Painter Of The Night Novels & Stories

My fingers still smelled like paint and possibility. For a moment, I closed my eyes and just felt—the gentle throbbing behind my temples, the steady rise and fall of my breath, the hum of the street below. There were no demands here. No ghosts in tailored suits, waiting to remind me who I was supposed to be. Just me, and the paint. I pinned the painting to my cork board. Next to it, two others: “Rain on Roosevelt Street” and “City at Dawn”. They weren’t perfect, but they were honest.

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.

I don’t want him to see the big one before the exhibition, which is why I decided to work on it here in my room instead of beside the big bookshelf where I usually paint my other pieces. I look at the clock on the nightstand and then look at myself in the mirror. I’m covered in black and red paint up to my elbows, with splotches of gray and red on my shirt. I even have some on my face. My delivery is coming soon, so I should probably change and wash my face and hands before I head downstairs to wait for it. ADRIAN'S POV I’m talking to Mikhail on the phone, getting the update on the last shipment, when there’s a knock on the door and Dimitri walks in.

I asked him and he laughed a little. When I am done, you will find out.” He responded and I frowned a little. “Now you are keeping me in suspense,” I said. He laughed and walked closer to me. “Don’t worry about it, before we will leave you'd get to see it.” He said, then I smiled and nodded. “So these paintings, you did them here? Cause how come I never knew earlier?” I asked him. “I do these paintings mostly at night, and you are always off to bed very early.” He explained and I was totally surprised.

my mind wondered off to that fateful night when a police officer showed up at our house to tell us what had happened, Rita was so young then, I remembered how we cried in each other's arms and how she got nightmares for a few months after that night, I turned to Grace, "Can you help me into the wheelchair?" I asked, Grace helped me take a sit "Take me to Robert's room" I said, she wheeled me to the last floor which had his room without questioning me "You can go back now" I said as I was in front of his door, taking a deep sign, I knocked on the door. After not receiving a response after a few seconds, I opened the door and wheeled myself in, Robert was sitting on the floor with a bottle of

he finally said and we ended our night of drinking. The next few weeks were a whirlwind in which not only were the traitors arrested, but I made a major restructuring of the personnel. So, on one of those afternoons in mid-December, my sister called, she had left some paintings at my house and needed me to take them to her academy. I never thought that when I went to bring it to her I would see Chloe at the reception, I was surprised and I couldn't believe that the world was a handkerchief.

His fingers trailed along my jawline, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. "I wanted to ask you something..." I said, my voice barely above a whisper. He emitted a low, masculine noise that resonated from the depths of his throat, undeniably seductive. "What?" he growled, his eyes fixed on mine. Blinking nervously, I found myself lost in his intense gaze. "Um, could you maybe... get me some paint, canvas, and an easel?" I stumbled over my words, my hands fidgeting with each other. "I used to paint at night when I couldn't sleep, and I thought it might help..."

I asked, stifling a yawn. “New York, we are going to the Museum of Modern Art.” He explained. “I know your favorite painting is Starry Night, this is where the original is at.” “Wow I definitely didn't expect that.” I laughed. Damien was full of surprises. Going from running from police last night to a quiet museum date today. I wasn't sure what to think of him. Every time I thought I had him figured out, he surprised me again.

I saw entities, then I need to draw to forget about them and to release my fears. I was still wearing his shirt when my paints fell all over the place. I was picking it up when Anthony came into the studio. And I grinned at him like a child caught stealing from a candy store. He was looking sleepy, half-naked, and fuck worthy. Damn woman... Horny much? "What do you think you're doing Lilian? It's one in the morning and you're covered in paint." He scratched his head, looking at me. "Sorry, I couldn't sleep. I usually paint after my encounter with them, it would help me forget." I stood up with paint all over me.

But at the peak of my career, he orchestrated an artificial rain to please a nightclub hostess. I fell from grace while he mockingly whispered in my ear, "Jealous? Don't be. I went to even greater lengths when I pursued you. Why can't I make other women smile too?" I finally understood. Once I was his, I became something that he could trample at will. That night, my boss urgently called me in. I quickly prepared my script and was about to enter the studio when Sydney Swain approached me. "Jenny, Cody wants me to try reporting the weather. You don’t mind, do you?"