Robb Stark Book Art Novels & Stories

Greetings to all my wonderful readers! As you've likely noticed, I have actual artwork of my characters for the cover of my book now. This was a commission I paid for from a very dear artist friend by the name of Rydi on DeviantART also known as lucia-garcia on ArtCorgi. We've known each other for a long time now, and I was super happy she gave me permission to use the old commissions in this way, so if you like her style, feel free to check her out.

It's a good thing that I have a retentive memory. I, in no time, found my way back to where I was and started my search for Stark. I found him sitting in the library and reading a book that I think was made for kids. "Hi." I said to him. "Oh, hi." He replied. There was some minutes of silence between the both of us as he continued to read his book and I stood there watching him. "Why are you reading kid's books?" I asked, breaking the silence. "Nothing. I just feel like reading it." Stark said.

It was her getting one last taste of rebellion before settling into the life she actually wants. The realization hits like a blade to the chest. She used him. Took what she needed and left him broken on a riverbank with pretty lies about peace and moving on. Stark stands mechanically, pulling on his clothes with numb fingers. The sun is rising, painting the sky in shades of red that match the blood moon. How fitting. Everything beautiful in his life turns to blood eventually. He doesn't remember the walk back to the rogue camp. One moment he's at the river, the next he's stumbling through the settlement as dawn light filters through the trees. Rogues stare as he passes, but no one approaches

Greetings to all my wonderful readers! As you've likely noticed, I have actual artwork of my characters for the cover of my book now. This was a commissioned piece from a very dear artist friend by the name of Rydi on DeviantART also known as lucia-garcia on ArtCorgi. We've known each other for a long time now, and I was super happy when she agreed to make a book cover for me, so if you like her style, feel free to check her out.

he says grimly, “curses are caused by a terribly evil form of black magic. Their history is fraught with death and gore. I’m not so positive that Lycan Atwood would be pleased with such horrors filling your young mind.” I push my chair back and stand without entirely meaning to. “Please,” I say quietly. “It’s really important to me.” Robert sighs, passing his thin hand over his face before nodding wearily and crossing the room to a locked cabinet with rows of books behind thick glass. He pulls a key out of his pocket and unlocks the cabinet, pulling out one of the books and walking back over to me. He hands it to me, and I read the cover as he walks back to the chalkboard.

I slapped a hundred dollars into his palm, wincing as it left my grip. Fuck. But it’s worth it Rosalie. The phone screen lit up under my fingers, and my stomach dropped. Noah's wallpaper was a shadowy figure looming over a girl kneeling in a cage. Her face was kind of obscured. The art was disturbingly detailed, like something from a horror game. What the fuck. It seemed dark like it held in many meanings. But that’s not the problem now. "Creepy, right?" Steve chuckled. "I was so tempted to see what else his in there. But I wanted to respect you."

I rubbed my forehead, unsure of what to do. “Aren’t you going to say anything? Damn, look at this. So romantic and sensual. He imagined both of you when he bought this.” Nicole said, picking up the art book. “The pictures are out of this world, though the gift is strange. Robert Clarke is very thoughtful. I’ll give him that.” “You think?” I mumbled, staring at the picture Nicole showed me, and my eyes glazed over the sensual black-and-white art. It was a drawing of a naked silhouetted man and woman in bed, tangled with the sheets.

“Come back soon, okay?” “Okay,” she hung up then. “I’m going to town. Am I needed for anything?” I asked Mr Stark when he walked in. My eyes were glued to the tattoos littered all over his upper body. His left sleeve looked like a forest scenery of some sort. Right at the back, he had numbers, a date, with a tiny baby handprint. I wondered what they meant. “You can go,” he said his back to me. ***** | Emmanuel Stark |

I don’t try touching it again. Closing the box, I approach the shelves. I take out the book closest to me. Brushing off the dust, I realize it’s a strategy book, written in delicate penmanship. The paper is fragile, but the tome is bound with great care. The other side of the shelf seems to have hard-bound journals. It’s like an entire couple’s life secured in one small room. I hear a scraping sound, and I turn my head to see Robert picking up a stack of small portraits from one of the iron boxes in the corner.

I tell him. Flavius nods in response and begins to pack his things. I fill my satchel with various clothing items and few books. "Why are you packing books?" Flavius asks curiously. "Since we are visiting another horde without sending a messenger ahead, I need to bring something that will serve as a gift. Those of the Horde of Fates are known knowledge seekers. I have many books in my private collection that have not been seen since The Fires. They should serve as a suitable present," I say.