Inferno Novel Dan Brown Novels & Stories

I curled up on the floor, felt a rush of iron in my throat—and coughed up a mouthful of blood. That bright-eyed boy I used to be—the one who still had hope—faded into nothing. After that, I had nothing left to live for. Until just now, when this wretched, drifting life of mine finally ended. Matthew, your big brother is coming to join you. I've finally paid for my sin.

“We’re going to get our son back,’ Ash promised quietly. “Trust me.” “Always.” ************************* The cold dungeon in hell reminded him of Dante’s Inferno. Bright had never liked when he read those kind of books. He called them “guilt-inducing” and then would offer Ray a half dozen alternatives. He had had a lot of time to read though, and Dante’s trilogy had been some of the books which stuck in his mind. “It’s good that you came so willingly.” Monika voice dripped with condescension. “I’ll give you a treat for doing so well.”

“Come on. I’ll take you upstairs to rest.” He stood and guided her toward the stairs. Finn and Calvin exchanged a look. Then they followed right after them. God, I wanted to go eavesdrop so badly. Linda, sitting beside me, muttered under her breath, “Slutty bitch.” That jogged my memory. There was a drugging subplot around this part of the story. If I remembered correctly, Linda was the culprit. She had been secretly in love with Calvin for years, but Calvin only had eyes for Nancy. In the original novel, she managed to drug him, but afterward he turned the tables and dosed her ten times worse, leaving her stranded with no help. She ended up with a terrible fate.

Wasting no time looking back, she pushed through the crowd toward the door. She seemed to hear Dana's shout. Soldiers laughing with prostitutes gathered around, blocking her path. One soldier lunged and fell; another groaned in pain and retreated; a third, a fourth... Caught off guard, she forced a path through them. By the time she threw herself at the door, she could no longer see clearly. Bright, dazzling light spun like a vortex, and her soul seemed to float. She bumped into someone and stumbled, falling. The door closed again, and hope vanished with it. Her fingertips tried to grasp something but were powerless. She lost consciousness instantly.

Did he really just write his name using his cum? There is only one book I’ve read where the morally grey character did that. I remember it vividly because my jaw was on the floor and if the author had asked for my soul to bring him to life, I would have said yes without hesitation. Not only is Dane giving me big bad daddy Dom, but in a short period, he’s given me everything I need. But this? He’s doing the Goddess’ work by bringing a smut slut’s dreams to life.

There was no space for pity thinking that there might be a way out of it. ‎I slumped against the wall of the building and gazed up at the moonless night sky. ‎I doubt there would be a way out of it without feeling burdened about betraying the family's background and foundation. However, there was also no point and no end to killing... ‎I watched silently as a conspicuous cloud floated by. It looked like the face of a person. With it's dark brownish hair and brown eyes and loud personality.. it almost looked like someone I've seen before .

LAZZARO I sped at a dangerous speed, cornering him and blocking his car. Without hesitation, I jumped out of my car and approached his, knocking on his window. “Fuck!” He growled and banged his fist on the steering wheel before eventually opening the door and stepping out. “What do you want? Why did you follow me?” he growled. “Enzo Bianchi.” I folded my arms across my chest, observing him closely. “Back from the dead, I guess. Tell me, did you have this all planned?”

From then on, I had no choice but to turn a blind eye to the matter. Today, however, I was acting so boldly because of my rebirth. In my past life, on this very day, Summer and Jean had gone to the market after putting something to cook in the oven. I'd gone out with a friend to buy some things. When I returned, the dorm was already on fire. Summer had been terrified at the sight of the flames. She'd muttered to Jean, "How could this happen? Nothing's ever gone wrong with that oven." Jean was more terrified than her. She'd trembled all over. "I-I don't know. Maybe it wasn't the oven."

Elian stopped at the cliff's edge and looked at it. "There's a section of the novel," he said, rain on his face, "where the character stands somewhere high and looks at something enormous and understands for the first time that enormity is not threatening. That it's just — true. And true things don't require you to do anything with them." "The novel has that scene," Dante said. "The novel has that scene," Elian confirmed. "I wrote it in the Azores." He paused. "I understand it better here." "Why here?" Dante said.

Flames roared to life, devouring wood and metal with insatiable hunger. The inferno spread greedily, orange tongues licking up walls, black smoke billowing into the sky like a signal flare to Alexei wherever he hid. Dante stood motionless, watching it burn, the heat searing his skin but doing nothing to thaw the ice in his veins. This was just the beginning. Alexei's backups, his suppliers, his allies, his hidden networks, would all feel the blaze. Every contact traced through Anton's leaked logs would be next: safehouses razed, convoys ambushed, lieutenants hunted down in their beds.