Nora Roberts Night Tales Series In Order นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Even Rose had disappeared at some point. I turned back to my coffee trying to ignore him but I could feel his eyes on me. They were burning a hole into the back of my head but I refused to turn back around. His scent was invading my senses in all the wrong ways. My fucking libido was doing summersaults but I tamed her down.

Nyra Caleb doesn’t even slow down. We step into the familiar corridor—red, blue, and purple lights glowing over doors, moans already curling into the hallway. The scenes hit harder this time, even though I know what to expect. My eyes flick to a couple through a cracked door—her head thrown back in ecstasy, his hands pinning her thighs. Another room, blue-lit, has a trio tangled on a bed, laughter mixing with breathy cries. It’s everything I saw before, and somehow it still feels new. More intimate. More intense. My gaze lingers too long and I force myself to look, heat creeping up my neck. I should be used to this. I’m not.

Hey beautiful people, Just a warning. This book is an erotica, which means 18+, so if you are uncomfortable with sex and adult stuff, please don’t read my books. But if you are a nymphomaniac like me, go ahead ;) Also guys, for the better understanding of the stories, I’d also like to give you the order in which the books should be read: 1)Nathaniel Lachlan 2)Aaron Riverwood 3)Landon Chambers 4)Danika Williams

She nodded, her expression resolute. She placed the mirror on the floor, and next to it, a small pot filled with a strange, glowing liquid which she surprisingly brought out of her small bag. She closed her eyes, her lips moving as she began to chant a strange, unintelligible language. As she spoke, a wind began to pick up, the fire in the hearth flickering wildly. The windows in the room opened and closed on their own accord as if moved by an invisible hand. A feeling of dread began to creep up my spine, and I felt a chill in the air.

Winston gives a huff, debating once again on giving her plastic silverware. Number eight, Nora, hides under her hooded sweatshirt. She was badly burned in a house fire that killed both of her parents and little brother. Like Addison, her meds help dull her emotions and thoughts. It helps blur her guilt since it was her that set the fire with just a flick of a finger.

Soft footsteps, the faint creak of a mattress, a drawer opening, fabric shifting. I carefully nudged the door open a bit and peered inside. Nora stood by my bed, lifting the corner of the mattress with one hand while sliding something underneath with the other. Her entire demeanor had changed, gone was the gentle sister, replaced by someone sharp, precise, and cold. She wasn’t even being subtle about it. I waited until she smoothed the blanket back into place, then I pushed the door open fully. “Here’s your…” I lifted an empty glass meaningfully, “Oh. You don’t want it anymore?”

Rage at the family she had been thrust into, rage at the chains she hadn’t seen tightening until now. That night, Leah did not return to her chamber. Instead, she slipped quietly through the halls, her footsteps muffled against the carpet. She had no clear plan, only an instinct that screamed at her…. watch, listen, survive. The mansion changed after dark. Corridors stretched longer, shadows deepened, and whispers grew louder behind closed doors. Leah passed the study where Nathan’s father often worked. The door was ajar, lamplight spilling out. She pressed herself against the wall, her heart thundering.

Instead of closing the blinds, she let out a soft laugh, a challenge in her eyes. She was Nyla, after all, a chaotic wildcard who lived life on her terms. Across the courtyard, in apartment 15A, Nico, a man with a face as dark as his secrets, watched her. His eyes, as cold as the night, held a spark of intrigue. He was a mystery and Nyla, with her wild dance, had sparked his curiosity. Nyla's heart pounded in her chest as she felt the weight of his gaze. She could almost feel the heat of his eyes on her skin, igniting a fire within her that she hadn't felt in a long time.

Stephanie's POV: I stood up from my bed and walked to the window, pulling the curtains aside. The sun had already disappeared, and the day was slipping into darkness. The clock on the wall read 10 p.m. Most of my day had been spent exploring the outskirts of the mansion. I’d asked Nora to show me around. To my mom, it seemed like I was beginning to adapt, and she was thrilled about it. But in my mind, I knew the real reason—I wanted to familiarize myself with the layout, ensuring my escape plan tonight would go off without a hitch.

"In my timeline, you didn't reach the Shallows until Chapter 350. The Colosseum... you broke the script too soon." ​Nora stepped forward, her younger face a mirror of the elder’s pain. "You sent the First Verse? You’re the one who started the whole story?" ​"I sent the Warning," the Elder Nora said, reaching out a trembling hand. "I am the Nora from the '400th Chapter'—the one where we followed the Ink-Man’s plan to the end. The one where the Synthesis became a cage, and the Davis line became the very Siphons we fought."