Midnight Crossing Book Novels & Stories

I’ll shatter it before dawn, and I’ll make her thank me for it. ═══════⊹⊱♚⊰⊹═══════ What Awaits Author’s Note: You’ve met the firebrand. You’ve seen the king fracture. Now—watch the tower burn. Midnight Crown is a dark romance built on crime, obsession, betrayal, and slow-burn war between two people who should have destroyed each other—but didn’t. Because control is never clean, and neither is love. You’ll drown in silence and secrets as the story unfolds through four arcs:

With black cards and serpent seals and a single line that says everything he won’t say out loud. I slip the card into my purse, slide the note back into the envelope. The elevator dings. Penthouse. No smirk. No satisfaction. Just silence—and the weight of understanding. Because Nathan Cross didn’t give me power to be kind. He gave it to see what I’d do with it. And now? Now I know exactly how to burn him without ever striking a match. He’s not pulling me back. He’s daring me to run. And I’m not sure which of us will burn first.

And he had a long nose that looked like a cursive L – L. “Sal Maan Roos Dee. He is a big writer. One of the biggest of all times. This man, see,” revealed my brother, showing the back cover of the book he had in his hands. The passport size photograph of the man on the back cover was exactly like the man I saw in my visions. I AM NOT KIDDING! I mean it! The front cover read: “An Extraordinary Novel” – The New York Review of Books ________________________________________________ MIDNIGHT’S CHILDREN

Something about a bridge being nearby is the only thing I can remember. Suddenly, the world swirls and I’m standing on that bridge with Kendric. “I fell off the cliff and then ended up here. This was our third life, for sure.” Kendric looks over at me with a confused expression. “Are you seeing this too?” A ticking clock sounds from somewhere nearby and I look around to see where it’s coming from. “Do you hear that?” A voice comes out of nowhere from somewhere above us. “Midnight is coming. Run while you can.”

I flow from this book you gave in the last of the under fifteen minutes. Me over my head, like a shocked reader of those backward zeroes printed in the purchase receipt: in love with the lola magic over the bridge I couldn’t pull out, play nor call a trick to make some obese scene consume a page, swallow a space- giving mystery before you could ever figure it out. Hardly a night passes I drown in the disobedient waters of now, for I punctuate once, twice

As she approached, he helped her into the saddle, then climbed onto his own. The moment their mounts galloped beyond the sanctuary gates, the fog seemed to recoil. But the woods beyond remained treacherous. As they rode, Catherine whispered enchantments to cloak their presence, while Father Emmanuel—now riding with them—recited protective scriptures beneath his breath. They were not simply traveling through land anymore. They were crossing into the spiritual battlefield. They reached the river crossing by dawn. The old bridge had collapsed under mysterious circumstances, as if clawed by something massive. Catherine knelt by the splintered wood. “This wasn’t rot. Look at the burn marks.”

Winter is definitely approaching quickly. I thought it was going to be difficult to light the fireplace but the moment I held the lighter close to the wood it lit up. I sat down on the floor so that I could be close to the fire. I glanced at the clock, 6:15pm. I leaned over and grabbed the first book from the couch. The lightening thief. Maybe I could read one chapter and go and try to sleep. It was already 9 pm, and I was really tired, but the book was so interesting, demigods, minotaurs, camp half blood ...

my oldest companion asked. “I will go to my daughter.” “You risk being trapped.” “I have been trapped before.” I waited for the seam to thin again. When it did, I stepped through fully. The crossing tore at me — not because I lacked power, but because the barrier resisted permanence. It was not meant for our kind to remain long. But I was not most of our kind. I emerged in the shadows beyond the pine break, the scent of salt and stone heavy in the air. Emberhold.

He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding and sat back. “Get ready. We’re leaving now.” He stood abruptly and began pulling on his travel clothes. Outside the tent, it was still dark. The only light came from a sliver of the moon hanging low in the dawn sky, casting long, skeletal shadows across the camp. “Are you sure we should leave yet?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly. “Yes. We have to cross the Fire Crossroad before night falls. Remember the Land of the Lone Wolves I told you about? We can’t be caught there in the dark.”

The moment she crosses the threshold and her feet met the cool, welcoming touch of her bedroom floor, she allows herself to sink onto her bed, the cushions yielding to her weight. With a deep sense of purpose, she extends her hand towards the book nestled on her bed, cradling it tenderly. Astrid could scarcely contain her curiosity, her fingers quivering with the exhilaration of the adventure awaiting her. As she opened the book, she was instantly transported into a world as captivating as the printed pages itself, where words spun tales of Supernatural beings beyond her wildest imagination. The book unveiled a hidden realm, one inhabited by nine extraordinary entities, each with its own uni