Mark Hansen Black Dahlia Novels & Stories

His once red side-whiskers were turning gray. “Let me help you,” Agnes volunteered, waving at the sea. She thought, “Anyway, I can’t see anything. It is Nocté who has a hawk-like vision. She can see everything, especially at night.” But aloud the maid begged, “I hope our little mermaid won’t get sick” pulling another stool up to Bastian. The two of them will manage everything more quickly. “Maybe the mistress is also building up an appetite for dinner.”

I called out, finally having some of my strength back. "Those flowers…" she turned to face me, her jaw clenched. "Black dahlia and poppy…they are the harbinger of evil; a symbol of death. And they were cursed. How did you get your hands on them?" "I-I…" I pressed my hands to my throat, feeling like I hadn't had water in ages. Sarah got up from her side and handed me a glass of water, which I took gratefully and drank it all in one go like I had been parched for centuries.

Dahlia laughed and I was happy I was able to make her do so after she just finished crying. “What does he have on you?” She sucked on her teeth, every kind of humor leaving her as she said, “He has a video.” I arched an eyebrow. A video? There was only one kind of video he could have that could serve as blackmail material, especially on Dahlia who was one of the kindest people on earth. “What kind of video does he have, Dahlia?” The question came out slow and deliberate. I already knew the answer to it but I wanted to hear it from her.

"Please, let me assist you. What are you looking for?" "A dress for a gala," Dahlia said, forcing a polite tone. The manager whisked her away, pulling several dresses and directing her to the changing room. A girl brought Hunter a coffee while he waited. Dahlia stepped out in a red dress, and Hunter nearly choked on his drink. "Damn," he muttered under his breath. "It’s nice," she said, glancing at herself in the mirror. "Try more," Hunter insisted. She did, eventually emerging in a black dress that made Hunter cough to hide his reaction. "Yeah. That’s the one," he said.

I didn’t even hear her approach. Black hair frames her heart-shaped face, striking an alluring contrast against her pale skin in the moonlight. “Don’t stop on my account. I was enjoying the show,” she says with a cocky smile. “I’m Darius Black, Alpha of the Bloodmoon pack,” I reply, not catching my mistake fast enough. “You don’t smell like an alpha of anything, Darius,” she quips. “You smell like a wet dog too far from the border. Do you know what we do to stray dogs?”

Brian hastened to reassure the girl even as he nudged Maeve from his lap and stood up. Lea Diane, smiling with relief, and led the way to the room. She opened the door then stood to one side to allow Brian and Maeve to enter before her. She smiled at Maeve's gasp of surprise. The Dahlia Room was done in tasteful shades of green and red, suggestions of the flower in question here and there with the use of shadows and empty space. Great big vases stood on two tables, each holding three dozen of varying types of Dahlias and adding a subtle perfume to the air. There was a large four poster bed in the center of the back wall and some pieces of equipment Maeve didn't recognize along with a couple

She huffed and I laughed. I made my way down to the 1st floor to meet dahlia, she stood tapping her foot at the front door as I descended the staircase. Dahlia was a cute girl. Emerald green eyes, her thick black locks were cut into a short wavy bob and her frame was petite yet powerful. Her olive skin matched my own. At first glance she could be mistaken for a child but her aura quickly told of her powerful (and hot headed) nature. She was 1 year my senior and wouldn’t let me forget it for a minute.

Dahlia's POV When I enter the dining room he is already in the most honorable seat. In front of him, the fine silvers line neatly, and he sits there with his elbow on the arm of the chair, two fingers supporting his temple. He is reading a file in his hand. Elegant. That must be the first word that pops into anyone's head when they see this man. I'm in a strapless black dress, his favorite style. On my wrist, I warp a strap cut out of the 2.5 million dollar piece to cover the bruise.

Her palms, fingers were sweaty and trembling, much like her voice. That was when it dawned on me. It hit me like a bag of fucking bricks. I pulled my hands away, standing up so fast my chair scraped loudly against the floor. "What is this? What's going on?" "You need to seduce them if you have to," Dylan said urgently. "Keep the Black Rose on your side for as long as you can, because I can't do what Elijah is asking me to do anymore. And I can't protect you anymore." "Protect me from what?" My voice was rising, panic setting in. I watched my friend, watched as her frail body shook with sobs that didn't even leave her properly, watched as her brown eyes darkened with desperation as she reache

I snap my head to the side and see her, Dahlia. She is here; she isn’t alone. “Dahlia!” I mutter, but she isn’t looking at me. The men move to stand on either side of her. Goddess, she is more beautiful than I remember her to be. She is stood not even ten feet away. Her long brown hair is in a ponytail. She is wearing all black leather and the men beside her are all huge, wearing the same thing. Where the hell has she been?