Midnight Blues Book Novels & Stories

“If there were a book three, the title would be Dusk?” “Midnight is a transition, darkness, silence, the feeling of loneliness and loss. Dawn is hope, and if Dawn is as successful as Midnight, then the third book will be Nightfall, but it’s not exactly the time of day. It’s a locale mentioned in the book.” “Okay. No more spoilers, T.S. Prince.” “You’re not mad?” “About you being the author, and making me look like a fool?” He chuckled. “I wanna bite you right now, but it can wait until I come back from the trip.”

Chapter 7: The Midnight Rain Clara The clock on the mahogany nightstand read 2:14 AM. The storm hadn't stopped. If anything, it had grown more violent, rattling the reinforced glass of the balcony doors until the frames groaned under the pressure. Lightning tore through the sky every few seconds, illuminating my charcoal silk bedroom in flashes of blinding, ghostly white, followed immediately by cracks of thunder that shook the very foundation of the cliffside estate.

But every time I thought about how he died, I was in the middle of darkness, confused. I closed my eyes, I feel the water rushing through my skin and the tingling sensation of coldness. I was about to open my eyes when I heard gunshots in multiple directions. I stay still, I sharpen my senses and wait for what happens next. Many footsteps start to invade my ears, I continue swinging, not minding what will come after. Two people at four o'clock, six heavy footsteps at eleven while three other light footsteps are at two o'clock. The three light footsteps are getting near while the other changes its direction.

I had already checked six of those homes, but none of them had a Pebbles. I could have asked Mary where her son lived, but the woman would be highly suspicious. Nothing got past her. “Harrison, come back to bed.” Jesus fucking Christ! “I'm working on a lawsuit, Blaire. Just go to sleep." I finished my paperwork a few hours before dawn. I travelled to the kitchen for a midnight snack. There I discovered the chocolate beauty I had my way with about a year ago. “Hello, darling." She dropped the carton of milk on the floor. I wondered why she was down here. Sinister didn't allow the staff to eat from his refrigerator. “Stealing Sinister's food I see.”

FEBRUARY, 23, 2018. DARK MOON PACK. (ORLA'S POV) I hissed for the third time in a row, flipping the book I was reading on the bed. It had begun as a mere foreboding, but as time crawled by, I couldn't help but feel that heavy weight on my chest. It was so thick that I felt I could touch it. That feeling. Something was about to happen, yet I couldn't place what it was.

It is January so it is immensely cold in New York with a temperature of 28°F. The waiter approached us handing us the menu. We didn't look at the menu knowing what to order. The waiter came back smiling with how fast we decided what to order. He is probably new because he couldn't recognize us. "Can I know your order now, beautiful?" speaking directly towards me while undressing me with his eyes. Isabel snorted finding this amusing. I sneered at her. "Yes, I wanted pancakes with blueberries and whip cream with bacon strips and to make the eggs scrambled. A hot caramel macchiato with water please."

“No one is sending any one to hell. We are meeting in fifteen. Reach as soon as possible.” I hung up the call. I wished that I knew what this was about but as far as I was about demons they were never going to let you know something until you really were needed to know about it. Finally we reached the bookstore. It was named beautifully. Books and Blues. Well for people who did not know the irony would not understand it but it was a good business and Hannabelle was an astute businesswoman. And I did not know but I was sure that something was up with the coffee of this house which would only mean that she had magicked the place in such a subtle manner that people flocked here for the coffee a

Rosalyn Three Months Later Midnight. The city outside our penthouse apartment slept, but I was wide awake, patting Cian on my chest while watching rain pelts mercilessly hit the glass and purple lightning streaks flash through the dark skies. The soft glow from the nightlight cast shadows on the walls, making the room feel larger than it was, and the cold only made me miss him more.

Revered to underlie beneath, yet to go beyond, when you grasp and they slip more towards the darkness and disappear. However, there are instances, where those refute to profess appeared, when one least expect it to. “Hnnggg.” The groans left from her slightly parted lips express the consciousness that lapse way past before she collapse. The mattress, where her back lies were way more than familiar. The lavender essence, the softness of the sheets and so the light luminosity—dimly lit, but enough to repelled the shadows to fully take over its dominion. It feels like a home. The roof she seek she couldn’t find to where Midnight had brought her. With that said, an avalanche of memories about th

“I’m sure they can’t wait to meet you. You’re going to have a fantastic life in Moon Valley.” “They’ll make me be a whore,” she moans. Jesse can’t help laughing, just a little. “Midnight, I promise, no one will make you be a whore.” She goes silent and Jesse lets her have a moment to think. When she speaks again, Midnight’s voice is softer than before, and laced with fear. “She’s going to take my magic from me,” she whispers. “Who is?” Jesse asks, his shoulders straightening in surprise. “The blonde rat!” Midnight moans, devastated at the idea.