Night Road Book Review Novels & Stories

Aurelia suggested as I nodded and changed into a more comfy outfit and laid under my duvet, hoping to recharge before evening when Alpha Blake would come for me. As I drifted away into the sleep, the thought of the mysterious book was at the back of my mind and it lingered still. I suddenly woke up drenched in sweat with a racing heart. I had had a dream again which was so real and vivid, it felt like my life. I saw Nora again, whispering to the hooded figure and this time around they were in a room, with the moon casting eerie shadows at them through the window in the empty room. Nora stood with the book, scribbling into it which the figure also read and smiled then handed Nora another smal

Adam said gently. He was always like that. Adam never once messed with me. "Last night, you came to my room, opened the door, and took off my clothes, and you took off yours. We both enjoyed the night without me knowing that you were Adam. The lights were off so that I couldn't catch your reflection very well. I thought you were Gavin; I couldn't hear your sighs and whispers very well either. I might have. It felt different that night. But I didn't think much of it because, damn it, I enjoyed what you did to me," I said honestly. Adam was silent, and so was I. We faced each other in the room, remembering the sin we had committed.

I wasn’t exactly thrilled to be part of the celebration. I hailed a cab, sinking into the cracked leather seat as my mind flickered — not to Rachel — but to him. The mysterious man with the crooked smile and sharp blue eyes. Our one-night stand in New York still lingered in the back of my mind like a secret I wasn’t sure how to feel about.The cab pulled up to my parents' house — same white shutters, same trimmed hedges — but a wave of unease rolled over me. Opposite the street I saw a black car parked across. Don't know but I felt a bit unease.

"Everything is alright." Noah stirred on his bed after a refreshing sleep. He slept for a long time and only woke up the following day. The book he was reading the previous day lay on his bed in a sorry state. He had slept on top of it and the pages were now rumpled. He took it and straightened it. He had a special interest in the book. It was a mystery and detective book. He still had it in his mind to investigate his sister and also find Emily. He will never give up on these two things. The book helped him to think far and wide on various ways to unravel mysteries and catch criminals. The cool water from the shower hit his body just the way he wanted it, calming his nerves. His father was

For in the hush of darkness, when the world sleeps, a thousand tiny wonders unfold, waiting to be discovered by hearts that listen to the whispers of the night. wow. I'm blown away by his talent, but man, this prose is putting me out like a light. Can't fight the sleep fairies. With a sigh that mingled with the rustle of turning pages, I closed the book. My eyes, seeking refuge from the day's light, followed suit, finding sanctuary in the inky depths of my own mind. ________________

I quickly paced down the hall so I could get to the room faster and open this book that felt like a newfound piece of treasure in my hands. As I scanned through the first few pages of the book, it was picture after picture of different drawings and versions of what a nightwolf was portrayed to look like. Some of them were detailed to be howling at the moon, whilst several illustrations had a sort of evil and rabid look to them. But there was one in particular that caught my eye, and instead of just flicking past it, I stopped, staring at how strikingly similar it was. The wolf was pure black, just like mine. No white, silver streaks across its fur like all the others had, and this one was th

Or the floor, or the ground, or up against a wall. I gave a tiny shudder and gave myself a concussion-inducing mental slap. I had to stop thinking about him in such an erotic way. He wasn’t my type and I was certainly not his. I’d seen him in the gossip pages, and at awards events, with blonde bombshells who looked so perfectly put together, they could have been supermodels. Some of them are supermodels. Interestingly, Niamh is a blonde bombshell with her white-blonde hair and stunning figure. I haven’t cracked any mirrors lately but I can safely say I do not look anything like a supermodel. Not even close. I fall into the category of a mousy girl next door. Or maybe a girl down the road, so

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: Friday night was consumed with nightmares and at 4am I decided to give up trying to sleep. I leaned over to my nightstand and pulled out a book and a reading light. Might as well take this time to get something useful done rather than scroll away on I*******m again. It had been a bit but I was finally reading to finish the last book in this fantasy romance series I loved. I hadn’t wanted the story to end so I had put off reading the last book. I loved the romance between the two main characters, a bad-guy fae who turned out to be the good guy all along, and a human girl who finds herself thrown into a world of magic. I just loved their relationship, and the whole concept

She looked at the plate number of the car and discovered that it indeed belonged to the president. Sarah drove into the suburb of the city where one of the desserted buildings was located. When she arrived at the foot of the building, she felt goose pimples all over her body. The building was very old and looked like a place where all sorts of crime was committed. It was very quiet and dark here and Sarah could only hear her soft breath. She looked back but didn't see the car that had been following her. She had lost them at some points but didn't think much about it as she believed that they would catch up with her in no distant time. It seemed she was wrong. There was something off about t

But Lara did… and it hurt her more than what he did to her three years back. Since she was left alone by Christophe and Francine, she went off to explore after dinner, wandering through beautifully furnished and decorated reception rooms that were lifeless. Lara was delighted to come upon a library and, locating the English section, selected ‘Jane Eyre’, her favorite. She hadn’t read it for several years. But Charlotte Brontë failed her for the very first time. Lara found it impossible to concentrate. Standing up again, she cast the book aside and stepped through the curtains to open the French windows that featured in virtually every room. She walked along the terrace. As Lara passed by ope