Grayson Hawthorne Book Novels & Stories

"Hi, it seems you haven't noticed me yet, there is no other way I can explain your rude behavior. I am Grace Shanks, Venator Grace Shanks. " The look I got from Diccon Faust could only be seen as condescending. "Yes, very pleased," was all he said to me before turning back to Reese. "Is there any reason to believe that an incident might occur?" Why did he ask him the question now? "Not that we know of." Reese put his left hand back into his jacket pocket. I knew exactly that he was now holding his pack of cigarettes in his hand. But I also noticed how he gave me a look out of the corner of my eye. "But you can never have enough people who make sure that the proles do not pose a threat to any

It was just enough to keep him alive and nowhere near enough to allow him to feel like a vampire again. ~ The sun isn't shining too bright today. A few white fluffy clouds float through the sky. The weather is warm, and the breeze is gentle, but every now and then, there's a gust that brings with it a certain smell that tells Grayson a storm is on its way. Grayson sits under the large shade tree. His back leans against the tree as he turns the page and begins reading a new chapter. The stand was amazing, and Grayson swears that by the end of the year, he will have owned every Stephen King book in paperback after reading the talisman. The book is so addicting to him. It's drawing him in and h

"There's this dress you need to—" She stops talking abruptly when the door swings open and Grayson enters the room. He seems to be too busy brooding at first to notice that there are people in the room. Then suddenly he halts, his eyes slowly moving from the beautician to grandmother and finally it lands on me. His eyes sweep over my figure before he looks away. I'm too stunned to even move to cover myself. Not that I can do much anyway. The robe is translucent. I'm almost certain he saw the outline of my nipples and curves.

The scent of something warm and buttery pulls me out of bed, just as the door opens and Grace walks in. “Miss Wilson,” she nods curtly. “I’m here to change the sheets.” “Sheets?” I glance down at the bed, my face flaming instantly as I see a damp patch smack-dab in the middle of my bed. I splutter as I try to speak, staring intently at the floor. “May I?” She asks warmly. “Mr. Hawthorne is already in the dining room, if you’d like to join him for breakfast.”

She almost turned back to her room but then she heard footsteps. Instinctively, she ducked behind the archway of the kitchen, her breath catching in her throat. Grayson walked in. He hadn’t seen her. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his tie loosened. Hair slightly messy like he’d raked a hand through it in frustration. He looked… different. Undone. Unaware. Like a man instead of a contract. He opened the fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, and drank not elegantly, not carefully. Just like a tired man in his kitchen. And for the first time, she didn’t see Grayson Wolfe the billionaire, the businessman, the man with ice in his voice.

“Yep. Go ahead.” “Why don’t you--” “You wanna go to town or not, sis?” I barked at her. Grayson narrowed her eyes and slid into the narrow cab of the truck. In order for me to fit, too, she’d have to sit right next to Horace. The stench of smoke, body odor, and garbage that seemed to linger around him permeated every surface of the truck and the old man. I gave Gray a shove with my hip as I climbed in, scooching her even closer to him, not because I wanted to but because I had to. Once we were in, Horace laughed and started the truck.

Later that night, back in our chambers, Grayson pulled me close again, his hands roaming with that familiar hunger. We didn’t go all the way, he was still holding to his promise about waiting for the ritual — but the touches, the kisses, and the whispered praises made me feel cherished and wanted in a way I’d never experienced. As I lay in his arms afterward, listening to his steady breathing, the warmth of the day settled over me like a soft blanket. The pack was warming to me. Grayson was opening up more every day. Everything felt like it was falling into place. But that secret about Elder Thorne still sat like a rock in my stomach.

His words and actions are in line, not unlike Owen. Grayson... he's different from Owen. He was a new kind of man, different from any other man I knew. Grayson was a jerk, but he never hurt my feelings. He was just too honest and always told things as they were. Grayson introduced me to the strange feelings I had felt before, when I was in love with Owen. But this time I didn't feel worried or doubtful, I felt confident.

Grayson sat on the edge of the massive bed, shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, drink in hand like he’d been living in this moment all day. I didn’t speak. I just stood there. Silent. Motionless. My hands clasped behind me like I was at some military inspection. “You’re not a guest,” he muttered, swirling his whiskey. “I gave you a room. I gave you food. You said you wanted to work off the debt, I even considered sending you back to school " Fucking snake, why the hell is he suddenly counting favours? His eyes flicked to me, darker than the night outside.

The next morning, Grayson did not go to work as usual. He and Sienna had breakfast together. The two of them had been avoiding eye contact, and Sienna immediately recalled the strange atmosphere of last night. She then thought about the message from Julian. Grayson didn't know what she was thinking. He just thought it was a result of her shyness and was a little relieved. The atmosphere in the morning was unexpectedly harmonious that even Grayson took the initiative to hand the strawberry jam to Sienna, which made Mr. Harlan almost unable to hold back his tears. It was so different from a Mrs. Kai here! Mr. Kai was now much friendlier, and nothing like he was before. He was like a big iceber