Books Similar To True Blood Mga Nobela at Kwento

My eyes widened, noticing the blood that was all over him as if he had just bath in blood. Was it his blood, was he hurt? My eyes took him in from head to toe and I couldn't stop myself from feeling what I was feeling. It was my second time seeing such heavy blood and I wasn't sure I liked it. “ You, you…” I couldn't find the right words to form a sentence, my feet curled on the floor as I looked back into his forest green eyes, which were looking red like those of a vampire. Was he a vampire? There were many things I wasn't aware of but that didn't mean I was ignorant.” What are you doing out here?” His deep voice sounded a bit different, maybe because he didn't sound as harsh as he used to

What business did Allison have with a witch of that caliber? My gaze drifted away from the list, landing on the chaos of the desk. Only then did I truly see the mess. It wasn’t just papers; it was a library of obsession. Documents were scattered everywhere, burying the wood surface. I picked up a few books, reading the spines. ‘Tales of the Undead’. ‘The Physiology of the Damned’. ‘The Half-Demon’s Plight’. All titles about vampires. They weren’t particularly strange books for a Hunter to possess, I had read most of them myself during training. Know thy enemy. It was Rule Number One. When you hunted apex predators, knowledge was the only equalizer.

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He really was surpassing all her expectations. Their food arrived and this time his men joined them in the living room as they debated her show and ate their fill of the pork ribs and side salads. She was surprised at their candor and their arguments about vampire abilities. “No, Dren, these ones don’t glitter,” Besnik said with a serious look on his face and Inara couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her lips. “No vampire should ever glitter,” Dren said with big eyes. “These guys are not what you’re used to. They’re really badass,” Inara said and they all looked at her.

CHAPTER EIGHT: He left, Again CHAPTER 8: He left, Again On this wedding day, I feel as if I'm attending my own funeral. As if a key part of my being is slowly fading, an emptiness grips me. Perhaps this part of me died a long time ago, but I'm only now feeling its absence. I never imagined happily ever after or romantic weddings. Instead, I was drawn to stories of hideous beasts and demons. Such memoirs, I believed, carried more truth than fairytale ending.

“Is it a brothel business like the one you used to run?” Ben looked serious, took a sip of his coffee, then met Alea’s gaze. “I’ve never been involved in that kind of business. Women are diamonds, Alea. They shouldn’t sell themselves.” “Hmm… is that so? Then what about a woman who has three mates? Isn’t that the same as being cheap? Without even selling herself, she’s already cheap. If a prostitute gets paid, a she-wolf or she-lycan with three mates serves three men without getting paid.”

] [It's been hard, and though I don't regret it, I can't help feeling sad about the dreams I never got to live. Those sentences hit Keith like a punch to the gut, and he had to breathe deeply to find his balance. "Meow." Out of nowhere, a cat's cry drew their eyes. A little white cat had slipped into the graveyard unnoticed. She was pure white, with eyes like sparkling sapphires, absolutely stunning. Keith was taken aback by the cat's gaze. Its emotionless slit pupils were staring right at him, in a way that felt eerily human. He stared back so long, he could almost see me in its eyes.

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She was catalyst, not center; a spark caught between flint and steel. She should have felt used. Instead she felt powerful. She reached for her wine at last, swirling it, watching the surface tremble like it had its own heartbeat. “I don’t mind storms,” she said quietly. “But I do require they don’t pretend to be blue skies.” Both men froze. Ethan exhaled first — like someone had handed him truth wrapped in velvet and blade. Damian’s eyes darkened, interest deepening into hunger for the kind of complication that ruined simple men.