Hood Urban Books Novels & Stories

It wasn't much but it still was something. A new gate had been put to prevent just anyone from getting access to the male hostel. The gate was black, and tall — almost thrice as tall as Harold, and looked like it was crowned with prongs. Harold wondered if any of the changes was because of what had happened last semester. He didn't let that bother him. He reached the gate. Right before he got in, to his right, a young man with a permanent scowl on his face sat under the sun. He had a desk before him and a lot of paperwork sprawled all around.

Hence, she put it back in its spot among other dusty books and walked to another shelf. She came across a couple of other books but she knew none of them will give her any information on what she sought after; ‘Moon Goddess' Mate’ by U. Tipper, ‘The Hybrid's special Guide’ by L. O. Klark, ‘Tribid Greed’ by Steve Reynolds, and a lot of other books.

Come pick a bouquet from these Flowers in a Dumpster. Eidolon Avenue: The First Feast by Jonathan Winn—where the secretly guilty go to die. All thrown into their own private hell as every cruel choice, every deadly mistake, every drop of spilled blood is remembered, resurrected and relived to feed the ancient evil that lives on Eidolon Avenue. Through a Mirror, Darkly by Kevin Lucia—Are there truths within the books we read? What if the book delves into the lives of the very town you live in? People you know? Or thought you knew. These are the questions a bookstore owner face when a mysterious book shows up.

The bookstore was more crowded than usual. A new controversial book had been published on the war between the three humanity derived races and it had crashed the internet, so people were coming in by the droves to pick up hard copies. It was said that it was actually being denounced by the leaders of the vampires, werewolves, and humans, so it made one wonder how it got published in the first place. It also made it that much more desirable.

Annie spent the rest of the afternoon catching up on some work for the following week as Hugh lay on the sofa reading the book that he had borrowed from her house, he found the chapter on Werewolves and started to read. “You sell this in the human world?” asked Hugh. “It tells them everything about us, how to hurt and kill us, isn’t that dangerous?” Annie looked round at him. “No, that book was published by wolf publishers for the wolf world. I wrote two versions, one for us and one for the humans.” “There are wolf publishers?” he looked surprised.

This time it had been a park, one of those small ones in the middle of a suburban neighbourhood that we stopped in, to camp out for the night, surrounded by houses that had no doubt once been beautiful. The houses themselves had obviously been abandoned for years, the windows were cracked or had panes of glass missing entirely, the occasional pane that was still intact was opaque with the years of grime that had built up. The brick walls were covered in old graffiti, written by the homeowners or squatters that had taken refuge over the years and pleaded for help, for salvation. The once lush green lawns were now brown and withered with weeds a meter tall, and in amongst such obvious signs of