Jameson Hawthorne Novels & Stories

Chapter 1 James’ POV The cabin smelled of pine, old paper, and the faint metallic tang of arousal by the fourth night. Ella Whitstone had arrived four days earlier with her battered leather satchel, sensible cardigan, and the wide-eyed reverence of every fresh literature graduate who believes she’s about to meet a living legend. At sixty, I knew the truth: I was just a dirty old man with one final book clawing its way out of me, and she was the pretty young thing foolish enough to lock herself away with me for two weeks to transcribe it.

“Don’t think I’m going to let you off on the essay pertaining to why the Amendments we have were ratified and not the others.” “There was always hope,” called James. “Nice try. Get to work.” He pulled out his tablet from Eliza’s book bag at the floor of their seat and after handing over her own, he began to tap on the screen in order to get to his book he needed to read. “What’re you doing to do first?” Eliza whispered. “The easiest,” James shrugged nonchalantly. “I need to read Ernest Hemingway’s ‘The old man and the sea’ for English.”

I explained. “And who are you?” “I am the hired hand of the Order. That is all you need to know.” I stated as I calmly finished my drink. “And what order would that be?” He asked, annoyed, “Thanks to you I lost my supper.” He sighed, staring off into the crowd. "You should know we, after all, have taken out so many of your kin," as he stared at me blankly, I added, " it’s the ancient order of Valhalla Bridge.”

Harrison looked at me. It didn’t look forgiveness or any of the things I’d spent seven years begging for, but I didn’t care anymore. He just nodded. “James Donovan-Emerson,” he said. “Yeah. That works.” I looked down at James. His mouth opened in a yawn so enormous it consumed his entire face—the lips stretching, the chin dropping, the eyes squeezing shut—and then it was over. His face settled back and he was sleeping again. “He’s got your hands,” Harrison said quietly.

Kathleen tried to thrust the dagger into her back, but she parried it with one flick of her wrist. As Emory’s fangs dug deep into Kathleen’s throat, her hands weakly clawed at Emory’s back, trying to push her away, but the effort was futile. Once her teeth gripped her larynx, Emory tore her throat out. Blood spurted from the gaping hole, staining the ground as Kathleen’s body slumped to the ground in a lifeless heap. Emory watched the light slowly fade from Kathleen’s eyes as she took one last ragged breath before going still. A wave of guilt washed over her as she caught her breath. She had just killed a person, and no matter how justified it was, it felt awful.

Jensen’s POV The next morning I woke early and went downstairs to the kitchen. I decided that I wanted to show off my mad cooking skills, plus Lynn and I had a big day ahead of us. I went to work making pancakes, bacon, sausage, and eggs. I had learned to cook from Mike and Catherine’s mother. She had taken me in as one of her kids and she was an amazing woman. When she and James died it had killed me just as much as it killed Mike and Catherine. I tried to shake off the memory and went back to cooking. I had coffee going and the table was set. I was just about done when I heard a husky voice behind me. “So, you like to cook huh? It smells great son.” I turned and saw Cornelius standing in t

On the sidelines of his busy work, James channeled his hobby of writing novels. The Fifty Shades of Gray that he wrote was originally a fictional story that he wrote in January 2009 and then he posted on the Twilight fan site. James goes by the pseudonym Snowqueen's Icedragon. However, because then many were worried about the sex ingredient in the story, James then deleted his short story from the site. He moved his short stories to his own website, FiftyShades.com. He also later rewrote the novel which was originally titled 'Master of the Universe' and changed the names of the two characters to Christian Gray and Anastasia Steel. James does not deny that his novel is said to be inspired by

She decided to relax on her bed a bit, slowly she drifted off to sleep. Nathaniel Hawthorne sat in his office, lost in thought, struggling to come to terms with the mate bond he shared with the Omega. His wolf was restless, and his mind was consumed by thoughts of the Omega, more than he cared to admit. He growled, rubbing his forehead, and removed his glasses, feeling frustrated and out of control.

She’s also mourning the loss of our little one, we both are. She had warned me that Sage was cheating on us, but I was in love. I didn't listen. Maybe if I had paid more attention, things would have been different. I went to a secret corner of the house and removed my clothes, shifted into my wolf, and started running off into the forest. My white fur whipped through the air as I ran faster on my fore and hind limbs. How was I reborn two years back and why? Who is He? And why is he coming?

Minutes later, Ichabod could hear a swift movement behind the shelves and out came a short man in a black tail coat and a large hat which made him look like all those wizards you see in movies like Harry Potter. “Ah! If it isn’t my old friend.” Johhny said cheerfully. “It has been a while since I last saw you. Are you having nightmares again?” “No.” Adams replied, “I would like you to meet someone.” He said, “this is Ichabod Nuel.” Johnny laid his eyes on Ichabod and scanned him from head to toe. A serious smile cracked upon his lips. “Ah. I can see you haven’t come alone young man.”