From Cradle To Grave Book Novels & Stories

"What did you do?" Grace tilted her head, a gesture so reminiscent of the Digital Saint that Panni felt her heart stutter. "I silenced the noise, Papa. The Vault is a cage. Lucien is a collector. But the Cradle... the Cradle is where the music was written before the 'Contract' ever existed." Panni reached out, her fingers hovering inches from Grace’s cheek. She was terrified that if she touched her, she would find marble instead of skin. "Grace, baby, talk to me. This isn't you. This is Silas... he’s trying to use you."

Too much fire and not enough air. She sat in her study, lights dim, the rain still tapping against the old glass. Before her lay a blank leather-bound book. She dipped the pen in ink, then paused. She wrote: For my son. “The world you inherit is broken. You are not born to fix it. You are born to survive it. This is not a cradle song. This is a manual of war.” She titled the first page: THE BOOK OF BLOOD She stopped. Closed her eyes. Listened to the wind.

He faintly nodded before disappearing into the embrace of the multitude of graves. In loving memory of: NORA ELAD WOODS SUNRISE: 28th MARCH 2001 SUNSET: 19th APRIL 2019 Forever in our hearts. The heart squeezes those words impacted on him were unbearable. It hadn't changed over the year. Not the least. It was still as fresh as the image of her lifeless body. It all felt like yesterday. "Hi," He hesitated as if expecting his words to ricochet from a placid voice he was used to but when it didn't, he chuckled to himself, it was just him and a gravestone.

"I tried to manipulate everyone, but I didn't count on you being… crueler than me." "I just understand human nature better than you do," I said softly. "Yeah… Human nature…" Keira stayed silent for so long that I thought she had hung up. Then, she whispered, "You know, I really envy you. I thought you were like me, clawing your way out of the mud. So why do you, out of everyone, get to stand on a moral high ground, like some kind of saint, and look down on the rest of us?"

You'll be able to find me on various SM pl@forms so make sure you come check in on the latest :) I am currently working on more Mafia romances, a new series called The Notorious Five. If you haven't read this, you will want to as it is so much better than Cruz, darker and grittier. This is the series that has taken up most of my time and if you read the books, you will see why. They are constantly updated and the series is almost finished. If you find me on SM, you'll be able to find out where the works are :)

It was the heart of a thriving village they called "The Cradle." The Cradle was a place of impossible life. The moss had become grass, soft and resilient, covering the ground between the lovingly repaired crystal structures. The single tree had become a grove, its children sprouting from seeds carried on the now-gentle wind. Vines, heavy with glowing, blue fruit, climbed the walls, their light pushing back the eternal twilight. A spring, coaxed from the deep earth by Leo's persistent communion with the land, bubbled in the central plaza, its water clear and sweet.

Anne wished they hadn’t spoken to that batty old man, listening to his riddles and dead-end tales. The later discovery of alternate tales, crude folklore and legends betrayed by a handful of the old or wandering mad reinforced Damon’s suspicions of an ancient grave site, though there was no recorded information of its existence until Damon’s final research paper. There Damon recounted it by name, “The Mourner’s Cradle.”

He wanted to drive to the cemetery right now and dig until he knew for certain. Instead he stood there gripping the counter, breathing. His wife slept peacefully in the next room. The woman who had given him the first real peace he'd ever known. The same woman who might have emptied his brother's grave. Jose looked at his own reflection and felt something ugly shift in his chest. Part of him didn't care. Part of him just wanted to keep the life he'd built no matter what crawled out from under it. He deleted the messages. Then emptied the trash folder too.

## Author's Note Hello everyone, I am incredibly grateful that you have taken the time to delve into my book “Caged by Him.” Your time and attention are invaluable, and I want to express my heartfelt thanks for allowing my story to be a part of your day. Writing this book has been a journey filled with passion, creativity, and a few challenges along the way, and I’m thrilled to share it with you.

“One thousand years ago, my home, the kingdom of Everaya, was the most powerful nation in my world.” He begins. “Unfortunately there were those within the kingdom who were unhappy with the way things were and the King was murdered. His queen was pregnant at the time and went into early labour. She died and the baby survived. This baby was the Fellstar heir.” He seems to pause as if to let this sink in and then continues on.