Nathaniel Hawthorne Novels Novels & Stories

‘You must come with me, loving me, to death; or else hate me, and still come with me. The words sent a chill down Roseanne's spine, prompting her to return the book to its place with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "What on earth were you possessed with, Nathan?" She knew that she should not judge him too soon. However, she could not control the urge to. She turned to Wuthering Heights, a book placed on the book shelve over his desk. She flipped through its pages while spotting several highlighted quotes. Each quote held a clue to Nathaniel's inner mind. It was a world she sought to unravel in order to understand him.

The silver thread glimmered like a dying star between my fingers as I pulled the final stitch. I had spent weeks carving a masterpiece out of a mess, breathing life into a gown that was little more than a hand-me-down from Nora, the chief maid. It was a relic of the royal palace, salvaged from the scrap heap of a life I was never meant to lead.

Though the discomfort remained, he tried hard to push it aside. “Does Lilly like him? If not, don’t force her to go.” “Lilly really likes Milton. We’ve gone out together before, and it was very enjoyable.” Mr. Hawthorne nodded slowly. “Good.” Natalie took his silence as consent for Lilly to go, and she chose not to say more. However, something else bothered her, so she decided to speak again, “Some women have come to me, asking about our relationship.” Since their marriage ended, Mr. Hawthorne had shown a hidden dark side. Women became pawns in the network he built. It was part of his personal vendetta against the world that had shunned him. Mr. Hawthorne thought the women who approached Nat

"So... the marriage that ruined my life also destroyed another future I never even knew I had." ​The Player Steps Forward ​Inside his private office at Hawthorne Maritime, Nathaniel Hawthorne stood gazing through floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the harbor. An assistant entered quietly. "Sir, the countdown has reached seventy-one hours." ​Nathaniel smiled faintly. "Excellent." ​The assistant hesitated before asking, "Are we really going to release everything?" ​"I've waited seven months," Nathaniel replied, keeping his eyes on the water. "I'm not waiting any longer."

in his mind he still heard their pleas and cries he had to deafen himself to so he could sate the cruel hunger of the infernal beings. How those creatures delighted in their curse. Even now, he heard the tiptoe of small feet, soft weeping of childish tears. Only to be suddenly replaced by the clack of vile hooves and low, unnatural laugh. "You'll not beat me," Nathaniel whispered, jotting down where a mass of rocks was on his charts. The odour of sulphur forced its way into the room, assaulting the air with its rancidness. "If you have my soul, you'll not have the others."