Obanai Novels & Stories

Having got some tips to utilize A****n better, I am still not sure if I am willing to use it. So, Arcana publishing site is still uncertain. Stay tuned to never miss an update 👇 Twitter @RJCrowns I*******m @rjcrowns Thanks, Enoch Olalere. The next day was predicted to be sunny so I just wore a doublet and trousers. It was not though. I don't know but I enjoyed watching the disappointed of the weather casters when rain fell instead of the hail they predicted. Perhaps God was showing them He did things the way He wants to.

It’s impossible unless there’s some magic in it. “Both of you must be wondering how it would happen because there’s no way it would.” He responded calmly with a smile. “So...” I trailed off as Harry glances at me. “Why did it happen?” “There’s a story behind it.” Cortèz states and it instantly made me curious. “In ancient times, thousands and thousands of years ago, there was a deity called Olca and she was the keeper of that volcano. Olca was lonely in her volcano and had no one there with her because the volcano was surrounded by the huge sea. Until she met the human who took the risk to visit the volcano. He was a mountaineer from the island of Maui and he was Luahu. His name in Mauian la

POV Wolf I could tell that Ruby was annoyed about me buying the dresses and crashing their shopping trip but I didn't care. I realized after lunch that Foxy wouldn't have the money to buy a dress at the stores that Cassy and Scarlett would shop at and I wasn't about to let her go without or be embarrassed. I wasn't expecting Ruby to understand or realize that Foxy wouldn't be able to afford the dress though. It made me like her more but I also needed her to understand that I take care of my people. Foxy is a member of my gang and my friend, it's my job to take care of her, not Ruby's. I really wasn't planning on buying Ruby's dress or Cassy's but since she pushed the issue, I decided to prov

Fanny’s ignorance was palpable. At that moment, George Brown, who had not yet appeared, hurriedly came from the kitchen. He approached Jiro Ono and performed a deep, formal French bow. In halting Japanese, he said, “Mr. Ono, it is an honor to meet you today and witness your skills. This has been a dream of mine.” Master Jiro Ono smiled and shook George’s hand. “Master George, you are too humble.”

Kenji cursed under his breath, grabbed his car keys, and called Inoue. "Get me connected to Kyoko Fujita, immediately!" * Zabuton: a cushion designed for sitting on tatami

) Since when could she speak Japanese? “Hai, daijobudesu kyasu. Masani onryodesu ne. Anata no hyoban ga anata o zenshin sa semasu. Keomi, anata wa karera o dosureba yoi ka shitte imasu.” (Yes, it is ok Cass. You truly are an Onryo. Your reputation proceeds you. Keomi, you know what to do with them.)

Inojin Senshi, captain of the Kansa Mortals, was not the kind of man who made it easy for people to like him. His teammates called him Barney, though never to his face unless they were on good terms. His personality was a strange mix,mean and strict on the surface, but deeply loyal to those he trusted, with a sarcastic streak that sometimes felt like affection and sometimes felt like a knife.

He also has his hands behind his back and I don’t know why. “Well look whose up” the man says. His voice is rough and grates on my already frazzled nerves. “Welcome to Thornback Nova. We don’t have a lot of rules here. Basically submit and obey and you wont get punished. Not complicated at all”. It is the most patronising tone I have ever heard.

Alpha Aleksandr of the Eastern Realm sat rigid beside him with rugged features, dark brown hair and amber eyes hard as flint with a pale scar nicking one brow as he tracked every move Orion made. At the far end of the table sat Chancellor Dawson, the lone human among Lycans. His thin fingers were clasped tightly together atop a stack of papers, his expression carefully composed. Yet, the faint tang of fear rolling off him was impossible to miss. Orion took his seat at the head of the table. "Let's begin." Caspian's smirk deepened. "You're late, Orion." Orion shot him a sidelong glance. "And yet, I'm still the one you waited for."

She turns the camera on. Elder Mariko's face materializes — seventy-two years old, face weathered like river stone, iron-gray hair pulled into a tight bun. She's wearing a simple kimono, indigo with white cranes. Behind her, the sliding door to the garden is open, and Aurelia can hear the bamboo water feature *clack-clack-clack* in the dark. "Obāsan." Aurelia's voice cracks on the word. "I need to ask you something about the Silvermane bloodline."