From The Cradle To The Grave Book Novels & Stories

"Who are you?" "I am the First." "The first what?" "The first Crimson Priestess." My knees nearly buckled. "You carry both bloodlines." "I don't understand." "You will." She lifted her hand. Behind her... The mountain split open. An enormous underground kingdom stretched farther than I could see. Thousands of wolves. Ancient temples. Crystal rivers. Libraries. Gardens growing beneath glowing stones. "This kingdom sleeps." "What kingdom?" "It waits for you." The woman touched my forehead. "When your mate remembers..."

I always craved something more intense, something that would push me to my limits and beyond, leaving me broken and begging. That's what led me to this stupid idea on Christmas Eve. I was alone in my cramped apartment, the snow outside building up against the windows like a white prison wall. Bored out of my mind, I pulled out this ancient book I'd snagged from a shady thrift store downtown. It was all about old Alpine myths, and tucked away in the yellowed pages was a ritual for summoning Krampus… not the watered-down version from holiday movies, but the genuine article, the horned devil who dragged the wicked straight to hell for their sins.

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.

Impatiently, he said, "You rifled the closet? How dare you, Wisteria! I told you, Yvonne's stuff is off-limits! Change out of that gown and get back in the kitchen! You're an eyesore!" I scanned the fence-sitters. The ones who spewed nonsense. Then, I stared at Jackie. So I wasn't even worth being recognized by him. I was nothing but a mad housekeeper he could insult at his fancy. One of his old projects caught on fire and killed dozens of people. The army of the bereaved surrounded his company 24/7, demanding blood for blood. I used my family's power to keep the crisis at bay and even suffered a knife wound that was meant for him.

And find out if there was any way to fix it. As she drove, Caitlin thought again of the rare books she had found in her library. Most of all, she that of that one rare volume, and its torn page. She thought of its ancient ceremony, the one in Latin, with its cure for vampirism. She wondered again if it was real. Was that just passed down from folklore? An old wives’ tale?

For the first time, she experienced how wonderful it feels to have someone called the apple of the eye. She was in the library then, researching for her report. Coincidentally, the book she needed was on the higher part of the shelf and she could not reach it. But because of her shy nature, she still tried to reach the book by squatting. She was surprised when suddenly a tall, dark-skinned man approached her and handed her the book.

~~~~~~~~~~~THE END~~~~~~~~~~~ Coming soon: Beautiful and Healed Synopsis: (Sequel of Broken and Pregnant) After being locked in jail for five years, Lucy Mason was finally free. Her life inside the prison wasn't easy. Thanks to her new inmate friend Cassandra. She was the one who helps her battle depression and despair. They got out of prison together and it's game time for those who hurt and betrayed her when she was Lucy Mason. She's back with a new name Greta Stone, the wife of a rich businessman Gale Stone who happened to be Kent's stepbrother.

I said through gritted teeth. There was no other relief that could compare to the King retiring to his room for the night and leaving the wolves to grieve. As a community, we huddled together in our designated field meant for last rites. While building up Cole’s funeral pyre, the wolves began to hum the simple, somber song as part of our letting go ritual. Being Alpha, it was my job to light the pyre. With my torch in hand, I walked forward to say goodbye.

They’d even taken the precaution of arranging for a wet nurse in case she didn’t survive the process. At first, Kendra didn’t understand why they were so eager for the zombie cure, since they clearly lived in a world apart from the one she’d grown up in. Then, one day an alarm was raised to announce the fact that a zombie had wandered into the village. This was her first clue that, although there was a cloak to hide the visibility of the entrance/exit of the village, it didn’t seal it. Zombies – or humans – could find themselves inside the village without knowing how they got there.

I think to myself as I give a polite wave and smile back. As I enter the Cobblestone cafè, I notice it all. The pause in conversation. The flicker of curiosity. The barista’s smile that’s a little too knowing. What I noticed further was every detail that I had in a dream as a kid- one a poor girl from the wrong side of this town, with a criminal father and a mother that ran away could have never accomplished.