Chan Thomas Books Novels & Stories

"The new students... they can set the type, and they can code the nodes, but they can't feel the 'Gap' between them. They don't know how to listen to the silence in the ink." ​ ​I walked over and laid a hand on his shoulder. He had Damian’s height and my father’s hands wide, steady, and perpetually stained with a faint trace of indigo. ​"Your grandfather spent his life guarding a vault," I told him. "Your father and I spent ours destroying one. What are you going to do with the space we left behind?" ​Thomas finally looked at me, his eyes bright with a clarity that made me feel both proud and terrified. He reached into a hidden compartment in his desk and pulled out a small, leather-bound bo

"Something worth killing for." Sera's mind flashes to David Chen's words. Connor's journal. He gave it to Thomas Crane. "We need to search Thomas's house," she says abruptly. Dante looks at her. "Why?" "Because David Chen told me Connor kept a journal. His last entry said to find me if anything happened to him. Thomas was holding it." "Thomas is dead. His house was cleared out weeks ago." "By who?" Dante hesitates. "The council. They said they were securing the pack property."

“I’m surprised you’re even willing to leave your territory. Let alone choose to come to mine. Aren’t you afraid I’ll try to keep you there?” “And what? Start a pack war? Or lose my pack just to keep me?” “Gods, how did everything get some complicated?” Thomas tiredly threw his arm over his face while his brain became bogged down with complications and politics. “That’s it enough. I can’t think anymore. I’m going to sleep.” “You do that. I won’t be reading much longer.” She dimmed the lights now and read the book on her phone for a little while before she too stretched out and took a nap.

Grabbing some cheese and lunch meat and tossed it to Chester. Thomas popped open the bottle of beer as he made his way toward his desk. He flopped into his chair in exhaustion as he scanned his desk. Thomas had books of magic, old and new. He had old charms from his grandmother and two major pieces that came from his mother’s collection that was set up in his bookcase.

The next night by the fire outside stood Rio, Lucien, Claude, and Thomas. “I’m heading out to gather more recruits. We’ll need as many as we can get and I know some ol’ soldiers that owe me debts. So I’m off to collect,” Thomas said. “Be safe, brother!” Lucien said with a heavy voice. “Always!” Thomas picked up his bag and disappeared into the darkness. A little while later. The underground chamber off to the side of the camp was silent, except for the drip of water echoing off stone.

Dane The Alpha's court was a crucible of shadow and torchlight, the air thick with wax and treachery as I sat, Lusia warm on my lap, her shift whispering against my thigh. The council gaped, their hands still aloft, shuddering in the smoky haze after naming Thane Thomas, his ring burning in my pocket like coal. The chair was incriminating, yet before I barked out orders, the door slammed open, and there he was: Thane Thomas, striding in with a swagger that grated on my nerves, jaw offset by the scar, pale eyes glinting like a snake's.

Shane explained. “So? What does that have to do with anything?” Dean asked. “She’s you in female form dumbass.” Shane mocked. “OK, so I found three authors that fit your girl. And before you freak out you should know that some writers will change how they look just enough so that people that don’t know them that well won’t recognize them to protect themselves from there crazy fans. But since you’ve been starring at her for the last couple of months I figure you would be able to recognize her.” Karen said. And showed Dean and Shane each of the authors she found and their bios.

" umm..... I was waiting for more than five minutes and you still didn't open the door after three bells, so I feared whether you're okay or not '' his earlier raised heartbeats were now slowly turning peaceful, in just a few seconds he was covered with sweats when it took her longer to open the door. negative imaginations lingered around his mind, one of those was ' what if she slipped in the bathroom being unconscious ?' his subconscious mind was willingly imagining this kind of stuff to scare the shit out of him. The remainder of 'she is pregnant' was hitting him again and again. and a sense of talk, she is his responsibility, as the apartment is his. but he thanked god a million times wh

Devon POV: Slumping on my seat in my office, I sighed deeply. This was the first time in the thousands of years I've lived that I'd think about someone so much. The most annoying thing was that my thoughts weren't occupied by a female, but a male at that! " I'm homophobic, for goodness’ sake!” I yelled and smashed the wine filled glass I was formerly twirling. I ran my fingers through my hair, praying to the goddess that he'd leave my thought, but soon got interrupted when the door was slammed open.

We were practically invisible, ghosts in the corner. I leaned towards Thomas and whispered, "Is he always like this?" "On days like this, I would recommend a good book, Ms. Walton. I once finished the entire Canterbury Tales in one day, if that tells you anything," he responded, amused. Time seemed to stop in that room. We only lasted another ten minutes before giving up and sitting in some chairs in the corner. Thomas produced a pack of cards from his pocket. He smiled as he handed it to me. “If you’re at all interested, I think I’d enjoy playing something other than solitaire for once."