Miles Morales Novel Novels & Stories

I confused a House Representative with a call boy. Maybe these are sins, maybe they are mistakes. Either way, I should have been more thoughtful and more careful. Gathering the remaining shreds of my dignity, I pull myself upright, back straight, and ask, “What more do you want of me?” Miles grin adds teeth. “When you put it like that…” A fire sparks in his eyes that sends shivers down my spine. Just like that, I am transported to a soft mattress. Wrapped in tangled sheets, I clawed at the pillow as Miles pressed inside of me.

Miles nodded. “Yes. Outside here, the stories are completely different. I don’t see violence or abuse. I don’t see pack members mistreated or starving on the streets. I can’t help but wonder if it’s all been lies.” Miles was honest and upfront; his head was a mess from what he'd been told to what he now sees.

“I will be calling her now.” Miles paused in surprise, unable to respond. Aiden stepped out again. “Mom, just let me--” “Your mother, Miles!” she shouted again, and finally, Aiden gave up. Miles slowly found his feet, beaten and bloodied and wobbly on his knees. He took the phone, typed in his mother’s number, and handed it back. Ms. Morales immediately held it to her ear, arms crossed. They waited in severed silence for a long time, listening to the muffled ring of Ms. Morales cellphone. Miles’s mother answered, and for just a minute, Ms. Morales stepped out of the room.

My voice is dry. “Agent Morales,” he repeats, his tone icy. “Where is he?” “I…” I hesitate. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He nods. “Right.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, clear plastic bag. Inside is a phone—a burnt phone. He places it on the table, and the moment I recognize it, I freeze. It’s Morales’s phone. ##########

She settled into the comfortable couch in the apartment, feeling the soft cushions envelop her. As she closed her eyes, Emma's mind began to wander. She thought about her sister, Sarah, and the memories they had shared. She wondered if she'd ever see her sister again. The thought brought a lump to her throat, but she pushed it down, focusing on her breathing. For hours, Emma slept fitfully, her dreams filled with images of the facility and the mysterious figure. But as the sun began to rise, she finally felt rested and more in control. As she got up and stretched, Emma noticed a small note on the coffee table. It was from Mike, the driver. "Hey Emma, I stocked up on some food and water. Help

Cold sweat covered Peter’s forehead as he hastily explained, “You’ve misunderstood me, Mr. Morales. I don’t mean that… I wonder how Annabelle offended you, sir. Nevertheless, I shall apologize to you on behalf of her. Mr. Morales, will you please let this matter pass for my sake?” As he was speaking, Peter bent over and lowered himself. He walked over and poured a glass of whiskey for Mr. Morales. Moreover, he even raised his glass and apologized to Miles. Alas, Miles could not be bothered to pay attention to him. He did not even budge at all while his neck twitched once, and he cracked into a smile that could send a shiver down one’s spine. Miles said, “So, in that case, are you disrespecti

Mia took a slow drag of the half-burnt cigarette, laughing hysterically as she saw the pictures of Antonio with her__ Layla. Her hands tightened in fury and the pictures crumpled under her palms. She knew exactly why he sent this. This was a reminder. A brutal, calculated reminder of her debt to the Moranos. Mia’s Past

The cause of Allan Alexander Morales' death was an accident. Elice returned to the article she had opened. She read it carefully and went to the folder where the article was located. Inside were several photographs. "Oh my God." Elice quickly covered her mouth. The photos of the accident made her feel sick. From the condition of the badly damaged car that had crashed into a utility pole, to the blood splattered on the road, to the deceased victim who was no longer alive. Sitting with a broken face while his back was up. Like someone hit by a hard object.

I was now convinced that something was bothering him but if there was anyone who should be bothered right now then it should be me because he was the one who left my business and took a full day staring at the skyline while I was killing myself over some stupid baking tutorial videos I cleared my throat loudly. “So I read online that there’s a book titled The Chicago curses. The synopsis says the book has details on the curses that happened in this city from centuries ago.” Miles sighed. “If we’re lucky, we can find something about body swaps and maybe a solution on how to reverse it,” I replied. Miles turned to me with a hard expression. “And you couldn’t find any copy of the book online?”

“Yes.” “And she landed a high-level internship at New York Times straight out of school.” Miles nodded. “Which doesn’t happen..Not without connections.” “Who were they?” “That’s the thing,” he said. “We can’t find any trace of contact with anyone suspicious.” I looked back down at the page. Mandy Moore. Twenty-six. Sharp eyes in every photo. The kind of face that noticed exits before décor. “What else?” I asked. “She specialized in… patterns,” Miles said carefully. “Corporate scandals…..Missing persons…..Unsolved fires and mysterious murders”