Novel & Cerita Coup De Grace Book

I watched her full breasts bounce with each thrust and looked up quickly as she moaned wantonly at her approaching orgasm. "I love you Grace, forever," I growled softly and buried myself as her walls quaked against my sensitive flesh. I spilled my seed once again. I thought briefly about how many children we would be blessed with when she sat up wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me down for a deep kiss. I barely registered the sword getting buried into my spine or heard the gut wrenching scream of Grace as she rolled me to the side and fought off the crazy eyed human that had severed my spinal cord. I watched Grace screaming at the young male human asking why he'd done it and he s

I was defeated. She cleared my desk, dropping every book and bible to the floor, I fought the urge to pick them up as I sat her up on it. She smiled, putting her arms up. I pulled the dress over her head, leaving her exposed. Her nipples hardened from the cool air, and I moved closer, brushing my fingers over them. As a teen, I had my fair share of women, but none of them struck me this way, not even the woman I spent years married to. I dropped my pyjama pants and fisted my cock, it was so hard it was pulsing, leaking with pre cum. “Put it in,” Grace ordered, her voice laced with every ounce of sin I wanted to taste.

Charlatans! The back room was large. He searched, until he found the book, he searched for. The book was massive, covered in a thick layer of dust. The cover was locked with a handle that was shaped like a figure with elongated arms, he forced the lock. Nothing happened, he wasn't losing hope. With one movement of his hand, he removed the layer of dust.

I took it inside and opened it, only to find a collection of mementos from my time with Sandra. There were letters from when she first confessed her feelings, the couple's headbands she had bought for us, photos from our trips together, and even the lipstick-stained page commemorating our first kiss. As I looked at these things, memories from the past slowly returned to me. Nevertheless, it didn't matter. Sandra and I were over. I tossed everything into the fire pit and set it ablaze, turning the physical remnants of our memories into ash. As I watched the flames flicker, I felt a strange calm wash over me.

he asked, tightening his hold as he swiftly glanced at Serena. Grace’s lips quirked up, her eyes conveying absolutely nothing. She knew that a day would come when her own blood would attempt to kill her. “I see you are nothing like your father.” She clutched the book tightly. “Dorian, the book!” the girl gasped out. Grace cursed under her breath. She tried to break free, but her son was quick. He snatched the book from her hold while the other stayed on her neck. She understood that the opportunity had slipped away and that if she stayed for long, she might just be killed. Therefore, summoning all her powers, she teleported.

Behind me, I could hear the chaotic sounds of furniture collapsing and explosions echoing through the apartment. Time was running out. If I did not get out in a matter of seconds, the heat blast could send us all hurtling from the building. When I reached the balcony, I was startled by the voices calling from below. The fire department had arrived while I was inside and had already set up an emergency rescue cushion. "Jump! Hurry, jump down!" Relief washed over me. Tightening my grip on the children, I threw myself off the balcony without hesitation. The moment we landed safely on the air cushion, the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. As I lay there, tears slipped from the corners of m

she points to the book, and I look at her in disbelief. “Your granddaughter is missing, and you want me to read,” my frustration is growing. “You will not understand if you do not read. If you do not understand a victory cannot be held,” her blue eyes do not waiver from my own as I glare at her. Grace might be the only person that I have ever met that doesn’t cower under my gaze. “Fine,” I say grabbing the book from her and reading the passage that she pointed to.

Copyright © 2021 Josie Frank Copy Editing and Formatting by Josie Frank Cover Design by JosieFrank Photography by Depositphotos Cover and photo from Depositphotos All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously

My wound was still bleeding rapidly. Due to my excessive blood loss, I had lost the ability to shout for help. However, I could still hear their voices. They were impatient. "Speak up. Are you dead?" Three consecutive calls, three were three chances, yet no one came to my rescue. I could clearly feel the murderer cutting into my skin with a knife and whispering in my ear. "It's Samantha's wedding today. It's your blessing to be able to use your blood to commemorate her." After cutting off my limbs bit by bit with a knife, he cut open my stomach. Blood flowed all over the floor. I was dead, completely dead.

No question about it. Some pages smelled faintly of faded cologne, others were smudged at the edges, as if reread by trembling hands. The words were tender, romantic, and reckless, filled with longing. Lucas had been ready to give up everything for her. He wanted to leave, to start fresh. With her. “You don’t have to be afraid about me being accepted,” one letter read. “We can leave everything behind and go to Paris.” It felt surreal. Painful. If they loved each other so much, why did she kill him?