Dawn's Ballad Novels & Stories

It all goes well as we have planned then we are on a right track to be the next music sensation. This gig can boost our audience coverage and we will be able to cover a wider range of audience. Slowly it seems like the things are falling in place. I was never an early riser, never will be. I am a night owl or whatever they say. I stay awake at night writing songs and playing with music, creating music. The silence of the night calms my mind and my heart letting the rhythm flow through me giving vibes that helps create my music. *** I was quick to have a shower, clean up and find some decent formal looking clothes for the meeting. It is very important for the band to have a studio and we can'

Gwan was again interrupted by a beep, indicating the call has ended. Mr. Gwan looked at his phone and, a deep and worrying sigh left his mouth. He first looked at the time which was 6:15 and, then at his condition which was a complete topsy-turvy. He was laying upside down on the bed, which was his childhood habit. The blanket was beneath him and the pillow was over his torso. But… Without wasting much time on thoughts, he ran to the washroom. a/n pov Till now what so ever happened, must have sounded confusing to you. That is what I wanted well. But, anyway, let me introduce you to the characters properly now. First, let's go for the person running out of time.

he said and slammed the door shut. -------------------------- I never wanted to attend the Proclamation Ceremony. I wanted to lock myself in my room until everything ended. This was the day Alpha Erik had mentioned. Alpha Wade and Zenith will strike. From where I was standing, I could hear the sweet music coming from the hall. “You’re not attending?” Dawn asked. She was already done preparing herself and wore a high-slit skirt, and the bulge in it told me she was hiding something under her skirt and a white sleeve blouse. On top of that was a half-cloak over her shoulder.

I almost lost count of how many times Dylan had brought a stranger girl home. It had become a habit, a painful one, to witness Dylan sleeping with other women. But now, there were no more tears left to cry. As I woke up, the gentle morning light filled the room, casting a warm glow. The soft sound of birds chirping outside welcomed the new day. I knew it was Sunday, which meant Dylan would be home all day, subjecting me to both torture and serenity. Rising from the bed, I made my way to the shower, the warm water cascading over my skin, easing away the remnants of sleep.

Dawn is an open wound, a red line across the horizon. It bleeds light into the sky, its pulse a bright, uncontained energy that fills the air with life and the thrilling promise of risk and the unknown. The Siren’s Heart crests a wave and rides it down, a fierce, living presence that slices through the water with the reckless energy of defiance. Amelia stands at the helm, her silhouette a sharp, unyielding force against the brightening sky. The pulse of the medallion at her throat matches the beat of the dawn. Its warmth fills her with a fierce, living awareness of the bodies and hearts she has claimed as her own. The ship rises with the next swell, and the lookout’s cry pierces the bright,

Daniel and Savannah had woken up early this morning. Aerian was still asleep from working last night so we had them shower, eat and relax most of the day. Niven was able to find some coverage so that Aerain could have tonight off. She was exhausted from working these last three nights. I had noticed that the parking lot was full these last three nights. I was glad to see the place full, but I knew my dark princess needed a day off. Niven reminded me that we had decided to make these two nights by reservation only so they should not be as busy. The chef that was supposed to work the previous two nights had gotten sick but was back and was more than happy to take these two nights. I had let my

Riley was convicted of attempted homicide and sentenced to a lifetime in prison. When we made it to the North Point research station, the sky was lit up by a spectacular aurora that dyed everything it touched in a green hue. Caleb stood beneath the starry sky and offered his hand to me. I didn't hesitate as I stepped forward and took his hand.

The runner’s gaze drops, and for the first time he looks… uncertain. Nate watches the shift like a man reading a lock. Then he says, gently, brutally: “You’re expendable. But the people you’ve been helping kill aren’t.” The runner’s throat works. Finally, he whispers, “Operation Nightfall.” The room tightens. Melody’s pen appears instantly. “Define.” “Dawn,” the runner says, voice rough. “Before the palace shifts wake guards. One last crash attempt. Through linens again. If that fails, through the King.”

The mornings never come gently to me anymore. I used to think the sun’s arrival should feel like a blessing—its warmth, its promise, the quiet reassurance that life continues even after a night of terrors. But in this house, dawn has become the herald of dread. Daybreak means demands, punishments, reminders of what I am not. And this particular morning carries with it a different kind of weight. Tonight, there will be a ball. Everyone knows it. I have known it since Tremaine first let slip the news, her lips tightening with the peculiar satisfaction she always wears when a plan is in motion. I have been restless ever since, not from excitement, but from the heavy premonition that nothing goo