Grimstone Sophie Lark Novels & Stories

The packhouse was quiet, everyone exhausted from the day's drama. Sophie waited at the old oak tree, bouncing with nervous energy. "Finally! Come on, Grandmother's waiting." We ran through the forest to a cottage I'd never seen before, hidden by ancient magic that made my skin tingle. Inside, Sophie's grandmother sat by a fire, her blind eyes somehow seeing straight through me. "Mona Blackstone," she said. "Or should I say, Mona Bloodmoon?" "What?" I sank into a chair. "My name is—"

“Zilo Graves is a gardener who thinks he is a king. He hunts you because he fears the change you represent. I, however, find change to be the only currency worth collecting. You aren't a project to me. You are a map to a world I thought was lost to history.” “I’m not a map,” Sofia said, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. She felt the violet energy in her veins surge, responding to her anger. The air around her fingers began to ripple with a faint, distorted Glamour. “I’m the one who’s going to find the Heartstone and bury Zilo Graves with it. If you’re in my way, Montague, you’re just another obstacle.”

The losers, the loners, the unwanted are Rogues. It may be true, but that didn’t make me any less of a leader. Grace was highly looked up to and sought after in the werewolf world, and if I could make her my mate, I would finally be taken seriously. Maybe I could even earn myself a spot on the Council. But, I had to get her to talk to me, first. ~Grace~ “Starve yourself all you want, you’ll never be pretty,” Sophia’s grating voice cut through the room as she slammed another plate of food down next to me.

To be honest, if I weren’t so desperate to know the truth, I would have already left with Dolly. The round-faced girl smiled at me. “I get it. Oh, by the way, Miss White, my name is Sophie Lane. I work in HR, mostly running errands. You can just call me Sophie.” As she spoke, she pulled out a large pouch. “I’ve got all kinds of things in here. Let’s see what you need.” Like a magician, she started pulling out foundation, lipstick, powder puffs—even a small bottle of peppermint oil for headaches.

Grimkeeper had realized quickly that she was not as untouchable as she believed herself to be. “I am merely thinking of a plan, that is all,” Grimkeeper rumbled. “A drachma for your thought?” Terra asked playfully. Grimkeeper almost scoffed in disdain. “I am thinking of adding a new warrior to my side,” Grimkeeper said. Terra’s face lit up in excitement. “Who do you have in mind?” She squealed in excitement. “Sophia Laurent,” Grimkeeper replied. “Oh,” Terra said in a disappointed tone. “Another woman.” “Jealousy is an emotion that I despise, Terra,” Grimkeeper rumbled. “Especially from a Succubus.”

There must be a misunderstanding," he comments. Sarah scoffs and is about to say something, but I cut her off. "We just said that to get your attention. It was consensual. Thanks for your time, Jared," I say, glancing at his name tag. The bartender smiles and nods as we leave the club. Today, I had to skip class to travel to the heart of New York City. Standing before me is a tall skyscraper with a large G logo. After researching online with my friends, we discovered that Jake Rodrick is the owner of Gio Industries. I can't believe I slept with the freaking owner of Gio Industries!

It simply disintegrated, then reappeared back in the car. “Sick bastard,” I spat. He'd been stalking me. I tore a slim black book from the rat pile. Book of Psychopomps was etched on it in gold ink. Numbers, emails, and old-fashioned addresses accompanied names, written in no apparent order. I rifled through the pages: “Old farts: ODIN, MORRIGAN, YAMA, HERMES....” and “New pests: ANAESTHESIA, AIDS, SANTA MUERTE...” A red ribbon marked a page at the back. “Accessories: SHANNON PARKER.”

It must be hard tumbling around in someone's pocket. "Now, we don't have much time," Owlyn spoke again. "The Groundsler would come looking for us here. You have to break the spell." "I told you I don't know how to..." "It's the poem," this time it was the frog who spoke. Cassandra tossed the frog from her hands with a yelp of surprise. She still hadn't gotten used to her speaking ability yet, and it freaked her out. In fact, after the fear of death wore off, Cassandra started to view the frog with the same squeamish uneasiness again.

Her eyes were swirling orbs of silver, similar to Dmitri’s black eyes when Arkadi had control. “Shit,” I jumped off the sofa, drawing her attention to me, “back down Bo!” “He’s a coward,” she growled through clenched teeth. “He’s just concerned for his packs’ wellbeing the same as we are,” I stepped towards her, “I am asking, I’m telling you to back down, now!” Sophie’s body sagged slightly as her eyes returned to normal, “I’m so sorry.” She sucked in a breath and shook her head. She looked over to Dmitri, “does it always feel like someone sucked all the air out of you when she does that?”

“Just… allergies.” Hargrove narrowed her eyes. “This is your third warning. One more disruption, and you’re out.” She hovered a moment longer, then left. Under the table, Sophia chuckled softly, vibrations humming against me. “Close one,” she whispered, then dove back in. Her tongue lapped greedily, exploring every fold, dipping inside to curl against my walls. I rocked subtly, chasing more, but forced stillness above the table. Sweetness mixed with the pornographic heat—her love in every lick, every gentle bite to my inner thigh.