Hopes Peak Book Novels & Stories

The hope that survived long enough to become real. Someone had carried it. Protected it. Believed in it. For generations. For years beyond counting. The library door stood open behind her. Warm light spilling into the rooftop garden. A bridge between memory and possibility. Then Hope asked the question only Hope would ask. "So..." Elowen looked at her. Hope pointed dramatically toward the library. "Are there books about us?" The rooftop groaned collectively. Priorities. Terrible priorities. Elowen laughed harder than anyone had heard all night.

Writer’s pov Hope decided to visit the nearest store so she could get an HCG pregnancy test so she could find out if she is pregnant. Hope didn’t know if it’s too early to check but she was too curious. She picked about five and paid for them. She made sure to cover her face very well so she wouldn't get recognized by anyone in the store. While she was heading back to the pack house, she lowered her head trying her best not to get noticed. After a short walk she finally arrived at the pack house. Hope's heart dropped when she noticed Alpha Daniel mother’s car in the house. She left a few minutes ago, how is she back so soon?

“Please.” The pull flares suddenly, sharp enough to steal my breath. Karl is close. Damon too. Something is happening. Something big. I close my eyes, letting my senses stretch just a little more than they should. The dungeon hums louder in response, the stone vibrating under me. Hope is a dangerous thing. But for the first time since they locked this door, it slips in anyway. And it refuses to leave.

"The ship’s breaking up." June looked at the ruined Library, the shards, the mess. This room held the truth of her family—their shame, their greed, and their blood. "Wait," Hope said. She stepped up, picked up the two halves of the leaden key, and placed them in the oven. "The debt is paid," she said. "But the Library stays. Let it be a moon for the new world—a warning, not a weapon." "She’s right," June said. They scrambled for the pod. Dante secured Hope first, then June. The Auditor dove in last, clutching a crumbling recipe book. Through the window, June watched their marble tomb shrink in the starlight.

He marked. “She gave you what?” I raised an eyebrow. He looked me straight in the eye, and for the first time today, I saw a bright smile on his face. It was as if realization had just dawned on him, and finally, he could see the whole picture. “She gave me… HOPE.” END OF BOOK 2 To be continued…

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now? Hope is the most addictive substance on this earth, Ember. More addictive than the herbs, more destructive than anything Rafael ever put in a compound. I have been HOPING for months. I hoped when they said six months. I hoped when the coughing started. I hoped when the blood came and I told myself it was just irritation. I hoped every single morning when I opened my eyes and thought maybe today the tests would come back different, maybe today the trajectory would change, maybe today would be the day someone told me I wasn’t dying.” She’s gasping between the words and the gasping is wet and laboured and the tissue in her hand is soaked

We shared a deep bond, forged through countless battles and hardships, and I trusted him implicitly. As I entered the room where David awaited me, his eyes filled with determination, I knew that he sought answers. He needed the information I had gathered during my visit to the police station, the pieces of the puzzle that would help us unravel the truth. Mrs. Hope's disappearance was no ordinary case; it was intertwined with the intricate workings of the supernatural world that lurked beneath the surface of Crescentville.

As they ate, they talked about everything and nothing — dreams, books, places they wanted to visit. Alex confessed he wanted to buy a cabin by the lake someday, somewhere to disappear from the world when the noise got too loud. Clara told him about her childhood dreams of becoming a novelist, before life had knocked her off course. “You still can,” Alex said firmly, pouring her another glass of wine. “You will.” She believed him. Later, as they lay tangled together beneath the sheets, Clara realized something: This wasn’t just happiness. It was hope. And for the first time in a long, long time, she wasn't afraid to reach for it.

Aria’s POV I still feel the heat under my palms, the floor trembling before the roof caved. Smoke tastes like old promises. I run with Hope pressed to my chest, her hair smelling of ash and moonflowers, and each step feels like leaving pieces of myself behind. “It’s all right, baby,” I whisper, as words steady us both. Hope buries her face in my neck and makes a noise...half-breath, half-laugh...like she doesn’t see the danger. She never does. She only knows the warmth of my arms and my heartbeat’s rhythm.

Whether you're loving someone of the opposite gender, the same gender, both, neither, or still figuring it out, your heart deserves honesty, safety, passion, and kindness. Don't settle for less. You are not too much, you are not broken. You are exactly who someone out there will choose every single day. Thank you for trusting me with your emotions and your time. If this story ever made you feel seen, hopeful, angry in a cathartic way, or even just a little less alone, then it did what I dreamed it would. With endless gratitude and so much love, HO PE (Your author, still crying over these two idiots finding each other) 💛