Romans & histoires Grim Tales

Whatever that thing was, but how were they connected? My visions of Grisha were painful, they were draining, and they were chilling. But my vision of the burning bird was calm, peaceful, and utterly soul-fetching. But why did it scream Grisha? Because I heard it, I heard it loud and clear and I knew it screamed Grisha! What in the hell was Grisha and what did it have to do with the burning bird? For an umpteenth time ever since I set my foot in Varagrafena, I laid awake at night, filled with nothing but questions, and more confusion!

Sera I rise to my feet, as I notice something is definitely wrong. The certainty of it sits heavily inside my chest as I rise from my seat. The entire council chamber turns toward me at once, but I barely notice the dozens of eyes following my movement. My attention remains fixed on Helena. Grimwards do not wander alone. Even children in the northern territories are aware of that. They move in violent clusters during dangerous raids or territorial hands. They do not simply stroll into Nightbane boarders to lust after women beneath the sacred moonlight like mindless beasts.

A once happy and loving family tore apart by utter grief, sadness, and tragedy. When the ambulance finally arrived at the scene, they were horrified. At that instant, they knew they could be no survivors in this horrific scene. To their greatest shock they saw a 5-year-old boy tucked in the arms of a woman with blood all over her body, legs broken due to the impact of the crash, he was still, eyes closed, the paramedics feared for the worst. They were on the way to bring a jack when a heard a faint groan. "Quick bring the jack and the stretcher!!!"

They are mentioned in chilled whispers as "Death's Ice." The Grim Fangs Pack are the most hated and feared, including themselves, formerly a coven of witches that led the war against werewolves, only to be cursed by the Moon Goddess to become the very thing they hated. Their power and traits come from the very despair and hatred that stems from within.

Now let's talk about my other books. Nightmare Land is not changing, but I am re-editing the first 18 chapters, which I will try to finish as soon as I can. Again, I will try to get the re-edits out with a new chapter, so just bear with me. Not only that, but I'm trying to add on a new book called Dark Tales of the Alive Undead. I have received no response about that either, but I'm waiting for an entire week to see if my editor will respond. I know they say to wait a whole month for new books, but this is also about my other books.

He rubbed her belly, looking out at the stars. "We'll make a world among these stars. For us and for our child. I love you, Ophelia. And I will give you whatever you wish." "You don't need to do that, Hades. We have each other—" "How touching," Hades pushed Ophelia behind him. "You again?" Grim smirked. "The name's Grim, girly boy." Hades clenched his teeth. "What do you want?" "A slight warning. Your house burning wasn't a coincidence. It took me two days to track you, they're best tracker will have you in a few more. I'd leave the states if I were you." Grim explained.

Fuck! I slammed my palms on the desk in frustration. My pen rolled off and hit the floor. Damn it. How was I supposed to find one hidden bloodline with nothing to go on? No name. No face. Nothing. I'd sent Grimshaw out to comb through the city for answers, but I didn't trust him to do any wonders. He was good with brawn, things that required his power. Brainwork wasn't his cup of tea. A wave of fear swept through me as I thought of the situation. The Dracthari didn't care about my excuses. They wanted results. If word got back to them that a Guardian still walked this earth, breathing, unaccounted for, it would cost me everything..

Perfect footing for a creature that didn’t breathe. Grim appeared out of the tree line like smoke given muscle, slate-gray and massive, eyes bright with predator focus. He didn’t slow as he passed me, only angled his head slightly, confirming I was on the scent too. "This way." Then he vanished again. I followed. The wards hummed faintly at the edges of my awareness—like a wall I couldn’t see but could feel. Something had slipped through them. That detail mattered. That detail was a threat with intelligence behind it.

So in their eyes, I was nothing more than a tool to be completely drained of worth. The storm felt as though it were freezing my organs solid, but I summoned the last of my strength, curled my fingers and pushed the car door open again. My stiff limbs gave way the moment I stepped out, and I fell hard into the snow. Hearing the noises from my end, Zachary scoffed, his sneer almost visible in his voice. "No way, are you trying to rupture the heating pipes again? You can't even bear to hurt a mouse, so why are you acting all scary now?

“Sorry, but I'm having trouble believing a talking skull has good intentions.” The air became cold as ice. He turned on his heels, cloak whirling furiously. “Talking skull? Oh, that,” he chuckled, drawing his hood back slightly and bringing his face into the light. The grinning skull shook with laughter. “Do I scare you, Callie Parker? Because underneath that pretty flesh, you're just like me.” He drew closer. “Do you know what the word grimnir means, Callie?” he asked, drawing his fingers across his stony brow. “Like grim? Yeah. Creepy. Like you.”