Riley Thorn Series Novels & Stories

Yseah spoke with firm but a hollow meaning behind it. Greetings! This is my first ever werewolf story. I really was looking forward writing this. And if there are wrong typos and grammars, that I deeply apologize. I am sorry in advance. By the way, if you're enjoying the story, please vote gems for Mated to the Thorns. Thank you!! -Note: From Author, MysticGrace

while Caleb yelled, “Shouldn’t steal a man’s cookies.” As an only child, Abby had had to get used to how boisterous the Thorntons were when she’d attended her first Thornton get-together. Add to that that Mark was easily the quietest of the siblings, and it had been quite enlightening to meet everyone at once. She and Mark stood some feet away near one of the windows, out of earshot of the rest of the group. Mark turned so they faced each other, although Abby found herself gazing out into the woods, watching the rain patter against the glass.

I saw Ackleth Mason for the first time during the new year orientation week held by the school management. While in other schools, the first week of resumption was for students to catch up on everything that missed during the break, circulate the latest gists and rumours, flaunt the new gears and wears they got over the breaks and also participate in cleaning the school environment, In Brixden, the orientation was an old tradition and the first week of resumption was always packed with lots of activities ranging from commissioning of new projects by the alumni association to sorting of class schedules.

He said and chuckled. "No, Obviously No." She said while rolling her eyes. "Now, let me pluck the thorn out of your back." She continued and observed that a large thorn has punctured his back with a large stem and few petals of a dark red rose similar to black shade. "It's okay darlo. The person should not be afraid of thorns if they crave for roses." He said while Irina plucked out the penetrated stem of a rose. He acted to hiss in a pain.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. The Very Thought of You (The Thorntons Book 2) Published by Blue Violet Press LLC Seattle, Washington Copyright © 2017 by Iris Morland Cover design by Resplendent Media All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of b

I close my eyes biting my lower lip and say softly, “Hands to yourselves Mr. Hawthorne.” “You make me turn on whenever we’re alone, especially when we are in a confined space.” Adrian whispered into my ear as I felt his breath tingling around my neck and could feel my arm hair rise, having goosebumps as he stroked my arm gently up and down. He pushes me slowly into the small room that has a small bed which has only a divider that separates the room.

I'd deal with what it meant later, when the twins were safe and the sixty days were intact and I could afford to do something about Selene Voss without it becoming a larger fire than I had hands to put out. We went back to the living room. Grayson had surrendered completely to the block tower project and was accepting structural critiques from Hunter with the dignity of a man who had decided that losing gracefully was a skill worth practicing. I heard Riley before I saw her — a small sound from the direction of the kitchen, quickly suppressed. I turned. She was watching Grayson and Hunter with the expression she got when something was too much and she was holding it by the very edge. I didn'

She goes to a different school so I didn't know much about her. "Right on time as always. Have fun, Riley." She smiled and started to collect her things to leave. The library was almost empty except for a few kids, doing their homework or reading some book. I got bored and started to work on my own school stuff and halfway through it, I felt a huge shadow looming over my head. I lifted my gaze to see who it was and my eyes went wide, mouth hanging open with my pencil dangling between my lips.

Fuck maybe I should kill the guy. All thoughts go out the window when I glance at my compound it is chaotic. There are trucks parked along the drive. Workers carrying stone tiles. Someone measuring the terrace. Someone else arguing about paint finishes. My estate, which has run with silent precision for years, now looks like a construction site. Fucking shit it is. And in the centre of it all is Riley. She stands with a clipboard in her hand, wearing jeans her hair is up in a cute ponytail and she has that expression she gets when she thinks she is right. She is directing people. Correcting them. Thanking them. Smiling.

She traces down to the hem of it, this close to my knees. I gently tilt my head backward to stop the chills it does to my bare body. I'm so perverted that every touch feels like Mercer in passing. “Just a little touch.” She claps. Thank heavens. I stop to gulp the stale air and return my mind to where it ought to be. Right here, in a public restroom, not with Mercer… not as his toy. Riley sets her bag down and miraculously pulls out scissors, a needle, and a bag of different colored threads… how did they even fit into that small pouch?