Elle Brooks Author Novels & Stories

what are you doing? I roll my eyes, firing off a reply. Brooke: Coding. Theo: again? you’ve got an addiction. I smile at the screen. Brooke: My name is Brooke and I’m a code-a-holic. He doesn’t respond right away, which gives me time to stew about how cheesy my message was. God, he must think I’m such a dork. My phone vibrates in my hands as I receive another message. Theo: wanna hang?

“No. I didn’t. But I enjoy writing.” Brook scoffed. “News isn’t just about writing. It’s about the truth.” Damn this girl was serious. “Right…well I’d still like to join.” Brook gave her a long look up and down. “Sorry. From where I’m standing, you won’t bring anything of value. Now if you don’t mind…” Brook held her hand towards the door. Mia shook her head in disbelief, but picked up her bag off the floor and went to leave.

“I hadn’t meant to monopolize her time on this. I was just hoping that she would be interested in taking a look through some of the books I had.” Cheryl nearly snorted over her coffee mug. “Trust me, she has become more than interested in this pursuit.” While Cheryl and Angie were giving me a brief update on anything I may have missed while I was away, a disheveled figure suddenly appeared in the doorway. It was Brooke. The poor woman looked as though she’d barely slept these last two days. “Brooke? Are you okay?” I asked. “I think I figured out what that damn plant is made up of!” she exclaimed.

The chamber bristled, but none dared interrupt him as he leaned forward, voice growing sharper. “And this Brooks is not merely fated,” he continued. “She is descended of the Moon herself. That blood runs in her veins. Do you think our laws, forged by wolves, can outweigh the will of the divine?” Murmurs rippled. Some still resisted, jaws tight, but they did not meet his eyes. “Be careful,” he chided. “You cannot call abomination what the Goddess calls destiny.” I found myself still, my chest tightening, not in doubt but in grim vindication. Finally, someone else said aloud what I already knew: Brooks was beyond them.

꧁ Marisella ꧂ (15 years old) Hate boils in my heart like a cauldron atop hot coals. I scrub a dish so hard I’m getting off germs on a molecular level, soapy water splashing like a stormy sea. Mom sighs beside me. “Are you seriously jealous of your brother, Mari?” “He’s not my brother,” I sneer under my breath, scrubbing harder. Mom gently cups my shoulder, her other hand smoothing my hair. “I know it looks like I let him have his way, but you know he’s sick. He needs us.”

She was my redemption. The Blood Moon Luna and His Blood Moon Redemption are original works from the imagination of author Artemas J R Broyles. Some real life places were used purely for landmark purposes. The characters themselves are pure imagination with personalities inspired by those the author has met in their own life’s journey. Thanks for reading! -A :)

"It's one of my favorites." Brock stared at the title. "Lady Jade's Wild Lord." The author was L. R. Gloucester. He'd once adored novels, but his father had sold nearly all of them. "Thank you," he said, holding the book reverently. "I'm afraid I am still at a loss as to your name. Which one of Rosalind's brothers are you?" Joanna came another step closer, almost within arm's reach. "How do you know about us?" he asked, his eyes searching the room for something he could use to bind her hands together. The only thing he saw was the dark-blue ribbon in her hair and the lovely sash around her waist. But how to go about it

He said, and he had my attention. "Leah Brooks is Alpha Devin Brooks' younger sister. She committed a heinous crime, and instead of her brother executing her, he exiled her," he said, and it wasn't far from what Willow told me about her mother being in exile, so it wasn't news to me. I wondered what Marks's deal was.

CRYSTAL After Brooks left, I went inside and took a shower. When I got out, I went to my room and got my journal out and began writing about my birthday. When I finished writing, I started to draw the necklace he got me and the next thing I knew I was waking up with my face on my journal and the sun was out. I looked at the time and saw it was 11 a.m. I got up and saw I had 3 text messages. One was from my dad letting me know he had to go into work, one was from Jonah telling me he was glad I had a good birthday and the other was from Brooks. I opened his text and when I saw that he was going to be coming down at 11:15. I jumped up and put my hair up in a messy bun, went to the bathroom and

as we walked in. Pastor Brooks, who had mostly been a quiet presence since we’d started working with him, walked beside us with a calm demeanor. His eyes scanned everything, taking in the small-town library like it was a battlefield, strategic, thoughtful, yet unhurried. He wasn’t one to rush, and I found that oddly reassuring. Given the strange and sometimes supernatural world we were dealing with, a man like Pastor Brooks was a valuable anchor. “Don’t let the size fool you,” Rachelle said, pushing open the glass door with a smile. “This place might be small, but they have some pretty good historical records on local events.”