Dark Room Novel Novels & Stories

Breaking away from the kiss for air, she sighed and smiled down at him. “You know, for someone who is so shy when it comes to intimacy and topic of sex, you really do know how to use your hands..and tongue." She giggled. “Well." He smiled, squeezing her butt harder, making her gasp. “ Remember that novel I saw in your house?” “Which one?” She moaned. “I have lots of them” “ The one titled ‘Last Night.' " He winked at her. “The erotic one.” “Oh.” She replied as her eyes went wide in realization.

~ Amara ~ The hum of the refrigerator usually filled the silence of the kitchen, but tonight, the world was pitch black. A sudden summer storm had rolled over Ravenport, and with a final, violent crack of lightning, Moore Crest had plunged into darkness. I sat at the small breakfast nook, my hands wrapped around a cold glass of water. I didn't move to find a flashlight. In this house, the dark felt more honest than the light. It didn't pretend the marble was warm or that the portraits in the hall were actually looking at me.

Who needs so many spare bedrooms, with no one else to live with? Reaching the end of the hall, I come face-to-face with the final door. No light seeps through the crack at the bottom, and no sounds either. So when I open the door, I expect to find a room similar to the others. But I don't. I jerk back, my soul nearly leaving my body. A laptop shines against Damien's face, glowing eerily in the room's darkness. With the curtains drawn shut, the crashing of thunder rumbles in the distance. Behind his enormous mahogany desk, he leans into the screen, his loose tie hanging around his neck.

she cried to us as she handed us the painting that was meant for us. I just smiled at her as she hugged us. I looked down at the painting I was holding. "Life in the Darkness" — The Woman Who Lived in the Dark." ** Life in Darkness has signed off.

Suddenly, I noticed something, a door slightly opened. My steps faltered. Was that supposed to be open? “Hello?” I called softly. No answer. Yet, the warm glow and silence stirred my curiosity, and I nudged forward. I pushed the door open slowly. A library. The only room in the mansion that felt remotely alive. Books lined the shelves, though they looked untouched and more decorative. The faux flames in the electric fireplace flickered with artificial warmth. I ran my fingers along the spines of the books. No dust. Everything is too perfect. What kind of man lives like this?

Which is why I haven’t been using it ever since I started writing 1001 Dark Tales. Yes, I could have written it quicker, but 1001 Dark Tales are dark romance tales. I’m not ashamed of anything I write, but I would rather not act out the scenes with three males who I don’t even know their names or what they look like. I push those thoughts away as I put the quill down and grabbed my other manuscripts, leafing through them. Each of them was only partly done and would benefit from using the quill on them. Before I could pull one out, though, I heard a knock at my door.

I tried to touch his, intertwine our fingers so he wouldn't let go. But then, he was ripped away again, and Everything went white. I woke sitting upright, my breathing sharp and uneven, heart clawing at my ribs. The dark room loomed around me, foreign enough that it took a second to remember where I was. Lucien’s mansion. The glass house. My pillow was damp. My hands were shaking. And worse of it all—my throat hurt. Because I had been speaking out loud. It was more than a dream. A dream that felt too real.

The men moved into the room with me in their arms while my heartbeat increased. Am I about to be sold? The men dropped me on the floor with a loud thud and exited the room. I gazed around to observe the room. The room was beautifully decorated with black interior designs. The bed stand, curtains, wardrobe, doors, the paintings, and the floor. Even the mattress was covered with a black bed sheet with a black rose in the center. I need not be told that it is Francesco who is behind it. “Welcome to the Dark Room where you will witness my Dark Side.” Francesco sang from behind.

My clothes, makeup box, and accessories were neatly settled in the wardrobe. I opened the bathroom, which was also bigger than my room. An old vintage-type tub sat in the middle. After finishing my night routine,I came to my room, dinner was settled on the table, after having dinner, I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. There is no electricity in this room, since Vampires love darkness. Stone. Everything in this place was stone. How was I going to survive six months here? Soon, darkness took over me. Damian's POV

Christmas was the reading of the book. This Christmas, Don's book was a novel—Norwegian, which was not a coincidence, a novel by the same writer whose essays were in the Norway reading programme. The novel was called The Dark Year, and it was about a man who spent a winter alone in a cabin in the far north of Norway, experiencing the full darkness for the first time. Don had been saving it since September, when he had finished the essays. He had placed it on the shelf above his desk, the designated holding place for the Christmas book, and had not opened it once.