Local 58 Analog Horror

He had seen her glancing back. It wouldn't do to scare her this early on. He turned right as she crossed the street. Cole Baxter had never followed a woman before, especially a human. He'd never had the need, females usually came to him. As a Beta in the local pack he could find a woman whenever he felt the need, and he usually felt the need quite often. But if he knew his wolf, that was going to change. He could feel his wolf in his mind pacing, wanting to follow his mate closely in case any other males got too close. Cole had to remind him that they couldn't just jump her on the street. His wolf would have to learn patience. He'd been waiting for her for close to 200 years, no reason to over react now. He caught sight of her from two blocks down and continued to follow until she turned into the front door of a medical clinic. He stood outside the door and glanced inside. He couldn't see her so he waited around the corner. After what seemed like an eternity, she came walking out with a male who stared straight at him with bright blue eyes. Cole realized immediately this wasn't a human, he was a Were, one of his kind. The male was holding his mate by the waist, and Cole automatically growled, ready to tear the wolf's throat out to get him away from her. Wait, his mate? Maybe he was too late. Maybe she was already mated. His heart was pounding as he watched them walking down the street. He couldn't believe he had waited this long to find his mate only to lose her to another.

Fernando Rocha finalmente aceitou meu pedido de casamento. Ele fez questão de me lembrar para me vestir bem, dizendo que ele havia preparado uma surpresa especial para mim. Mas, quando cheguei deslumbrante ao local da cerimônia, não havia noivo no altar. Fernando virou-se para a minha meia-irmã, que estava ao lado dele, e sorriu: — Você sempre disse que casamentos são chatos e cheios de formalidades. Hoje, vou te mostrar como é um casamento divertido. O que acha? O mestre de cerimônias então anunciou, em voz alta: — O casamento está suspenso! O meu amigo de infância puxou o balão de água que já estava estrategicamente preparado acima da minha cabeça, estourando-o e me molhando da cabeça aos pés. Fernando arqueou as sobrancelhas, com um sorriso provocador, e disse: — Nilda, era só uma brincadeira. Você não achou mesmo que eu ia me casar com você, achou? Aquele casamento não passava de uma farsa, uma encenação planejada para animar a minha meia-irmã, que estava lutando contra uma depressão. Ao me ver em silêncio, Fernando continuou com o mesmo tom zombeteiro: — Se você está com tanta pressa para casar, escolha qualquer um dos convidados aqui e case com ele! Mas, quando eu realmente entrei de braços dados com um noivo para celebrar a cerimônia, eles ficaram atordoados.

Manhattan was doing that thing again twinkling like it had all the answers, when really it just had expensive lighting. Alexander Knight leaned against the glass wall of his penthouse, seventy-five floors up, watching the city hum below him. Bourbon in one hand (mostly untouched), phone in the other. The merger docs stared back at him from the screen, but the part that actually kept him up at night wasn’t the billions on the line. It was the fine print from the Japanese investors: “Family stability preferred.” Translation: get a wife, look settled, or watch the whole deal slip away. He exhaled, fogging the window for a second before it cleared. His assistant had already sent over a neat little list of “suitable” women—discreet, polished, zero drama. Women who understood arrangements. He hadn’t even opened the attachments. Because something about the whole thing felt… hollow. His gaze drifted down, past the grid of lights, to the tiny café on the corner. Golden glow spilling onto the sidewalk, handwritten sign in the window: Local Artist Pop-Up – One Night Only. A woman stood in front of a canvas, head tilted, paint-smudged shirt slipping off one shoulder. She was talking to someone out of view, laughing softly, then stepped back to study her work like it had personally offended her. She glanced up—straight toward his building, straight at him somehow, even though there was no way she could see him up here. But for a split second, their eyes locked across the impossible distance. But right then, with the whole damn city glittering between them, he had this ridiculous, unshakable thought: She’s the one I’m going to ask. And hell help them both when she says yes.

