One Dark Window Series Novels & Stories

Unfortunately, they had no time for anything else than work, as Alistair surely wanted Damon in his hands as soon as possible, to quickly immerse him in the Lake of Darkness, so that he could safely complete his mission and get rid of the "chosen one" They created a kind of contrast - Marco had a dark complexion, black, slightly curly hair, while Chris was pale, with blonde hair in a very light shade. In addition, he was a head taller than his companion and terribly thin. Marco, on the other hand, had broad shoulders and an overall muscular body. They both wore knee-length black coats, trousers of the same color, and elegant shoes. From time to time both Marco and Chris winked at the girls t

The heavy main door of Caden's mansion clicked shut behind me. The sound didn't offer freedom; it sealed me into a new kind of prison. The bright afternoon sun felt too harsh, mocking the darkness that had just settled deep inside me. I was outside, yes, but no longer my own. The air felt thick, heavy with the weight of the deal. My limbs felt weak, like every bone had turned to water. I had agreed. I had sold myself, not just for money now, but for Caden’s sinister game.

Dark of Night Copyright 2019 Emily Goodwin Chapter One “What do you see when you look at this one?” The doctor holds up a card, showcasing an ink splotch that’s twisted and creepy, with eyes that follow you no matter where you go. I look at it, heart hammering away inside my chest. The mess of ink on the white paper reminds me of the monster that lurks in Nana and Papa’s basement, the one that tried to get Abby and Scott to go downstairs with it.

"Tell me if any part of forty-one women on a private list constitutes something being contained." The window behind Vael is open — he hears the latch, registers it a half second before it means anything, and then the cold air comes in and Vael is gone and Dorian is standing in the dark with his hand against the wall and the open window and the answer to his question that was not an answer sitting in the center of his chest like something that has taken up permanent residence. The lights come back on. He turns around.

And a roof that defied the grey sky. House oak rest. They found it. Or maybe she had found it. Nobody moved. Because at the same time they noticed something. All the windows of the house were dark. Except for one. Up top. On the third floor. There was light. Warm. Golden. And there was a shape in the window. Too far away to see her face. But she slowly lifted her hand. Like she's been expecting her. Then she disappeared. And deep out of the interior of house oak rest sounded the sound of oneself

She was still staring at the frozen image when her phone buzzed softly beside her. An unknown number. “Pretty houses don’t keep out wolves. Check the window.” Her stomach dropped. Slowly, she turned toward the glass. At the edge of the tree line, far beyond the manicured lawn, two faint red glows flickered in the dark. Not bright enough to be headlights. Too still to be fireflies. Like the lit tips of cigarettes… watching. Serena’s breath caught. She stumbled back from the window, her hands shaking as she grabbed her phone and bolted for the hall.

Turning the knob, I quietly peeked. If it wasn't because of the sunlight coming from the window, I wouldn't be walking inside. My eyes wandered around the room, as they landed on the bookshelves. I remember Anson and Mr Grayson are owners of a publishing company. No wonder why Luca's office is filled with books. I smiled at the cleanliness of the room, as I walked towards the desk with papers perfectly placed above it. My eyes suddenly landed on a picture frame, but it doesn't have a picture. Instead, a note was placed inside of it.

I stared at the window, watching people walking down the street, and for perhaps the first time in my life, I wondered if any of them were a wizard or a sorceress, and if so, if they had to do what I did - to always run away from something and be careful about everything they do - are they as homeless as I am? I sighed and took a sip of my cup of coffee. After looking out the window again, I saw a tall, well-built guy, about 19 years old, with dark eyes and black half-long, wavy hair, falling slightly over his left eye. His complexion was milky white, which was quite strange, as his features suggested that he was rather Italian. This young man wore dark navy blue jeans and a white shirt with

The whites yellowed and streaked with crimson where the veins had ruptured. He opened his eyes swiftly, his skin draining of colour. The woman was watching, barely noticing the vile images that had started appearing. The contorted faces of children, their tears reflecting their knowledge of their impending death. One after the other...a litany of sin that Nathaniel carried and repented of each day. But as the smoke blurred the vision, she leaned forward, peering deep into the fire. A smile tugged at her thin lips before she sat back and slapped her hand on the ground beside her.