light, so people hardly sat there to read, there was a book on one of the tables. It was a Novel by Ana huang famous author for the twisted series, it was Twisted hate and the open page was one the steamy hate sex scenes between Jules and

--- Ayana stood in Nelson's living room in the afternoon quiet after Cat left around 2 and looked around at the space that was now, temporarily or permanently, her home. Bare walls. Careful shelves. The couch had barely been used. The kitchen with its two mugs on the table — she'd left them there deliberately, some superstition about the morning, about not erasing the evidence that something had shifted. She went to the bookshelves. Ran her fingers along the spines. Social work texts. Philosophy. History. A worn copy of *Meditations* by Marcus Aurelius with the corners bent back. A Bible — different from her father's, less used, the kind kept for reference rather than comfort.

"The manuscript contains details about the twelve individuals and their powers." As they pored over the words, a vivid picture began to emerge. The twelve were not only formidable adversaries but also a diverse group with an array of extraordinary abilities. The names and powers of the twelve were etched into their minds, solidifying their understanding of the threat that loomed over their pack. Claire's eyes widened as she read aloud, "We have Shadowmaster, the master of darkness, capable of manipulating shadows to conceal his presence and create an impenetrable cloak of obscurity."