Mare Barrow Novels & Stories

“Sure. There’s bound to be something to satiate our appetite. What about…kebabs? I haven’t had it in ages.” When the two were returning to the Everon estate, their path was blocked by the giant green bird. It transformed back to reveal an annoyed Amaika. Marvis frowned right away and tried to run before he was caught in two seconds by Amaika who dragged him back by the scruff of his neck. “You thought you could run from me forever?” “I’m already a Baron! You can’t keep doing this to me forever.”

"Just stay close to me and remember not to draw attention to yourself. It's best not to stand out." Vivienne nodded, a touch of nervousness glimmering in her brown eyes. "Understood," she replied, her voice steady despite the jittery feeling in her stomach. Marcus looked her over again and then, letting out a rough sigh, he pushed open the entrance door. Immediately, the scent of barbecue and beer wafted through the opening, mingling with the rush of raucous laughter and golden light shining from an impressively tacky yet charming centre light fixture that was shaped like a rugby ball. To Vivienne’s surprise, the bar's cozy interior was a stark contrast to its dreary outside walls. There wer

In the next split second, Erin smiled a sweet smile when her nethermen managed to catch the same smile from her son who was sitting at the same table with her. "All right. Let's eat now! The soup is almost cold." exclaimed Erin as she placed the spoon in Gabe's bowl. "Do not forget to pray." She continued. *** As Gabe said earlier, Ash and Archie went to Mitchell Hills. A classic style mansion that from today has been occupied by its new owner, the Argent family. Ash and Archie scanned all parts of the mansion from a distance. Not too far, but close enough from their reach. Archie's sense of smell sniffed out a distinctive scent that no other werewolves, apart from Alpha, could pick up.

At the entrance of the Starry Building, a dark red sports car was parked conspicuously. Bard leaned casually against the door, attracting plenty of attention, though he couldn't care less. His lips curled into a cocky smirk as he stared intently toward the main entrance. When Marah walked out and spotted Bard standing there, she felt a pang of surprise, quickly replaced by annoyance.

Luckily there was never a shortage of Americans and wealthy Europeans passing by the small town of Malborough as it was near the ports of Liverpool. Coming to a halt, the man smiled. Laughing nervously... "Uh, you see sir...uhm...I'm not quite...uhm certain if you r-read our...uhm social code of eh code of conduct...basically we do not allow niggers." Austin smiled. "Is that so? I will be sure to inform Harold that he needs to add a few changes to his establishment. I reckon as his lawyer, I should be the one filing such adjustments." "...oh...uhm...my apologies..."

“Garrick.” ⸻ Martha looked toward the place he’d stood. “Hmm.” Mason frowned. “Hmm?” “I don’t care for him.” ⸻ Rowan made a sound. Mason ignored it. “Martha, he may literally be the Hollow.” “Then I care for him even less.” ⸻ Claire snorted. Even now. Mason briefly closed his eyes. Wolf Ridge. ⸻ Bramble approached Martha. She crouched. “You all right?”

She held on to her mother for dear life, so engrossed in the horrible unfolding of her worst nightmare that she did not notice unfamiliar voices amongst the crowd-male baritones that were certainly not those of her relatives. One voice was most authoritative of them all. Her mother suddenly trembled as she held her, muttering unintelligible words that she understood only in the end because of the sheer power in the title. “The Baron. The Baron’s here. Ah, la vache! He’s really here!” her mother cried in almost a whisper. The Baron? Adalene turned and saw enormous horses gathering on the edge of the crowd, bigger than any horse she had ever seen in the fields, with equally daunting men astrid

Strategy. They entered the war room, a long stone chamber carved deep into the mountain’s spine. The air inside was more incredible, dry stone replacing the forest’s damp breath. Maps covered the central table, pinned down by blades and iron markers. Lines had been drawn and redrawn until the ink looked like scars. Mara Vale stood at one end, already arguing quietly with two senior enforcers. “…not at the eastern ridge,” one of them said. “That’s where he expects pressure.”

Maria strolled into the passageway, then into the room he had indicated. "Wow," there was no holding back her exclamation as she walked into the fancy room whose walls glistened with brown oil paint and a round ceiling so white she thought she walked into heaven, this was probably what the inside of barque would look like if she'd ever entered ones. It was merely a room as Jackson described but to Maria, it was next to a palace or equivalent. A silver center bowl chandelier hung above her, complimented by candelabra of the same color and designs.

We walk along the length of the barrier, looking for weak spots. Out of nowhere, Mara gasps and stops. She turns to the barrier. It looks pretty solid to me, but the warriors probably reinforced it already. She pushes against the heavy slab of steal, as if testing its strength. Predictably, it doesn't budge. The she stands back, and stretch her arms out, palms pointing to the ground. “He crossed here.” “How do you know?” I ask and kneel next to her, looking for an entrance. A crack in the barrier or a freshly dug hole.