Haymitch Games Book Novels & Stories

Wrong. The first few titles I sift through are the kind I expected to find in a place like this: image-heavy coffee table books about the estate. They have titles like Huntington Manor: A Photographic Tour, or The Architecture of Huntington Manor. Or even Settlers of Barberville: A History of the Region. But buried beneath all of those, I find a book that makes my insides twist. It's called The Cunninghams: The Unauthorized Story. I stare down at the gold embossed letters on the cover. This is a joke, right? This can't be real.

* I wiped the blood off my face, my eyes turning as cold as ice. I finally understood the essence of this game. Play the White Moonlight? Die. Play the Maid? Die. Play the Family? Die. As long as you are "human," as long as you approach him with a goal, you are a dead end. Because in his eyes, "human" is synonymous with betrayal. I want to win. So I can't be human. "System," I gripped the hourglass tightly. "I don't want a physical body." [Player Halen, your request violates the rules.]

The sharp, tangy scent of metal fills my nostrils, sending a shiver of exhilaration down my spine. My body moves on autopilot, years of street fights and mob wars kicking in as I dodge and weave, my gun barking with deadly precision. One by one, the suits fall, their bodies hitting the ground with dull thuds. But my victory is short-lived as more goons pour through the door like rats from a sinking ship.

Outside, the sun climbed higher. And somewhere beyond locks, beyond fire, beyond distance, Damon Moretti was still playing the long game. End of Book 1.

I am dead. I am so dead, I screamed in my thoughts. A cold lump was building up in my throat as if I was about to choke before swallowing it, though my heart kept pounding against my chest. “The sad part is that you’ll no longer remember the god you met and all the events happening in this world,” Rad said. “And you go back to your normal lives like it was yesterday. It sucks, but it’s for the best. And also part of the rules of the Game.”

I pee a lot, and smelling and seeing things that are sensitive to my body makes me puke. "Liam, just leave the poor girl alone." Sydney stepped in and pressed those breasts of hers on Liam's arm. "Come on. The book is a room. So we are going to have loads of fun." Loads of fun, indeed. "Just give me a minute," Liam brushed Sydney off, making her pout. "Lily, are you okay?" I scoffed.

"I doubt he believes in that, Chase. I don't even know what rules he goes by. And I feel like he has this dark vendetta against us." "Right," Chase said. "But whatever happens, you have to be perceptive. You need to keep your head on. You need to be prepared. Sleep with a gun under your pillow or something. If he's playing a game, then beat the shit out of him. You're the toughest fighter I know, Caty. No one can pull you down. Not a man, and especially not Lucas De Marchi." Yeah. Especially not Lucas De Marchi. ~*~

“Let me make you a plate.” Aiden growled under his breath. “Don’t need your help.” Bryan scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Stop acting like I’m trying to poison you, new toy.” Aiden crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the ache in his ribs. “Stop pretending to be nice.” “I’m not pretending,” Bryan replied, sounding almost offended. “I made too much this time. I’d rather share than waste it. So eat it if you want.” He slid a full bowl of steaming oats across the table toward Aiden.

Must you chase everyone? Running to any man, yet I desire you alone. Will I wait ‘til you love me with all your heart? --- Leah smiled. She knew the handwriting. The way the question mark had a loop on the heads was a dead giveaway. The poem was Patrick Sylas’ scribbles. She found it interesting that the first letter of the words on each line spelled out her name. “So that’s how it is,” Leah smiled, excited. “I’ll drop by in a bit.”

I asked him nervously. Elijah stared at me as if what he was about to tell me was heavy. "The myth says that if a living is able to hear the necromancer's voice and understands it...it only means you have a terrible fate or...impending death," he answered me. I felt like I was going to run out of breath because of what I heard. I'm afraid, I feel like I came to this world wrong. I should be in the world of normal people, the ones who have no idea about this. 'All I can think about is work, house bills. It's not like there seems to be a curse attached to my life just because I understand the words of necromancers.