Killer Cross Over Novels & Stories

I swallow. He’s serious. I can see it in his eyes. He means every word. “Mike” I start but he cuts me off with a wave of his hand. “Look inside” he says clenching his jaw. “His wife, kids. Even his side chicks and their kids are there man. Nobody walks” “You want to kill kids now, Mike?” “They’re not kids anymore,” he snapped. “They’re Delmont’s blood.” “I’m not a murderer, Mike”

“If you touch me that way were going to have a major problem on our hand Conner. We should be hiding, asleep in fact.” “You look too perfect not to.” Warm hands caressed my face and then down my body leaving a trail of fire in their wake. BANG There’s blood. Everywhere. I’m being pulled. I can’t fight. I don’t fight. They killed him. The love of my life. They’ll kill me next. Tears run down my face as I succumb to my faith.

"A young woman vanishes without a trace. No evidence. No leads. As if she simply... ceased to exist." "The story fascinated me. I dug deeper, trying to find the truth behind the disappearance — until I came across a novel." My body went rigid. "What did you just say? A novel?" "The world we're in right now — it's a novel. I stumbled into it the same way you did. That's when I realized you didn't just disappear. You crossed over, just like me." "I've been watching you for a while. Everything about you confirmed it — you're the woman who vanished."

She had simply mistaken me for someone else. Fury and humiliation finally churned inside me. My hand came down hard across his face. "You son of a bitch!" Behind me, Willow screamed at the turn of events and didn't hesitate to slap me in return. "What do you think you're doing, Skyler?" She rushed to help Luther up, her face full of pity. Naomi also started hitting me, as if trying to get revenge for her beloved daddy. I looked at Luther again. That same mocking smile still lingered at the corner of his lips. For a fleeting moment, I realized Willow might not have been so different from me.

“Oh my God, Leah! Where have you been? How come you didn’t know that Alex and Sky had a big fight last year?” “Really?” I asked. I didn’t even know who Alex was, and I didn't care. “Yes. They were good friends before Quinn and Finn transferred here. But Sky stole his girlfriend. And last year, Alex failed his exam and is now our junior,” Flora said. “Stole?”

“Hell, Trak … the entire point of Feral Passions is for us to find mates. I think we’ve found ours as well.” Trak leaned back in his chair and stared at the two men. “You, too? Anne’s sister and Steph?” “Yep.” Wils grinned at Ronan. “We’re a team. Turns out Steph and Christa are, too, and they both like both of us. Face it, Trak. It just doesn’t get any better.”

Bianca was sold to a mafia lord at a very young age and all she could think about was getting revenge. Her plan was going well until the mafia lord's son, Nico, came into the picture. Nico was handsome and cold, brutal but calm. However, when he met Bianca, she brought out his troubled side. He didn't want her. She didn't care. In fact, she hated him. She felt he was emotionless and he felt she was too tough. Both were intrigued. ~♡~ "The only thing stopping me from taking you right here on this table, is that you belong to my father." His voice was tensed and I didn't need to see his face to know how he felt. "My father's whore." He added. I swallowed, hurt by his words. "You

The blonde man took the keyboard and pressed a line of code. Like just looking for information about playing cards, he is looking for information about crossbows. The crossbow shows more information than playing cards. He stared at the information on the computer screen, basically what the international masters got in the competition, and only one of them was the brightest. That's a code name, Bobcat -- The second killer in the International Top 10 Killers list, his weapon is a crossbow. Information on Bobcat is clear, however, that he is African, nearly forty years old, and that in the last two years there have been signs of withdrawal, often in the public media, on the way to bleaching.

“Not constellations of teenage girls, Ms. Cruz. Men who keep their hands in their pockets like they’re used to having something else there.” I stare. He swipes. Another clip. I'm going into a radio station, sunglasses on, hood up. Same men on the corner, smoking, not smoking, watching. My skin crawls. “You’re making this up,” I say. He scrolls back and freezes on a close‑up. It’s enough resolution to see the tattoo peeking over one man’s collar. A sigil I don’t recognize. But he does. “This one’s with the people who killed my mother,” Kael says. “They don’t watch for fun.”