Cinco años después de mi muerte, mi esposa, la médica Elba Latapí, quiso volver a endilgarme la culpa de un caso de negligencia médica para encubrir a su primer amor. Con un documento falsificado en la mano, se plantó en mi antiguo departamento, pero solo encontró el lugar cubierto de polvo. Entró en pánico y bajó corriendo a preguntarle a Julio Melgar, el dueño de la tienda de abajo, por mi paradero. Pero él le respondió: —¿Antonio Alcayaga? Murió hace cinco años. La familia de la víctima de aquel caso de negligencia médica lo acorraló ahí y le dio más de diez puñaladas. Elba no le creyó. Estaba convencida de que yo había sobornado al dueño del local y de que él estaba mintiendo para cubrirme. Rodó los ojos, curvó los labios con desprecio y resopló: —¿Así que ahora, solo porque lo suspendieron por dos años, me sale con este teatrito? Dile que, si no aparece en tres días, dejaré de pagar el tratamiento contra el cáncer de su hermana. Después de soltar esas palabras, se fue entre maldiciones y azotó la puerta al salir. El dueño la vio alejarse, negó con la cabeza y dejó escapar un suspiro. —¿Qué hermana? Ella ya murió hace muchísimo tiempo… porque no tenían dinero para costear el tratamiento.

*Hollis Bogard isn’t known for her commitment. In fact, she’s content leading a single, flirtatious life. That might change after meeting Whitney York, a free spirited artist thirsting for adventure.Having been cursed out, chased, and scorned by every broken hearted woman twenty eight year old heroin addict Hollis Bogard has slept around with, she’s not fazed at all by any of it. Always preferring to look for the next best set of kissable lips. Life as an emotionally unavailable bachelorette has served her well, and after all...everyone was warned before anything happened. Feelings were a big no. Hollis had seen what love did to her parents, and wanted nothing to do with the white picket-fenced lie. So long as her bed was warm when she needed it to be, that’s what mattered.Californian Whitney York is ready for a new start. While spontaneity wasn’t a strong suit of her’s, packing up everything she owned into her little black 2008 Toyota Prius and driving cross country to Auburn, Maine was the best idea she’d had all year. No more nagging mother, to hell with her father always comparing Whitney to her successful sister, Theresa. The one with the prestigious acting career, doting husband, and two all American poster children. She wanted to be free to figure out her own destiny. When elusive Hollis bumps into electrifying Whitney at a local bar on the outskirts of town, sparks fly between the unlikely pair.Disclaimer: Strong sexual content, graphic sex scenes, drug usage. 18+, please. This novel won’t be for you if you’re not comfortable with any of the above topics.2019 All Rights Reserved (you know how it goes) Please don’t attempt to steal any part of my work.

“I Thalia Rose Laurel reject you, Alpha of Flame Valley Pack Knox Winslow.” I cry out, breaking the bond that never should have been. Ryan's eyes flash with horror, his gaze flickering between Knox and I. “Thalia no.” “Yes.” I blink through my tears. “Let me do what he didn't have the guts to do five years ago, what I should have done to us the moment he slammed my head into a wall while I was grieving my daughter!” “I'm sorry, Thalia.” Knox grabs my hand, but I can't stand to be touched by him. “Don't do this to us, to our-” “Let me end this Knox.” I choke out and it's the saddest plea I've ever uttered. “I started this obsessive diminishhing game between us so it's right I be the one to end it. Accept my rejection.” His head shakes, watching me with teary eyes. “I love you.” Knox won't let me go, but I'm ready to let him go, to let us go and so I do the one thing I can.... .………….. Thalia and Knox have had a rocky start to their relationship, and with Knox bullying wolfless Thalia when he knew she was his mate under the guise of oblivion. Knox falls for Thalia and she him but both know she doesn't meet the standard of what he wants in a mate and Luna, the two try to make their relationship work but Knox falls prey to his previous playboy lifestyle multiple times, hurting Thalia and ruining the little that's left of their relationship. Thalia's need to appear strong, and worthy of Flame Valley lands her in trouble, birthing the core reason for the major drift I'n their relationship. Their love is strong but can it overcome the deceptions and conspiracies that surround Them?

