Gory Books Novels & Stories

“You’re playing with something you don’t understand.” The voice wasn’t Kael’s this time. It came from the doorwaysoft, tired, and all too knowing. Rory. She looked pale, shadows bruised beneath her eyes. “That book smells like death.” “Most useful things do.” “What are you doing with it?” I paused, then smiled. “Reading.” “Liar.” She stepped closer, her look hard. “You think I don’t know what that is? The Rite of Reclamation. It’s banned even among your kind.”

I search his eyes with mine, feeling like I'm drowning in the intense grey pools, and then I smile, slow and dangerous. "As you say." ~~~~~ One of Dominic's staff shows me to my insanely spacious room and I spend the rest of the day unpacking and gossiping with the girls. Amidst all I was doing to keep myself busy, my mind continued to flash those grey orbs in my head, and kept pointing out the effect his voice had. And by dinner time, my body is electrified and I can't find a suitable outfit to hide my aroused nipples poking through my dress. I join Dominic who's already seated at the dinning in silence and no words are exchanged as we eat.

A first edition of Meridian's Bestiary, one of only three known copies, lay in the fireplace, its charred edges still smoking faintly. I crouched beside a toppled shelf, running my thumb over the embossed title of a fallen book: On the Nature of Forgotten Gods. The sheer breadth of knowledge in this room made my chest tighten. Histories of dead civilizations. Treatises on magic even the scholars feared to practice. Accounts of creatures that should have stayed myth. And as I stood in the midst of the wreckage, breathing in the scent of ink and blood and broken things, I understood why someone would take her.

There was a table. Books stacked on it. Not like the ones I used to see at home. These looked older. Some of them had markings on the covers I didn’t understand. I walked closer. My fingers hovered over one of them before I touched it. The cover felt rough. Worn. I opened it slowly. The pages were filled with symbols. Not letters. Not words I knew. Shapes. Lines. Things that looked like drawings but weren’t. I frowned. “What is this…?” I flipped a page.

My heart beats fast, and I feel a wetness between my legs that I can’t ignore. One gray afternoon, it was pouring rain outside. The library was dead empty. No one to bother me. I locked the front door early and turned the sign to closed. My hands were sweaty as I picked out my four favorite books from the back shelf. There was the pirate story with Captain Thorne, a tough guy who sails the seas and takes what he wants. Then the vampire book with Lord Draven, all dark and mysterious, with eyes that pull you in. Next, the cowboy tale with Buck, rough and ready from the wild west. And finally, the barbarian adventure with Garrick, a big brute who fights with his hands and conquers everything. E

But Becky owned her nerdy, geeky side. In the study, they split off and got down to search. It took hours combing through the books. They didn’t appear to be disturbed all that much. A few showed evidence of recently being removed from their place, but beyond that, nothing jumped out at Gemma. The section where books on lore and the supernatural appeared the most disturbed.

" I stroked the box, but there was no magical energy or sensation. Everything felt ordinary, as if it were just a regular box that had been beautifully carved. I opened the box, my heart racing. It's only a book. No, unlike the Grimoire I kept, this is just a regular, thick book. I opened it out of curiosity. I turned the first page of the book and saw the writing, which was still a little sloppy, like a child's. [Today is the first day I remember the werewolf reincarnation] That's what I read, and it appears that this will lead me to Rafe's biggest secret.

My library professor whose deep commanding voice made my thighs clench during lectures. The man I’d fantasized about bending me over these very tables and fucking me senseless until I can’t remember my name. I opened the book, and the dedication page read: For those who crave quiet darkness.” My breath hitched. I flipped to the next page and started reading. “She knelt before him in the silence of stacks, skirts pushed high, panties already soaked. “Read it out,” He ordered. “Every filthy word, while I taste how wet you’ve become for me.”

“He’s clearly got you on drugs or something.” “That’s ridiculous. I’m completely sober.” “Are you, Camille? I should give you a test or something.” He checked out the other books. More vampire romance? Where were the werewolves? He saw none. “Wrong,” Dire grumbled. Don’t worry. We’ll get her proper books. Maddox browsed more of the vampire books and realized that they all had the same author. Grace Moon. That was an interesting name.

I ask, the memory of my blood falling on the stone's face and what came after it. “I’m not a hundred percent sure. Saying that I have been led to believe that… certain shifters who hold genes close to the gods, powerful DNA, can access the power or magic those stones hold.” “Like a Grimalkin?” He purses his lips, pale eyes narrowing on me, “Like a Grimalkin,” he confirms. Abner tosses the small black book at me and I easily catch it. It’s plain, with no writing, and thin maybe only twenty pages.