Erin Hunter Survivors Books Novels & Stories

Hunter comes back to the living room with a bottle of wine, noodles and canned food his family stored in the basement. Thankfully, his father never forgot the cabin and kept paying the water and electricity bills. Hunter wonders if the late president used to come here when he needed to be alone—or with his mistress. "That's all we got for now," Hunter takes a seat on the gingerbread leather couch. "I guess it's enough to survive the night," "I'm not hungry," Harvey mumbles, resting his head on Eden's shoulder. Hunter frowns at him, "That's what your brain said. I'm sure your empty stomach thinks otherwise," he pushes a can of fruits toward him. "Do you want some noodles?"

It wasn't until she'd found his notebooks in the attic three years ago that she'd learned the truth. Hunter. Vigil. Contracts with supernatural families. Dangerous work. Dangerous people. The car accident had been a cover story. Someone had killed him. She still didn't know who. Clara had gotten sick two years later. Fey contamination. Rare. Usually fatal. The doctors hadn't known what to do with it. Melina had known exactly what to do with it. Get the Lunasol. Save her mother. Finish what her father had started. Simple plan. Clean execution. Except nothing about the last few weeks had been simple or clean.

The pocket-sized book Skye had shown me had filled in the gaps in my knowledge, and, at long last, we knew what we were hunting. Herb’s warning had also gone right over my head. Large, crowded events, full of people, were a breeding ground for violence and torment. Skye had left me the book – though we’d been hidden from the Clan’s eyes and ears, his family, his pack, would still worry if he’d been gone too long, which he already had been; as such, he’d had to leave soon after explaining what he and Rowan and Rosie had found in the tiny book. It didn’t look like much, faded and crinkled and tea stained as it was, but it held all of the information that would – hopefully – help us bring down

And somewhere among the scribbles, I found the thread I needed. Step one: move fast. Don’t linger in one place. Hunters track scent, patterns, habits. Step two: trust instincts, not people easily. Step three: humor is survival. Keep it sharp, even when alone. Step four: fight smart, not just hard. I read the last line, written in smaller, almost messy letters: “No one can stop a girl who’s determined to survive. Not even me.” A shiver ran through me—not from cold, but from the raw truth of it. He had believed in me. And now I had to believe in myself.

[katalina] I’m with Hunter now. We’re taking the route back home. My body is aching like I’ve been hazed by a fraternity. On our way home, Hunter was so serious on the road. He won’t believe me when I confessed that Bernard was just a fictional character in the book I was reading before. He didn’t know about my past. Nor he deserves to know. Of course, prior to I became a researcher and writer in one, reading pocket novels are my pastime. It helps me to escape the cruel world.

The attack also left behind diseases that slowly killed those who survived. Tired of the pain and suffering, a young and talented hunter named Nilraenne Lahn Ithea led the small group of surviving young men and women on a journey beyond the mountains in search for food. They met people from neighboring villages who also suffered the same fate. Being a skilled and charismatic young man, Nilraenne convinced them to join their pursuit for food. He trained them how to hunt and fight beasts. His small group of desperate youngsters eventually grew to become a band of highly skilled hunter adventurers. This enabled them to raid forests to butcher beasts, which not only avenged their plights but als

I nodded to Xavier, he had every right to hate me, and if that made him feel better, then I would take it. I closed my eyes as he raised the knife and waited for him to plunge it deep into my chest. To be continued… (This book is a Duet, the Hunter and The Hunted. The Hunted i still being written, please see my website for more information. It is on my to be written list after I finish my final revisions of my main series and the spin off completion.)

It was actually a relief that it wasn't anything worse than that. Jackson took me to the living room and there were books scattered everywhere. All containing prophecies and we were hoping that we might find the one that has mind in it. Isaac, Ethan, Edward, Aria and Carter were all here to help me out with it. They were all reading through dozens of books so I sat on the couch and grabbed a book myself and started looking through it. I was surprised that so many people came out to help me try and figure out why the Hunters were so desperate for me. I was starting to lose touch with my friends from school, but I guess this was proving that they were still here for me. Just like they know I a

Blistering, unrelenting pain followed. And that’s what I remembered… the blood. He didn’t realize how much bleeding there would be. I was sent to the pack hospital for stitching. The doctor wouldn’t meet my eyes. He couldn’t save me, just as he couldn’t save himself. I wanted to die. I wanted to bleed to death so I could be removed from this torment. From being mate to the Alpha of Grey City - Greyson Carter. The man of malice that owned The Hills and controlled all of its people.

On the day I got married, my father-in-law personally fastened an obsidian bead bracelet around my wrist. He looked at me and said, "Moses, from today on, you're one of the family. I'll treat you like my own." I had grown up in an orphanage and had never truly had a family of my own. Because of those words alone, I willingly married into the Zeigler family and wore that bracelet for six straight years. Even after it rubbed my wrist raw—leaving it swollen, ulcerated, and oozing with pus—I still could not bear to take it off. Everything changed the day I stopped by my childhood friend's antique and jewelry appraisal studio for a small get-together. The moment he saw my wrist, he turned grim