My Quiet Blacksmith Novels & Stories

Smith, that smug smile of his never wavering. “I want Amber,” Mr. Black said, his tone calm, almost like he was talking about some trivial matter. Mr. Smith froze, his brows furrowing in disbelief. “Amber?” he repeated, his voice shaky now. “What the hell are you talking about? She’s just a girl! You’ll get your money. Leave her out of this.”

I asked him and he smiled. "Kuhan? I don't know what Kuhan is but you were brought here by a lady last night, you were unconscious, she told me you needed somewhere to sleep." The blacksmith replied. "A lady? Do you know her?" I asked and the blacksmith nodded negatively. "I don't, she wore a hood on her head and I couldn't see her, but she told me that you both are friends" The Blacksmith replied. https://writersnaija.com.ng/twist-of-fate-son-of-the-soil-book-2-episode-2/

A smirk crawled unto his features as he stretched out a hand for me and I just stared in awe, his words sinking in. Damon Blackwood, as in Black Empire Blackwood. The self made billionaire, that's impossi- I quickly slid my hand into his, realising I had left him hanging. Bad first impression Jasmine! You idiot!! I mentally scolded myself, I needed this job. Don't fuck it up! Don't fuck it up! I played those words in my head like a song on repeat. 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍 Her skin felt like velvet against mine. I had to resist the urge to take her hands to my lips to kiss them and appreciate her effortless beauty.

I am so worried about how bad these dreams get each and every day. I know something is bothering you and as I always say, take me as your best friend and feel free to tell me anything and everything.’ Mariam, Susan’s mother says sweetly to her, to which she nods her head positively. After a little more conversation with her daughter, Mariam retires to her room to continue her sleep. ~> Introduction to characters. Susan Parrish, female protagonists/ Black’s mate. There’s going to be a lot of her POV’s. Jones Black[Abbadon], male protagonist. There maybe a considerable amount of POV’s in his name.

Apologize to Adam, Caleb, and Quinn, or I'll announce in the newspaper that I'm disowning you! As I looked at the biased old woman, all the last remnants of any warmth in my heart evaporated. I took a step back, pretending to be scared. My voice trembled as I cried out, "Grandma, why? Uncle Adam and Uncle Caleb were the ones fighting, and Quinn even hit me! Why should I be the one to kneel?" "Why?" Grandma sneered. "Because you're an ungrateful wretch! Quinn married a great husband. She's the pride of this family. And you? What are you? Who do you think you are, comparing yourself to them?"

“Every single day. Come back covered in something.” “The garden was interesting,” Jeff said. “It had things in it.” “It had mud in it primarily.” “And other things.” “Mud,” the grandmother said firmly, and Jeff laughed again. Mike said, without looking up from his tea, “There was a broken bicycle back there for about three years that he was convinced he was going to fix.” “I was going to fix it.” “You were nine. You had no tools and no plan.” “I had a vision.” “You had mud on your shoes and a very confident attitude.”

“We’re back,” Sasha called out, returning with everyone else who had met up on the fifth floor after their material hunt. “What happened?” Zen looked like a dried sardine from behind the blacksmith’s counter. They were gone for a while, but it should not be long enough for Zen to be this worn out. What did he do? Funnily enough, the grumpy blacksmith whistled merrily as he stacked crates at the corner of the shop. “Don’t worry about him,” Ben chuckled. “He’s a spring chicken, so he’ll bounce back in no time. More importantly, do you have all the materials?”

Once I was suited up and ready to hit the competition floor, security blocked my path. Alfred was there, looming beside them. His eyes were stormy as he pointed at me, his voice booming, "That's the guy who crashed the event. Kick him out now!" The guard eyed me with a stern look. "Sir, your invitation, please." I raised an eyebrow and replied, "I'm the one running the show here. No invite needed." The words had barely left my lips when Alfred's mocking laughter cut through the air. "This event is the brainchild of Ms. Smith and her husband. Nelson, are you going to stand there and tell me you're Ms. Smith's husband? What's the hold-up? Get this liar out of here!"

Mira got out of the Jeep along with Griffin. “Miss Red, it was good to see you again,” The older man greeted her. To the others, he was just an old man working with the outlaws. To those who knew him, he was a well-known businessman. They called him ‘The Blacksmith’. Nobody knew his real background or real name. He designed, created, and supplied weapons—guns, bow and arrow, swords and anything that made it into a killing tool. He did this for the right price. Nobody did a free job anymore because everything was a business.

"There's some paint damage. The parents insisted it was my fault for parking badly, but the police checked the cameras and confirmed it was their child's fault." He sighed, then reached out to touch my belly. "Be good, my baby girl. Don't turn out like that brat, alright?" Laughing, I batted his hand away and asked, "How do you even know if it's a boy or a girl?" Keith grinned. "I just like girls." Back when I left Horton, I threw myself completely into building the new company to forget the pain of the past. But because I overworked myself, I fainted on the street one day.