Emorey Novels & Stories

I acted like I had plenty, but deep down, my shattered soul barely held on with duct tape. “No Playboy tonight? That’s going to be a relief,” said Luke behind my back. He stretched his arm to grab the glasses I had cleaned and placed them back on the rack. I turned around and followed him until he returned to grab some more. “What?” I replied a little defensively. “Dominic Moore,” Luke added, so I’d know who he was referring to. “What does that even mean?” I scoffed.

Rademos surprised himself with his outburst. "We are one! We are the demon known as Astraldon." "Demon?" Rademos repeated, sounding surprised. "Is this a joke?" "Yes, you are a demon! You are an incubus. You are the demon of destruction." "I- I don't understand," Rademos replied, feeling a deepening sense of confusion. "In due time, you will!" "What do you-"

Cayd says. I smack him on the back of his head. “Show some respect to Safe Haven’s Alpha.” I say. “Yeah, idiot. That’s Alpha Em to you.” Emlyn says to Cayd. “I prefer goofball. Idiot implies that I’m not intelligent and I think we can all agree that I am, since I’ll be running our pack’s finances in a few years.” “Good to see you, Cayd.” Emerson says. I notice he glances around. I wonder who he’s looking for.

"She wants to ask if it's okay with you if she joins us for lunch this Monday." I thought it was something bad. But I guess I really don't have a problem with Emery. She is the cutest among the Rellis. Well, not cute as in physically. She looks indeed sweet and adorable, but once you look at her cold amber eyes, you would see something like a perfect combination of devil and angel. Yeah, so gorgeous and intimidating at the same time. "Sure. I have no problem with that," I said.

Inside was a velvet-wrapped ledger bound in faded red leather. The Ember Grimoire. It was a chronicle—half memoir, half confession—written in delicate script by Eleanor Montrose. Isabelle’s missing ancestor. “The flame is a memory. A power buried in blood and bone. The Keepers are not chosen,they are awakened. And the price of awakening is always a life.” Isabelle’s heart pounded. She turned the pages faster, until a symbol caught her eye: the intertwined keys. And below it, scrawled in desperate ink:

Her sweet and alluring smell hit my nostrils, her hand holding mine. “No way. What is he like?” “He’s such a sweet boy. Even when he was days old, he didn’t give me a hard time. He’s really a blessing, you know. Being a single mom and all.” I thought it was Skyla. “He doesn’t like phones or gadgets like most kids these days. He plays some games, but he’s drawn to sports like soccer and softball.” “What’s his name?” “Emery. It’s my—” “Her grandpa.” My voice was low and husky. I squeezed Estelle’s hand, and she seemed to freeze.

Genevieve: I refused to let Emre threaten me, so I stepped forward and looked him in the eye when delivering my words, “If she hadn't intervened and put herself in this spot, she would be fine right now. And before you ask me if I have any empathy, let me tell you something, Warrior Emre,” I faced him and noticed the color of his eyes. His hazel eyes stared at me when I muttered, “That is all I used to have before. But don't worry, I am changing now.”

"What do you want, Luna? What am I supposed to do?" "I don't know." Emory seemed angry with herself. "I just want peace. It's not just Myles who should feel good. I want that too, Lacey. I'm tired. I ...." Her voice trailed off and her eyes opened. She looked at Lacey with an uncertain gaze. "You, Lacey. I want you to find me a call boy." *

she vows, taking out her phone. “Hello, Fab,” she says as soon as the other end connects. “Hi, baby. How are you doing?” Fabulous? asked the other end. “I want some information on Mark Camfrey and his mother.” Fab needed not to ask more. “Onnit,” Emeilia sighs in relief, placing her mobile on the nightstand. “I have been overly weak, and it is time we get this show running.” Emilia closes her eyes, and soon, sleep drifts her away. In Fredrick Camfrey's home office, Kelvin Glen stands shivering like a mouse soaked in cold water.

"He's so tall. Like a giant. But a nice giant. And he has gray eyes just like me. And he knows everything about dinosaurs. He said he has a collection of real fossils. Real ones, Mommy. Not models." "That's very impressive, sweetheart." "And he asked if I could come to their house for a playdate. He said he would talk to you about it. Can I go, Mommy? Please?" "We'll see, baby. We'll see." Imogen set down her bag and collapsed onto the couch beside them. "Who's Emory's dad?" "Some businessman," Clara said. "He came to the school yesterday to meet Colt. Apparently he's very tall and has gray eyes and knows about dinosaurs."