Quinlan Vos Book Novels & Stories

"That's why I'm sending you out." I went into the living room as Quillan finally picked one of the four books he had and held it over his head with a triumphant grin. "This one!"

she had said. 'What is this important thing you're looking for anyway?' I cringe when I hear Fareedah's unnaturally loud voice, and Quain ducks like he has been shot. 'Keep your bloody voice down,' he snarls, rubbing the bruised side of his face. Fareedah grits her teeth. 'I'm a wolven, Quain. I've killed more things than you'd think, and gods know I'd be more than willing to take a beast life or two at the moment,' she snarls back. He scoffs but goes on walking, his back slightly straighter this time. 'It's a book,' Saelyna says. 'A book?' 'It sounds….less important when I say it out loud'. 'And this…book did not come to your knowledge sooner?' 'No,' Saelyna replies with a thoughtful frown,

Abigail said as she sank down onto a chair with a defeated expression. “We’ll be the victors in this, “I assured her. “I just need to do a little prep work before we go into battle.” “Understood,” she nodded. “What do I do?” “Rest,” I said. “You’ll need it.” She draped her body over the chair and swung her legs absent mindedly while she watched me pour over the pages of the grimoire. With my strength returned to me and my magic intact, I speed read the entire eight-hundred-page ancient book -with one-hundred percent retention- within a matter of minutes.

However, I feel that uncovering its secrets will lead to more questions. I find Quinn in the dimly lit study, surrounded by stacks of dusty tomes and ancient scrolls. Her eyes are fixed on a particularly worn leather-bound book, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Quinn,” I say, my voice cutting through the silence. She looks up, her gaze sharp and focused. “Salvatore,” she replies, setting the book down carefully. “What did you find out?” I take a deep breath, the weight of my discovery settling on my chest. “I spoke with a group of supernatural’s,” I begin, watching as Quinn’s expression shifts from curiosity to a mix of anticipation and trepidation.

She is just trying to be honest. “You're welcome,” said Quan in the end, feeling the need to return her teacher's thanks, no matter how impudent the reason was. “And where did your answer come from, Quan Durbysch?” Mr. Kei asked while tilting his head. Realizing that all the eyes in the class were on her, Quan's head felt as if an invisible ant was biting her. “From the boring book entitled Children of the Night which is now in the museum,” Quan said finally. “People say it's just bullshit, I say it's interesting.”

"If you don't know yet, my sister is a writer. Romantic story is her forte and so far she has two books under the name 'Nameless'." The guests are amazed again. "So you are the author of the book that Ma'am Celia gave us," said one of the guests. Rolan and Nanny Rita quickly looked to each other before looking at Cela to see her reaction. "Oh the lobsters are here," Joyce said in a tone that would catch anyone's attention. "Thanks, Chef." The guests get excited seeing the star of the table. Rolan turned to Joyce to thank her. Cela is curious about what she heard but couldn't turn the conversation back to that. All the guests are obviously hungry and are now busy eating. She had a few bi

Evanora skims through the rest of the book- the inane details that follow are of no relevance to her. In this manner, she flips through the pages until a sentence catches her eye. This is the tale of the Vischer family. She stops flipping and focuses on that sentence, mouthing the words as her thin fingers trace them. Written in bold, cursive letters, these words may very well seem like a normal piece of writing that is stylised and highlighted. But those eight words mean something else to her.

Zion concluded. Hence, he called Quentin. "I have a book that'll really help your wife with her exam. Why don't you swing by and get it for her tomorrow?" "She doesn't need it!" Quentin snapped. Zion could tell he was still pissed. "Look, you won't find this book anywhere else!" Quentin hung up on him. Zion was at a loss for words. … The next morning, Quentin showed up at the hospital with a steely expression. It was as if someone had robbed him of a million bucks. "Where's the book?" he asked coldly.

She gasped. “Wait—this isn’t a lineage book,” she said. “It’s... oh goddess, Kayla—look.” I turned toward her. She held up a thick black leather-bound book. Gold lettering had long since faded, but one sentence remained etched across the front: My secret thoughts. I couldn't see the Authors name though. Just the title. “Is that a diary?” I whispered. “Looks like it.” "Belonging to who?" I asked but Ingrid shook her head.

“Quinn!” Graham opened the door wide and crossed his arms. “Can you not do this!” He shouted. “My mate is acting weird. I need the book now.” Reid said. Quinn entered in her robe and she rolled her eyes then, she pulled out a thick book with a new cover and handed it to him. “Here, dummy.” Quinn rolled her eyes again. “I fixed it into a new cover. “Thanks.” He stood and skimmed on the book. “By the way, there should be some good news when both of you are fucking nonstop.”