Hazel Rainart Novels & Stories

Mia's head shot up to look at him immediately "There's a way for us to get few steps closer to these creatures. I have found the solution that could put away the Zombies once and for all. They are supposed to be dead but someone keeps creating their existence and with them gone fear will arise in the vamps and weres" "Tartal is the mastermind. So, are you saying we should abduct Tartal?" "No, we take possession of the foolish orb that he uses to create these. The other time I attacked during their blood hunt, I heard one of them speak of a fading orb, it may not be exactly the route of the zombies but it could still help us tarnish his plans" "That's a good plan Raven. If all is done against

The rain on the western ridge did not merely fall; it drove sideways, a relentless sheet of freezing highland water that turned the peat and heather into a thick, clinging mire. Tala stood perfectly motionless at the absolute precipice of the ridge, her feet dug firmly into the ancient earth. The storm howled around her, ripping at her clothes, but her spun-copper hair seemed to dance with a life of its own, vibrant against the dark, bruising gray of the sky. Her icy blue eyes were fixed on the valley below, tracking the glowing halogen headlights of Malakai’s heavy excavation armor as the machinery slowly ground its way toward the first sacred threshold.

“Finn’s mother is not a fan of mountains and rivers. She’s more interested in portraits.” Then she suddenly laughed. “I had my eyes on a beautiful painting, but unfortunately, the art gallery refused to sell it to me.” “Really? Let’s go and have a look.” “All right.” Hazel nodded and led me to another hall. Hazel took a fancy to a painting of a young girl. The girl was dressed in a white robe—it was colored with golden paint, which represented the light of a totem. Obviously, she was a witch. The painting had bright colors, the brush strokes elegant. The woman in the painting was wearing an old-fashioned white dress and had dark-colored hair. The overall painting brought positive energy.

Hazel, who was busy drawing, raised her hand. "I'm free too." Darius looked at her. "You don't have meetings." "But I have school." Aurora laughed. "That's work too." Hazel looked proud. "I'm a hard worker." Toward evening, Aurora stood by the living room window. A light rain had begun to fall. For some reason, her head started to feel heavy again. It wasn't particularly painful. But enough to make her close her eyes for a few moments. Darius had just walked in and noticed immediately.

Now the sister who once threatened her place in the family had disappeared completely. Then her expression froze when one comment stood out from the others. [Are you sure everything you're saying is true? I'm Rainie's classmate. I had never seen her bully anyone, let alone her own sister. She often skipped class activities to take care of you. She was incredibly talented at painting, but she gave up art class because of your illness. Would someone like that really hurt her sister?] Soon, more voices appeared. [I'm Rainie's art teacher. She was the most talented and kind student I have ever taught. She quit art entirely because she said the smell of paint made her sister sick. A child like th

“You have another copy of it right? I would be taking this one home. I’ll type everything and send you the document to sign via mail.” “Okay then,” she smiled. “Nice meeting you Mr. Storm.” “The pleasure is mine, Miss Hail,” I smiled back. “Its Hall,” she corrected. “Samantha Hall.” “I’d prefer hail,” I said. “Storm and Hail. They go together well don’t you think?” She was about to say something when I noticed two men on leather jackets moving towards me from the corner of my eyes. I turned around quickly and saw the pistol. “Samantha!”

A girl who deserved better. ………… Arden hadn't moved from the watch tower balcony sunset bled across the sky, painting the courtyard gold. The journal sat on the stone railing, closed now l, but its words carved into his skull. “I don't think I'm lucky to be alive”. Movement below caught his eyes. Hazel. She was in the garden courtyard, piper spinning her around by the hands like they were children . Hazel was laughing. Head tipped back, ginger hair catching the dying light like fire. Three days here and she was finally laughing but he wasn't the reason, he lived the unguarded joy on her face .

“Complicated. Conflicted. Probably something like lemon meringue, but with a twist. Maybe jalapeño.” “What?” Jesse made a face. “That’s not a twist, that’s a crime.” “Art is pain,” Rain said solemnly. I grinned. “What about me?” Rain tilted his head at me, his expression softening. “You’d be… peach and lavender. Sweet, but stronger than it looks. Like summer after a storm.” There was a pause. “Okay,” Jesse muttered, looking away. “That one was actually kind of nice.” “Ugh, don’t encourage him,” Colby groaned.

As an exploration geologist, I'm caught in a landslide during a mission, and one of my arms is crushed. Before we set out, our exploration team has accurately predicted the weather. There's no chance of heavy rain that day. It isn't until I overhear my wife, Diana Nelson, talking to a doctor friend that I learn the truth. "Diana, you knew Adam was going out on a mission that day, yet you spent a fortune on creating cloud seeding just to get him injured and eventually cost him an arm. You really went too far for Flynn." Diana frowns. "Who told him to care so much about that exploration project? The only way the project can go to Flynn is if Adam gets disabled. "Otherwise, Flynn will be s

His deep pink lips parted. “Shane Harley sir.” He introduced himself, sticking his hand out. Mr. Davis had no problems shaking it. Mr. Spencer followed by example. “I’m Raine’s… I mean, Ms. Mcclaren’s shadow for the next few months.” Mr. Davises face beamed. “You should consider yourself a lucky kid!”