Nash Hawthorne Novels & Stories

Daisy said, staring at Seth Nathaniel, who Immediately moved his gaze from the altar. Daisy's action had caused an uproar in the congregation. Gazing at her mom, Wade Roberto could read meaning into the lecherous gaze she had. Walking up to the priest, Wade pleaded with him to skip the part that involved kissing the bride. Moments later the priest made the announcement and urged everyone to stay till the wedding ended properly. As Wade Roberto and Daisy Hunter walked down the altar having fulfilled their Holy matrimony, their gaze fell on the Lecherous gaze of Mrs Angela.

She found herself leaning on her palm as she stared at him, the way he smiled showed off his white teeth, and the way his suit hugged his muscled body made her feel warm in so many places. Crystal flinched when he looked in her direction and the sharpness of his blue eyes made her internally swoon. Cyrus Noah, the nephew of the man she now called her husband. He was someone she had been so attracted to since the first they met at a family function. He was rich, a celebrity figure, a professional swimmer and many more— He was just an all rounder in Hollywood.

Nathan said, resting his forehead against my own “you will forever be my pride and glory, the one thing that I would forever be proud of” I didn’t say anything as I looked at my husband, staring deep into his blue eyes, feeling mesmerized by them. Nathan kissed my forehead, knowing that no words needed to be said before he pulled away to drive again “do you want us to spend the night out? The two of us would be having a lot to deal with when we’re back anyway, might as well find it in ourselves to spend some time alone before we’ve gotten into an unknown war”

Atticus is a ghost, he's not real. The room is almost pitch black save for the light coming from underneath the door. I still have to rely on my sense of touch to find the nearest wall. I don't have time to panic because I'm waving my hands in the air, hoping I don't trip over something. When I touch what feels like the frame of the door, my hands scan anxiously for the knob. Once it's open, I can see a little better through the dim light of the stained glass window. I cautiously peak my head into the hallway and from the looks of it, Atticus isn't here. The entire house is back to being old and abandoned.

The Capital. After shaking off the fatigue of travel, Nathan returned home. But instead of heading to the grand Hill family villa, a place that symbolized the power and wealth of his werewolf pack, he went to the smallest, least notable property he owned—a modest apartment that served as his and Isabella’s marital home.

Her godbrother appeared even more than the smoked bacon did! Nathan felt a sour feeling in his chest after he shut the book. He looked up to see Hilda humming a tune as she fixed the 3D bedroom projector that had previously been sent back after Linux sent it over. Ever since the incident that occurred with Linux, Nathan had sent all his gifts except Garfield back to him.

Nora replied. I leaned back against the seat and turned my head toward the window. The neon lights of Manhattan blurred into streaks of color. My hand dropped to my bag. My fingers brushed against the thick paper envelope holding my tutoring salary. Nathan's words echoed in the quiet space of the car. A dignified rescue. Gareth Hamilton was not just a quiet man who made good coffee. He was a shield. A silent, immovable force that the universe had somehow dropped into the middle of my chaotic, collapsing life.

The room fell into a heavy, expectant silence. All eyes darted between each other, confusion etched into every face, before landing on Zara, who sat stunned, staring up at the man standing before her. Nathaniel Hawke. One of the most powerful private lawyers in New York. Co-partner of the renowned Blackthorne and Hawke law firm, and a three-time award-winning litigator. Even though they were just meeting for the first time, Nathaniel seemed to know exactly whom he had come to represent as he bent down and offered her a hand.

I stopped and read aloud: “Nathaniel Hawthorne was more than just another author who wrote about Salem. He lived in Salem. Most of his stories are set in Salem. Most of the buildings he described in Salem are integral to his stories, and many of them still stand here today. “More importantly, Hawthorne had a direct personal connection to some of the events and characters in his work. His most famous work, for example, The Scarlet Letter, tells the story of a woman, Hester Prynne, who is imprisoned and scorned by her peers for her adulterous behavior. Hawthorne had a more direct connection to these events than one would think. His real grandfather, John Hawthorne, was one of the principal jud

I tried to reassure myself that it might be attributed to me, but deep down, I knew it wasn't. However, I did find solace in the thought that it could be because of Hawthorne's bloodline as it was the purest, I was told. I had heard countless stories from those who had crossed his path. One tale I'd heard was that Hawthorne's wolf form was the largest ever witnessed.