Hunter-gardener Novels & Stories

A look of excitement flashes in the cashier’s eyes, and I suppress a sigh, not liking the look of greed on his face. “Anyways, thanks for the help, but my husband is waiting for me at home.” The lie flow smoothly from my lips as I close the tailgate to the truck and thank the teens for their help. The cashier, understanding the conversation is done, backs away as I climb into the driver’s seat and drive off, heading back to Uncle Hunter’s place. The first thing I will need to do is clean off all the ivy vines growing on the walls of the greenhouse with the rake I bought. I knew I needed something that could hook onto the plant and give me leverage to tug the ivy vines down, and was happy whe

The garden was not just a place to be visited; it was home. Centuries flowed like a gentle river. The Nexus became the heart of a civilization that spanned galaxies and dimensions, a tapestry of lives so vast no single mind could comprehend it all. The title of "Gardener" evolved. There were now Planetary Tenders, who nurtured individual worlds. Weave-Wardens, who maintained the health of the connections between realities. Dream-Shepherds, who guided the collective unconscious of nascent species. And yes, the Temporal Gardeners, who gently pruned paradoxes and nurtured healthy timelines.

The memories I had poured into the blade—the pain, the love, the struggle—flowed back into them like a flood. Harkan stood up, his eyes turning back to their fierce, defiant gold. He looked at the white tree, then at the silver shears. "FOR THE PACK!" Harkan roared. Thousands of wolves let out a cry that shook the heavens. They didn't run away; they charged the tree. They climbed the silver branches, they tore at the marble bark with their teeth, they used their own shadows to smother the light. The Gardener was fading, her form flickering between the silver woman and a terrifying, skeletal machine.

He walks over to the plant and breaks a piece of it open, releasing the scent into the air. “No, it’s not.” Puzzled, I look around again. I can’t figure it out. I believe it’s coming from the cloves. But there’d be no problem with putting cloves in food or cleaning sensation. I’m not familiar with cloves or much shifter food, so I will have to take Jerim’s word for it that all of this is healthy for them. “Who maintains the garden?” “Franklin is our head gardener,” he says. “He’s also a clinician.”

on my light pink gown. Who cared anyway, Well, a lot of people care about it, but I didn't, I was too awesome for that. The forest came into clear, to revealed a small circle patch without trees looming over it, stood a house. Wooden, light brown, matching the color of dry ground below it, it stood tall but barely there. I inhaled, gathered all my courage and stepped closer to the house, my guards long gone. They didn't know the way to the small shabby house of the warrior. A house where i would knock at soon. I raised my hand to knock on the cracked old wooden door. "Who are you looking for?" A deep rough voice startled me. I almost jumped three feet in the air. I turned slowly to

AVA Without another word, Hunter moves swiftly away from the lockers, passing by his two friends whose names I'm guessing are Preston and Gomorey. They had been gawking at Hunter with a mischievous grin playing on their lips, and Hunter didn't waste a chance to shoot them both with his penetrating glare. I noticed their pupils retrench as they stared at him, meaning they were conversing with each other through mindlink. It was brief, lasting a couple of seconds before Hunter turns left and straight down the now-empty halls.

he greeted right after seeing me, the tone of his voice changed. Warren, huh? A small sly grin crept to my face before bowing his head a little to me. "He's our new gardener, Miss Claudia. He will be the one who's going to be in charge of the garden's performance." He was hot. He had massive biceps and tan skin. Sure, he looks Asian but a little touch of being French according to his physique, height, traits I could distinguish just by looking at him intently. "Besides, he specialized in medicine and I suggested that he plant a lot of herbal plants there." Lisa uttered with a happy tone.

They were like specially trained assassins and even supernaturals with all their abilities find it out to shake them off. That's who my family were, the Holmes. My father was a hunter, his father was a hunter then my great grand mother was a hunter and it went on like that, as far back as centuries. It was a mantle that has always been passed from generations to generations and it was my turn now. My name is Edna Holmes, the latest hunter from the Holmes family. I hunt wolves and vampires for a living. My reason? Mine was a little different from the others who fought to protect.

Two fingers scoop his leaking cum from my pussy and paint it across my lips. “Open.” I suck them clean, moaning. “Good girl,” he praises. “Now wave goodbye.” I lift one trembling hand and wave at the empty street, tits still pressed to the glass, cum dripping down my thighs. He chuckles darkly. “That was just the warm-up.” By noon the gardeners are here. Two guys with mowers and leaf blowers, trimming the hedges right outside the pool house. The door is cracked open six inches, hot summer air pouring in.

"I..." "I've said too much." He quickly turned to leave. Emily hurried after him. "Wait!" "Please!" "How did you know my mother?" The old man stopped walking. His shoulders trembled. "I worked here many years ago." "Your mother often visited this garden." Emily's heart raced. "Why?" Before he could answer— A loud gunshot echoed through the garden. BANG! The old gardener's eyes widened. A dark stain spread across his shirt. He collapsed onto the ground.