Delia Owens Books Novels & Stories

I stood behind the trees for a long while until the car headlights disappeared into the night. Upon returning to my workspace, I opened my notebook and added another count under Marie's name. Reuben's crimes didn't stop at Marie. There was Lily Johnson, too. She'd just turned 18 and had a pair of innocent doe eyes. She often walked with her head down, sticking close to the wall like some skittish kitten. I noticed she confined herself to the restroom during breaks, and it'd take a while before she came out. Once, I heard muffled crying coming from inside the restroom. I knocked on the door, and the sound stopped immediately.

asked Helena as she crouched down. “It's okay, I just lost my friend. I just miss Winky, Master.” Delia looked up and saw a strange face she had never known. She wiped her tears and looked at Helena from top to bottom. “A-Are you a teacher at my school?” asked Delia doubtfully; she had never seen Helena's face before. “No, I'm not the teacher here. I'm from Castile La Mancha. By the way, who did you say earlier? Winky? Is he a little boy who is the same height as you and has a sharp chin, white skin and brown eyes?” Helena asked.

Before I exit, Zelma stops me, saying, "I don't hate you, Ajay. And I understand the hold Jude has on you. I know you're worried and want to find him, but have you ever considered maybe he wants to be lost? Delilah attacked me over some books with mathematical formulas that no human could possibly decipher. They're yours if you want them, but I doubt they'll help you." I thank Zelma and leave. Once I'm in my hotel suite, I weep bitterly. I don't eat or come out for days. Finally, I have the strength to bathe. Ready to face these books, I removed them from my suitcase and read. Zelma's right. It's filled with equations about the moon and sun cycles. I flip through page after page, and it's ma

When the man left, Estella looked at Delia pleadingly, hoping she would take pity on her "Ma'am Delia, I beg you. Let me go here.. I promise I won't tell anyone about what happened. Please, let me go." Delia aggressively approached Estella and grabbed her by the head, her fingers intertwined in her hair as if holding a disobedient pet. "I'm truly sorry, Estella. But as they say, it's just money. I hope you can understand, because I know that's how you are, right?" She said devilishly. "Kill her! Don't let me know that you are too lenient with just one woman!" "Wait a minute, ma'am Delia." Delia faced the staff, her expression serious. "What do you need?" She asked in a commanding tone.

The map on the coffee table now had names circled, times pencilled in, and one large word underlined: ORCHID. When Delia woke, the apartment hummed with a quiet industry. Frank was already on a burner, voice low and exact. Thomas had iron in his shoulders that hadn’t been there the night before. Delia dressed, sliding the photograph of her mother into her bag like a talisman, and met them at the small kitchen table.

I pulled out the heavy leather chair across from her and sat down, refusing to accept the crystal glass of red wine she was already holding out to me. "What are you wearing?" I asked, my voice dropping to a low, warning register that was completely devoid of warmth. Delia smiled. It was a wide, innocent, and entirely rehearsed smile, but I knew her too well. I had lived under the same roof with her for five years, and I knew the exact shape of her malice. Delia was the type of woman who would do absolutely anything to be a real Mrs. Windsor—or even just to get me to fuck her. She was a desperate woman.

Riley had been there for her through thick and thin, from the moment she had stumbled across Delia outside the Greyhound Station in Washington DC approximately five years ago. Delia had been in a bad shape at that time, and Riley had swooped in like a guardian angel, taking her to the hospital and visiting her every single day until she fully recovered. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, one that had seen them through countless ups and downs. Riley had even helped Delia secure a part-time job at a local bookstore, and together they had supported each other through college and then through their professional careers working at real estate investment firms. Despite their closeness

The air smelled of tallow, wet wool, and fear. Delia stood at the far end, white as a swan in the throat, a shawl clutched close. Her hair hung loose; there was a smear of something at her cuff that might have been candle soot, might have been peony powder. Her eyes were perfect: red at the rims, shining with unshed tears.

An excellent one to be precise and that was what had kept him employed. In the seat beside him was a woman. She had long, blonde hair that when allowed to move with gravity, neared her waist. She was dressed in a silvery gown and looked like a queen. What she lacked though, was a crown on her head and three dozen guards watching her every step. She was Sarah, Harold's stepmother. In the seats behind the driver and Sarah was Harold and someone who was bound to make his next two years in Golden Lake University more miserable; Maximus (or Max for short).

The books on the bed were a lot. Since Darius traveled, I decided to use the little time to learn about the kingdom and the werewolf history. "Do you read this every day?" "This book is many." She questioned and sat down on the bed, but her eyes were still on the books. "I need to expand my knowledge about the kingdom if I want to rule alongside Darius." "I can't wait to tell him everything I have learned." I replied and sat beside her. "Then, can you tell me about the werewolves?"