Emerson Barrett Book Novels & Stories

She sat on the mattress. "What do you mean?" Karl asked. "I fear she is close to discovering herself. That is Lexi. I fear she may be close to discovering who she is." "How so?" "She's been reading a book, titled, Ancient Kingdoms of the world. She's found a liking to their customs. She read a page in the book to me yesterday about a certain warrior who married thirty wives. I fear she may tell you to do the same." Karl laughed. "Everything I've done is to please her. I don't have to always listen to all her suggestions."

Facing the camera, I spoke calmly, “No one loves me anymore, and I don’t have the courage to go on living. Fine. You can all just think of me as weak, but don’t worry. I’ll make sure to record everything. Even if I die, I won’t let them get away with it.” In the video, I crouched by the shore of Exile Island, holding a sharpened piece of bamboo. Again and again, I struck it against a rock. My hands soon became a bloody mess, but I felt nothing. It was as if I had gone completely numb. Someone in the audience cried out, “What is Jacob doing, sharpening bamboo like that? He’s not thinking of ending it, is he?” “After everything he’s been through, it wouldn’t be surprising…”

she snapped, “I need to get back the shop before the boss has my head. Is this about the Bloody Barbies again?” Bloody Barbie was the nickname Maria gave to the murders ever since she’d gotten involved as a suspect. It was an apt name. Each crime scene that had been investigated was painted red with each victim’s blood, and in each one there would be a bloody doll left behind (though, not exactly a Barbie), no less than three feet away from the body.

Carla and Travis watched from the sidelines, hands clasped. “We did it,” Carla said, her voice steady. Travis nodded. “And we’re just getting started.” The scars remained, but they were no longer wounds. Dave, Carla, and the other victims were healing, not just surviving but thriving, their journeys a testament to resilience, love, and the unyielding power of talent reclaimed. ----- This marks the end of the Burning Embers: Scorching Tales of Desire. Compiled short story arcs now made their way to their ends. See you next time. There'll be more ahead. Thank you!

His mind couldn’t concentrate on anything except the absence. She was gone. The bond was incomplete. And they were going to suffer for however long it took before she came back....if she came back at all. Ashe surged against his skin, desperate and frantic. Barrett left the library and headed toward the garden. The morning air was cold. The garden was laid out in geometric patterns, carefully maintained hedges, stone pathways, benches positioned in quiet corners. It was beautiful in an controlled, deliberate way that reminded him of the estate itself.