Painter Of The Night Novels & Stories

The trap is set. Police ready. Noah’s security tracking Marcus’s every move. We wait. Days stretch endlessly. I paint to cope—new pieces for the exhibit. Dark colors. Pain pouring out of me. Noah watches me work, eyes soft. “You’re incredible.” Sometimes I cry mid-brushstroke. He comes to me, arms wrapping tight. When words fail, we make love. Slow. Desperate. His hands worship my body. His mouth lingers on my breasts, sucking gently—

The room quieted. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us tonight." Her voice carried. Professional. Warm. "We're honored to present the centerpiece of this collection. A deeply personal work by Miss Sienna Blake. She's titled it 'That Night.'" The assistant pulled away a black cloth. The painting emerged. Gasps. Whispers. Camera flashes. It was large. Overwhelming. Intimate. Two bodies tangled in shadows. Moonlight spilling across bare skin. Sheets twisted. A hand resting on a chest. A window half-open showing city lights beyond.

He sucked a mouthful of air and unconsciously put his fingertip to his lips, his mouth no longer quivering but smiling like a psycho. “I can't let him be free for that long; I must do what I must do so I can have him locked up as soon as possible and press his perfect body underneath mine.” He just stopped his crazy lips when he felt Nigel staring from the front mirror; he acted like he was sleepy and stretched his arm. “A mysterious CEO like me is called a rapist; that's so nasty,” he thought and smirked. Being mysterious, he was wearing a silver mask covering three-fourths of his face, revealing half of his lips.

" We notch our bows and wait for the morrow Cold is the night and nary a tear for on the morn we head into shadow There is no room for our fear His eyes are cruel, his evil is endless Black is soul and ne'ver he'll rest till all the world lies covered in darkness and none who'd fight him are left. Zhanere Zelezial"

"You have a very attractive eye, sir. It is like you see me... unravel me. May I ask about your profession?" Young Normal leaped to his feet with his finger in the air. "Of course, madam." He rummaged amongst his bags and boxes and brought out a painting. "I'm a painter, madame." He hurried the tray of tea quirks and spread out his babies. A beautiful painting of a woman. An elegant portrait. The countess' eyes broadened at the resemblance, and she ran her fingers lightly over the woman's cheek. The portrait of a young prostitute in the wharf tavern.

“Right’ but I'm going to ask you to look a little closer’ tell me what you see l. There is meaning behind this painting.” I sigh silently, then take a closer look, I look at the splashes’ the direction they're going in’ how they splat on the canvas, and I couldn't help but feel myself tearing up. “He's angry or sad. I could see it splashes in the direction they go in the clumps of paint.” “This painting was made by Daniel Knight’ the night his mother died, he went to three basements and started throwing paint over a painting he had already done. Look closer and tell me what else you see.”

Sometimes Being insomnia is so irritating. My eyes fell on my incomplete painting and i thought to complete it. I started this painting few weeks ago but wasn't able to complete due to my busy schedule. I took the canvas and painting material towards the balcony. I want to paint in open under the moonlight. Painting helps to keep my mind calm .And that's how i spent my whole night in painting. After 4 hours of continuous painting finally i completed my painting. It's a beautiful painting of a lonely girl which is a double exposure sunset painting. One of my best creations

A perfect and graceful figure stood at the end of the balcony, glancing in far distance with no direction. His handsome devilish face glow due to the beauty of morning sun reflecting on it. He was like a godly man descend on earth. Charming and captivating but dark inside. In spite of the gorgeous appearance this figure execute but his face was filled of coldness and subduedness. He couldn't get a good night sleep late night after the report Fred bought to him. Why? Why haven't he been able to sleep all because of this girl. She becomes a part of him that he could not understand. He was so restless late night that he did not have a good night sleep. His thoughts, mind were all occupied by he

"Type the digits out." The Moon had reached its peak in the clandestine, rich velvety sky, illuminating the sweat beads trickling off Uriel's forehead as he pressed a slender paintbrush against the decorated canvas. His fingers glided, bent, twisted and turned precise to the nanometre, painting a thousand stories with a single stroke. Every ounce of paint whispered part of the canvases journey, chorusing to form a story that words simply could not explain. No lexicon of any language was able to convey the weight and sincerity of Uriel's clear, yet blurred emotions. Erin was increasingly becoming squirmy and unstill, stool not proving to be up to his standard of comfort.

He noticed the man's expression was astonished and said, “Do you know what the Starlight organization is? That girl is the only girl in the Starlight organization.” When he heard Zack's words, the man was shaken and couldn't do anything else. All that man could do was give up and rot in prison. On the other hand, the liberated Lux ​​was. She turned her head behind her and saw the little girl shivering from the cold from the ice. Then, Lux removed her black jacket from her body and she walked over to the little girl. Lux put a jacket on the little girl and she smiled gently, “Sorry for making you cold, little girl.” Lux stroked the little girl's head gently.