Mort Novel Novels & Stories

"It is, but Diane and Sierra were there to justify." "Oh... That's why. What degree?" "It's premeditated, so it's first-degree." "For how many years will she live behind those bars?" "Lifetime, as what Trevor's parents covet, besides it's the most serious homicide among the others." "How's your friend's mom?" "The heart transplant was successful, but she had pneumonia after the incident." "What stage?" "First stage, congestion." "Oh..." "Her heart almost stopped processing because of the low temperature." "Fortunately it didn't."

Liam walked in silence all the way to Chloe's car and stood at the door averting his eyes. "Well?" She said after five minutes of silence and eye aversion. "Uh…The case is closed…Well, I still have a lot of paperwork to file, but…It was found to be homicidal murder with the deceased Veronica Moulton as the perpetrator, and her death was deemed a suicide." "Oh." She looked at him with no expression. She was relieved to be finished with all of this nonsense and had decided when she was working on the crossword puzzle to forget about Liam and work on piecing her shattered life back together.

She’s not a mommy’s girl nor a daddy’s girl. Askar Is a 17 year old who is Hindu and Immortal. Who cannot be destroyed. His Ancestors' religion is Hindu, which haunts him. He doesn’t quite fit well in his family. It all changes when he gets turned immortal by his human mom who births him.. His life flashes before his eyes seeing his mom die while birthing him will hunt him for all the years he shall live. Sooner than later he is a vampire trying to fit in with the humans. He isn’t like any other vampire, he doesn’t thrust for human blood. He is more disgusted with it, that each time his dad brought home some human for him to try, he would instantly puke it out. But what he really craves is a

Donovan saw the police officers at the door, and his expression changed. He immediately put on an ingratiating yet awkward smile. "Officers, this is a misunderstanding. It's all a misunderstanding!" He pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket and tried to offer them. The officer waved him off.

His hair sticking out at odd angles from the towel he’d rubbed over it. Was it normal to have violent urges or desires from nowhere about another? Especially a mortal? He was starting to have them frequently about Tamara. He’d stopped at the corner only because he felt rooted to the spot looking at her. She’d been leaning over putting on the shoes she had for her dress. His gaze had moved down her shapely legs, the smooth exposed skin and then up. She’d be so easy to take a hold of, and wasn’t like she was wearing much anyways. Did she put anything on under the dress once he’d left her? He just stared down at her now as she fixed his shirt. Her scent rushing up his nose and he did glance at

Mortis barked, slamming Marlo against the wall, hard enough to shake the paintings hanging there. Marlo struggled for a second, his chest heaving, teeth gritted—but Mortis held firm. "You think this helps?!" Mortis snapped. His voice was usually calm. Hearing him like this—furious and commanding—made the whole room go still. "You think screaming at an unconscious man is going to fix anything?!" Marlo stopped struggling. His hands fell limply to his sides. "You’re wrong, Marlo," Mortis said, his voice lowering but losing none of its intensity. "You're the only damn reason we’re still alive right now."

He brings it inside and we devour the mashed potatoes, chicken, and broccoli. "Oh, wow." Damon closes his eyes in pleasure. "I forgot how good broccoli is. I mean, I know it sounds crazy. Who likes broccoli, right? But when you haven't had anything to eat in five years you just--" There's a bump outside of the shed, and I shush him. Immediately, his demeanor changes. His eyes widening, he stands. "What?" he whispers. "I heard something," I whisper back, pointing at the wall. Just then, we see a figure go by the window. My chest tightens. It's one of the men we saw earlier--one of the two men who are likely Silver Hunters.

Is she trying to say that Mort is a Netherlord? No, he’s not. He is only a Fae, a powerful one, yes. But that’s all he is, right? Right?

The target's daily routine continued for three days, so for the next four days, Azrael will continue the assassination of his target. The day has come when Azrael will carry out his mission. Azrael had already prepared his guns and knife. Azrael placed the Coharie Arms MP-10 Using a duffle bag, and his pistols were in his pistol holster. He has already left his condo unit. He left all his feelings as he left his home. He knew this mission would not be easy so he needed to be more self-confident. He drove in his black Camaro.

I hiss. Apparently, you can't trust the word of someone you met in an underground werewolf bar. The entrance to Dyad Marketplace should be here, right past the— Something glimmers in the bricks on the other side of the fountain. Something bright and shiny. Striding across the courtyard, I approach the bit of metal stuck in the wall. A grin breaks across my face. "Perfect." Placing my fingers on the thin strip of metal—something that would appear completely innocuous and meaningless to any basic person walking by—I speak the incantation. "Aperta obidier."