Mjurran Tempest Novels & Stories

he said in a perfectly broken morning voice. "Morning," I replied, placing my hand on his cheek. "I didn't mean to wake you. You looked so peaceful." "I still am," he said, placing his hand on my bare waist. "It's a perfect morning." I looked out the window to see clear blue skies and bright sunlight. But from the crispness of the dewy grass and the slight draft through the wind I could tell it was bitterly cold. My favourite kind of weather. "You have the Luna symbols," he said, running his thumb along my wrist.

Thank you so much for reading The Snow Storm! If you would like to find out more about what happens to Owen and the rest of the Williamson family then check out the sequel, Murder Motel. Here is a sneak peak of the book.. Chapter One September 17, 2007 “Am I speaking to a mister Owen Matthews?” “Um, yeah, that would be me.. Can I help you?” He does not recognize the female voice on the other end of the line but he has to admit, it is a beautiful voice. He would know how to spot a lovely voice, considering her heard random voices all day long.

Then she heard the sound. It was the sound of a winter storm blowing through the forest. As Niamh watched, figures formed from the clouds above. Many Elves, already fighting, stopped in mid-swing to take in the awe-inspiring sight. A sight Niamh had not yet seen, even in her long Elven years. Griffins.

She knew Circe was still there, somewhere inside—but that didn’t make the emptiness disappear. The forest that lined the road to Blue Moon Pack stretched endlessly, towering evergreens swaying under the cool mountain wind. Lydia’s window was half open, letting in the scent of moss, pine, and something else—faint traces of wolf and Lycan mingled in the air, ancient and pulsing with quiet power.

This is the second time you did it. "Hey, who is that guy?" I asked Liam. "Who?" "The guy who's wearing a jersey number 1. The one in our team." He looked at it. Afterwards, he looked at me in disbelief. He also had this shocked expression as if he's so surprised about my question. "You didn't know?" Will I asked him I I did? I glared at him. He slightly laughed at me. "Well man, that's Jairuz Andrei Ramirez. His fans calls him Jairuz, doesn't want to be called Andrei. He's the captain of the team." Oh, I see. I just asked for the name, he talks a lot.

He also has a v-line that runs from his lower stomach all the way to the inside of his pants. Wait, i'm staring at his pants...I divert my attention back to his bright amber eyes, extreme heat coloring my cheeks. "I-" I choke on my words. "You're soaking." I look down at my clothes and indeed they are soaked from the now malicious rain. "Gesibel, get back inside." David scolds his white Pomeranian who is currently try to wiggle between his feet to have access to the outside. He turns his attention back to me as he pushes it

The woman was exceptionally calm under pressure. The third and fourth shots of Timur were nearly flawless. His fourth shot was only a hair away from the very center of the target, giving Mairwen an opening. "The wind caught it," Timur complained as he passed his opponent in the arena. "I am sure it did," the princess sympathized. Over the past hour, the sun had disappeared behind dark clouds, bringing with it a break from the sun, but also a slight southerly breeze. "We may want to hurry." Timur looked at the clouds warily. "I think a storm is brewing."

Who is going to know? KILLER: That’s awesome. Chris is going there next week as well. Going to help out the newbies. Maybe I can go with and see you there. I’m not usually for breaking rules but that rule is ridiculous. No chance Hailstorm wants to join….? HAILSTORM: Mm… lemme think – seeing a bunch of wolves in the icy cold while you two cuddle up with your mates, sorry girls. That’s a no from me KILLER: The boys will be so busy there will be no time to cuddle Hailstorm, so it will just be us

Great yellow-blue threaded eyes of Jormungand alit under the depths. Yola fed him another slice. He gnashed his teeth, and an earthquake hit. “Now!” Jormungand roiled and rose in a lightning split, making to swallow us. “Hurry, bind him!” Jarnja called. I did, weaving blood and ice together to form a net for the serpent god. Jarnja summoned lightning and let it hit the Pole Star. Lokabrenna, the Northern Pole Star, fired like an elven mirror, breaking the foggy dew.

It is hard to imagine that any living being would have survived or that any infrastructure would have withstood the impact. Peter interrupts my gloomy thoughts, “So, what’s your prognosis on our current position, Ingoran?” “The parallel storm will dissipate, then we’ll limp towards Earth and hope our boosters will give us the capacity to bring us down to the surface in one piece.” Ingoran gives a hollow laugh. “Or at least the piece that remains intact.” I search his mind for any glimmer of hope but find none. “I’m really sorry about your companions,” Ashmor says sympathetically.