Two souls, forged in suffering, would collide in a dance of darkness and desire, testing the limits of love and redemption. Their paths meet when Asher's sister becomes the target of a predator, and Kaidën sees an opportunity for justice. As they navigate their dark worlds, they must confront the demons that haunt them. Will Asher's desire for protection and Kaidën's quest for vengeance spark a twisted romance, or will their shattered reflections destroy them? *** “You killed my mother.” Asher's voice trembled with fury. Kaidën's smile was cold, almost mirthful. “Who gave your sister to her husband who sold her to pay off his debts.” “I watched you murder her in cold blood!” Asher’s fists clenched around the gun he held pointed at the killer, memories of that night flooding back. Kaidën leaned closer, a sinister smile creeping onto his face. "I remember begging you to look away. But you didn’t. Did you enjoy it, Asher? Watching the woman who shattered your world writhe in agony? Or would you prefer to keep that little secret buried deep? Ah, but don’t answer that. Come, help me gather the pieces of your father's remains. It’s time to tidy up this little mess." Asher’s eyes widened in horror, realization crashing over him like a wave. All this time, he had been unaware that he was not only a witness to his father’s murder, but had watched it unfold until the very end, just like he had done that night when he watched his mother’s murder. Nodding, he picked up the severed hand of his father—the same hand that had beaten and broken him until his skin grew numb to pain. ‘Oh, sweet Emily, if only you could see our father now. How the mighty have fallen.’

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.

On Independence Day, I was on my way to my boyfriend's house when a car slammed into me. The stretch of road was deserted. The collision jammed my door shut, and the acrid smell of gasoline filled the air. My car was about to explode. I scrambled for the emergency hammer, only to find it had been swapped out for a pink toy mallet. Panic rising in my chest, I dialed my boyfriend's number. To my horror, his ringtone sounded from the very car that had crashed into me. He stepped out, arm wrapped around his childhood sweetheart. She put on a pitiful face, tears in her eyes. "Oh no, I'm so clumsy. It's my first time driving, and I hit someone." When my boyfriend realized the victim was me, he didn't hesitate to console her. "Don't worry. She must have collided with you on purpose." I pounded on the window, desperate. "Nick! The emergency hammer's been switched out. Help me get out of here!" His childhood sweetheart lit up with a mischievous smile. "Katie, I swapped it! Isn't the pink hammer super cute?" Disgust flickered across Nick's face. "It's just a little crash. Get out on your own." By now, thick smoke was pouring into the car, and the heat was searing my lungs. I begged him to save me. But the girl only giggled, covering her nose in mock annoyance. "Katie, why are you cooking in there? The smoke is awful." Then she patted her stomach. "Oops, my tummy is rumbling. Nick, let's go home and eat." He tightened his hold around her and turned to leave. "Enough already. Stop pretending. My parents are waiting for us at home." Just as suffocation closed in on me, I slammed my hand against the car's emergency distress button.

Saira was once a cheerful girl, but her life drastically changed after the devastating loss of her father. Her high school years were filled with torment, as she was relentlessly bullied by a cruel classmate who made her life miserable. When she finally graduated, she felt relief, believing that chapter of her life was over. However, after graduation, she faced another struggle, landing a terrible job where her life only seemed to get harder. Her world turned upside down again when her mother announced her marriage to a new husband and introduced her to their new family. To Saira’s horror, her new stepbrother was none other than her former high school bully—the very person she thought she’d never have to see again. Shocked and heartbroken, she dreaded what was to come. Things got even worse when she learned she would be working as his secretary. Despite her fears of facing torment once more, Saira was surprised by her stepbrother’s behavior. He had completely changed. Instead of bullying her, he was now protecting her—saving her from workplace issues, standing up for her, and being supportive in ways she never imagined. The boy who once hurt her deeply had transformed into a man who treated her with care and respect. Saira’s heart began to waver. The crush she once had on him returned, and she couldn’t deny that his changes captivated her. But forgiving him wasn’t easy. The scars of the past still lingered. Conflicted, Saira confronted him, demanding answers, accusing him of playing tricks on her. In response, he begged for her forgiveness, admitting his regret and pleading for a chance to make things right. Saira must decide whether she can trust him again—or whether the pain of the past is too much to overcome.