Casanova Book Novels & Stories

My pensive scowl melted off and a panicked one replaced it as I began to straigheten out the page, immediately realizing that it will never be as good as I found it. Diab- Cassius, I corrected immediately. Cassius' image glared back at me from the rumpled pages of the giant book. My anxiety had gotten the best of me and I had gone back to claim the library book, reading a particular line over and over again. Cassius Marcus Ashford. Status. Dead.

She also happens to be the most notorious one although technically, both she and Jessie are both notorious but Cassie here takes the crown. She isn't exactly your idea of a typical young girl. She's a twenty four year old tomboy and also a proud lesbian, who describes herself as a free spirit who has no interest in slaving away her life just because she's an adult. Personally, I think she's just lucky to be born into a wealthy family cause I can't imagine a person with her mentality surviving in this cruel world. "How did you get in?" I ask confusedly. "Your door lock passcode is as predictable as you are brother. Does that answer your question?" She replies.

His hands were still shaking. "Damian," he said again. It is softer, almost a whisper. I waited. He opened his mouth; his jaw trembled. Then he looked away. "Nothing. Never mind." He walked back to the couch. His footsteps were slow. Heavy. I walked to the table. I pulled out the notebook and opened it to a fresh page. Under the words "Caleb is the pipeline," I wrote new lines. Find the scarred man. Turn him. I closed the notebook and slid it back into my jacket.

He winked at me. Cas was definitely a flirt. It had come out more after Ares left. I didn't mind the sweet attention he was giving me. In fact, I could really use it. Damon was still in the forefront of my mind with that stupid video. I know Ares can tell something is going on, as well, but thankfully he isn't meddling. For once, he had listened to me. I can tell it won't last long though. The stupid book Sebastian gave me felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket. How to ask for help 101. I was so embarrassed by it when Cas gave it back. I still don't get why anyone would want to take that book anyway. It's not that valuable.

- Do you think he has a mistress? And can it be the blonde in the middle of pole dancing? – I asked, now even more curious. - Cindy? He shook his head. – Well, Heitor Casanova is engaged. And the probability of you finding his bride in Babylon is almost zero. But of all his cases, Cindy is the most serious. - The cases? Well, I'd heard about his hot cocksucker syndrome. But that Cindy girl treated me like she was the real owner of everything, believe me.

And underneath it all— The lingering irritation that Draven had been standing there when she made that choice. Cassian forced the thought away. Ava walked slightly ahead of him now, the strange book held carefully in her hands. Even through the dim moonlight the symbols on its cover seemed wrong. Not dangerous. Just… old. Older than wolves. “You feel it too, don’t you?” Ava asked quietly. Cassian glanced down at the book. “Yes.” “What do you think it is?” Cassian exhaled slowly.

Also do check out my other books, all are COMPLETED: First Sokolov Brothers book: Bride To Be; My Boss Is My Tormentor; CAGED- A Dark Billionaire Captîve Romance; His Broken Princess; His Steel Princess.

Her cognac-dyed eyes widened and her lips were parted from the sequel, unable to close again. What is this? Remy you rascal, what the fuck have you been reading? The first title that jumped up was that of a bright red-covered book with the words "Conversation Casanova" written over it in capitals. And that was the most decent title... or book. The other ones had titles that shall not be said with contents that shall not be mentioned. Is this... this is how he got Jasmine? No way. These... W*****d books were better than these. Ryder couldn't look away from the books on her laptop's screen, her lips twitching, reconsidering some decisions she had taken lately.

But this was not what Caitlin wanted: she needed to heal Scarlet, not kill her. As she finished yet another book and slid it aside, with still no mention of healing anywhere, she began to feel a sense of despair. She lifted the final book on the stack, a small, leather-bound volume with a red spine, entitled De Fascino Libri Tres by Leonardo Vairo. Caitlin summoned her knowledge of Latin, and knew that translated to: Three Books of Charms, Spells and Sorceries.

Adonis shouldn’t be touching me, not in front of him. “That,” Adonis sounded, “is the capo of Chicago Outfit—” “Matteo Rossi,” I whispered under my breath. The man who could ruin this entire mission for me.