Novel & Cerita Original Hunger Games Covers

the Alpha Pharoah thought wonderingly. The Alpha Pharoah stood up and then walked toward the center of the arena beside Fiel. He got the hand of Fiel and just like the announcer, held it up and declared him as the winner. While putting Fiel’s hand down, he sniffed deeply trying to smell the scent of the champion of the ‘Game of Fangs and Death’. “Why is it that your blood smells so differently from an ordinary human being? What are you?” the Alpha Pharoah said in a whispering tone that made Fiel look at him suddenly with a quizzical look.

There was a leather couch in the corner, a bar cart with expensive-looking bottles of whiskey, and a window that overlooked the estate grounds. It was the kind of room that screamed power and control. The kind of room that belonged to a man like Jonathan Hart. I walked over to the bookshelves, running my fingers along the spines. Most of them were business books, biographies of CEOs and politicians, a few on philosophy. Then I noticed something odd. One of the shelves looked… different. Like it didn’t quite sit flush with the wall. I reached out and pressed against it gently. There was a soft click, and the shelf swung inward.

Then Natalie arrived, and she was taking up the rapping verse before finally ending with a chorus. Everyone cheered and clapped as they bowed and hugged each other and turned around on the podium. The cake got rolled in and it had six layers and was designed like camouflage, just like the ones in the army. Natalie got down and read the note attached to it. 📃📃📃 Happy birthday to my favorite bush baby. Love Daddy. " Aww... He remembered." Ariana called. Natalie chuckled. " Of course he did... Why shouldn't he?"

she shouted after me. I pretended not to hear just so she would shut the hell up. I stretched out on the lounger by the poolside, sipping a giant cup of pineapple juice while I read the first book of The Hunger Games. The house was empty and quiet since Alessia and Natalia had left to go shopping earlier.

is my best friend, my brother, a very sexy brother, that I may or may not have had very dirty dreams about. Every Huntress is paired with a male guardian from the bloodlines. They are our anchor, our only genuine connection to our humanity. “The council want to see you, debrief you on the shi*show that used to be a Mall.” “It’s not like we blew it up, is it? And the explosion covered up the attack, right? So they should be happy.” The current head elder is my grandfather. Not that he carries any interest in me other than as a Huntress. He is a di*k, and I find it very hard to remain loyal to him and his a**hole council. “Okay, let’s get this over with. I am not getting any younger.” Chuckli

She wondered what Lizzy meant and curiosity rose at its peak when she wanted to know why she thought this book may relieve her pain or help her decide. She crossed a thumb along the edges and slowly lifted off the cover with her index finger. She gasped when her eyes lay on the most beautiful thing ever. It was a picture of Ronan in his green and yellow tux with a flashing grin that revealed all his teeth, even the canines that had once cut her.

The cover of the book read, “Arthur Zimmerman, Game 71. I found the second shelf on the case and scanned for my next book. Book thirteen had a cover of deep purple. I frowned at the woman looking up at me, scanning over her tangled fiery curls, the cinnamon freckles across her nose, and the way her emerald eyes seemed to twinkle at me from the cover. Her hair and eyes were the only familiar thing about her. My face was a bit rounder than hers, and definitely held a bit more baby fat. Her cheekbones were high and her lips full, conventionally beautiful in a wild sort of way. I felt that twinge of guilt as I looked down at the cover. “Sasha Burnette, Game 51.”

"I didn't bring a present on your birthday, so maybe now. Sorry for being late, and I brought you books that you may likeㅡ" I immediately closed the box and returned it to him. He was surprised by what I did and seemed even more confused. "I can afford my own things," I said and turned my attention back to reading. I saw him smile and scratched the back of his neck while still facing me. "It's up to you, the limited edition cover of the Hunger Games is still here.." He said softly but I heard it. Wait for what? Did he say limited edition? I gasped and immediately grabbed the box back from me but he was stronger and had a tighter grip on the box so I couldn't get it back. Fuck!

But hope, like magic, has a price, and I am increasingly aware of that price. The book itself is a work of macabre art. The cover, made of dark leather that almost appears black, pulses with a life of its own, as if it were breathing. The leather is stained with deep shades of red, almost as though it has been soaked in blood over the centuries, giving it a sinister and throbbing appearance. Along the edges of the cover, aged silver chains are interwoven in complex patterns, depicting ancient runes and seals of protection, symbols only an enchantress could decipher. The title of the book is carved into the leather in rustic letters, subtly glinting with ruby, as though the words had been wri

But I knew some hill folk—especially a hoodoo man named Clive Hartley—who could read Latin, so I put it aside for later. I looked back into the box and of course, that’s when I found it. The book that’s caused all this trouble. The Way of Ah-Tzenul. Course, that’s not what’s printed on the cover. There’s a picture of some sorta tribal man squatting down with both hands raised to the sky etched into the cover and traced in silver. Otherwise, it’s a plain-looking book, all bound in pebbly black leather.