Novel Midtown Novels & Stories

Nostrils flaring, I begin, “I am not the one creating the drama, he started—” But I’m interrupted by her savory lips on mine. And what was I saying again? “I don’t care about the wine. Just keep kissing me,” she breathes through the kiss. Damn. She’s hot. After five hours, we finally glide into the quiet streets of Midtown East, the kind of neighborhood where every townhouse carries its own stories—and all my old, wicked memories.

She considered pulling away, weighed the awkwardness of the gesture against the alternative, and was still mid-deliberation when she found herself already in the car. Right, she thought. That's how that works. --- The shopping center in Midtown occupied an entire city block and contained every luxury brand that had ever considered itself important. It was the kind of place that had a concierge team, a private elevator, and a members-only floor that most people didn't know existed. The moment Ethan walked through the entrance, the building reorganized itself. Vivian watched it happen in real time, the subtle shift in energy, the quiet urgent radio communications, the sudden appearance of seni

She turned back to Julian and smiled, but her mind already wondered when she could slip away with Adrian again. The night went on. The party grew louder. Sienna stayed flushed and wet, carrying the secret of what happened upstairs. Adrian’s creampie marked her as she stood beside her future husband. Deep down she understood the truth. This would not be the end.

He had in his office the scarce evidence, a few photographs of crime scenes, drawings and even vampire cartoons, of something he was completely sure, that was done by a human, and he was someone who knew where to attack, supernatural beings did not exist, The science that he loved so much made him doubt about those nocturnal creatures, this was a man who hated the female gender, and he would find it. The headlines read: STRIKE AGAIN! THE MIDNIGHT KILLER. Now they were two women who were presumably servants of the night, they woke up on the nearby dock, both with looks of terror and those marks made with a fine-edged weapon. A figure was walking along the pier, it was close to five in the mor

In a matter of minutes, the paperwork had been signed and the keys were ours; a much easier process than I had anticipated. Opening the door to our studio apartment - the place we now called home - we had very little idea what to expect. It was cheap, and that was virtually our only criteria. We were instantly met with an overwhelmingly musty smell. The place obviously hadn't been opened up for a while, which was definitely our first port of call. I walked over to the two tall windows on the far side of the room, cranking them open to let in some fresh air. I also took a moment to take in the view. We were on the twentieth floor, with front-facing windows, allowing us to see quite a consider

He placed his phone face down on the bed and headed for the kitchen to make fresh coffee. When he came back into his bedroom, there was a reply. Nine o'clock. Address below. And then there was an address in Midtown that, when Elijah looked it up on his phone, turned out to be the ground floor of a building with its own Wikipedia page. He stood there in his bedroom doorway, his coffee in hand, looking at the address for what seemed like a long time. Outside, the city was coming to life – the first buses, someone's music coming from the building across the street, the way the light was changing that told him the day was starting for real.

ISLA'S POV Midnight hits the city like a physical weight. We’re moving again. Not to another hotel with room service and high-thread-count sheets. Not to the Hamptons estate with its glass walls and ocean views. We are going to a place Gabriel calls "the last resort." An industrial loft in Red Hook, Brooklyn.

“We could upgrade the car. Get a bigger place.” He tilted his head toward a sleek high-rise nearby. “That one looks nice.” They both looked. A pristine luxury condo tower rose into the Manhattan sky, all glass and steel. Floor-to-ceiling windows shimmered in the winter light like cut diamonds. Midtown East. Prime real estate. Benny drifted toward the entrance and tried peeking through the glass. All he saw was his own reflection. He stepped back just as the door swung open from the inside. Ah. One-way mirror.

It's like there are some people in this world, whose presence itself makes it easier for us. I finally reached my aunt's place and was amazed by the natural beauty of it . It was a cosy warm place in the amidst of the mountains and a magnificent lake. I was in love with the place , and I was going to have a blast. That night aunt and I made pizza together and danced all night to the "MAP OF THE SOUL" album. Aunt Adele is a 20 year old trapped inside a 45 years old body.