Schmidt 29 Novels & Stories

MATTEO RODRIGUEZ Matteo Rodriguez has just gotten back from his morning exercise. His body dripped of sweat and smelt of fresh leaves and of woods. He marched straight to the fridge and grabbed a sachet of packaged blood. He tore it open with one bite and gulped the whole content at a go. He wheezed out air and hissed noisily with a squeezed face. There was nothing better than drinking human blood.

The snow fell lightly outside the windows of the war chamber, coating the black stone balcony in a fine shimmer of frost. The fire crackled behind Valerian as he stood with one hand resting on the edge of the long stone table, a scroll half-unfurled in front of him. The emblem of the Morello pack marked the parchment in dark crimson ink, bold and unapologetic. Alexandro had agreed to the neutral meeting, but the contents of the letter didn’t sit right with him.

James Smith got out of the car first, she hesitated for a while, then got out of the car. Although she desperately didn't want to stay in the same hotel with that man, she had no other choice at the moment. She couldn't stay in any hotel without her ID. "Okay, Mr. Smith, I'll go right away." Max Holland hung up, helpless. He turned to Rachel West and said, "Madam, go in quickly, Mr. Smith lives on the 30th floor, room 3008." "Aren't you going in?" "I have to go get some medicine."

They were our closest geographically and culturally so I guess Garcia and Alex spoke often. Then he introduced me to the Alpha from Germany, Schmidt. He was a sweet man, he seemed to be the oldest so far in his late 20’s. His accent was thick and he had the most crystal clear blue eyes I had ever seen to match his light hair. Alex explained that he and Schmidt were on good terms, but didn’t speak socially unless they bumped into each other at an event. “Any sign of Lorenzo?” Alex asked Garcia. “Not yet, they just said tonight though, it is only 930,” he told Alex. They both glanced around and I could feel through Alex that there was some worry around this Lorenzo person’s arrival.

"... you're killing yourself." Si Jin ... saka niya ako tinalikuran. Natahimik ang boung klase... ng dumaan siya at lumabas ng laboratoryong yun. Lumapit sa akin si Sir Edmund... Inamoy ang laman ng Pitcher... "Sinong naglagay nito dito? Acrylic Acid 'to?" Nagulat ako... Kamuntik na yun... Ngunit parang ang bilis naman ng tawidin ni Jin kaagad ang distansya namin?

"So, do you have a strategy for dealing with her?" "I’m figuring something out." "I’ll keep an eye out for other options." "I don’t think that’s needed." Thomas brushed off a leaf that had landed on his arm. "Her friend called her Smith, and the sword she had was beautifully decorated with Celtic designs." He saved the best detail for last. "There were bits of amber in the hilt." Now serious, Gelo set the bread down and asked, "Do you think Grinna knows her?" Thomas nodded. "It was her friend who confirmed that and the truth about her character."

‘That’s what I thought,’ he remarked with a faint smirk tugging at his lips. Him and his Alpha’s superiority! “There’s indeed someone else’s scent -” “Whose scent is it?” Dalton cut him off. “I can’t figure it out. It’s too vague.” The pack scout stood up and dusted his pants. Dalton knelt down on one knee and got close to the bottle of antiseptic. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath of the scent. His nose twitched as though overwhelmed by the different scents mixed together.

ISLA GRACE MILLER DATE OF BIRTH: JUNE 18TH AGED: 18 HAIR: AUBURN EYES: GREEN HEIGHT: FIVE FOOT FIVE INCHES GUARDIAN - JUNE DANIELS, RELATION: MATERNAL GRANDMOTHER, DECEASED- CEDAR FALLS. SCORED HIGH MARKS: TRACKING; HAND/HAND COMBAT; TEAMWORK; FIELD FIRST AID NOTES: RUN RISK LEVEL 2; ONE ATTEMPT YEAR ONE AT TRTC. RECEIVED COUNSELING. MEDICATED WITH ANTIDEPRESSANT FOR YEARS 1-3. CLEARED FOR DISCONTINUATION OF USE AFTER REASSESSMENT.

Despite being rejected by Alyssa, Landon was furious when he saw her with another man. He continued, "He looks all polished with those glasses, but I bet he's a wolf in sheep's clothing. And why does he have that weird, powdery look on his face? Where's he from?" Jasper's gaze remained fixed on Alyssa as he explained with an icy tone, "He's Jameson Schmidt, the youngest son of Victor Schmidt from the Schmidt Group." "The Schmidts?" Landon was taken aback. "Why haven't I heard of this guy before?"

Beethoven’s Ninth filled the room. One of the detectives approached the TV to turn it off. “Don’t,” she said. The detective stopped in mid-stride. “I want to hear it.” She stood there, staring at Sergei, as his voice filled the room. His voice that had been alive only hours before. It was eerie. Grace circled the room once more. This time she kneeled. “We’ve already been over this room, detective,” the FBI agent said, impatient. She spotted something out of the corner of her eye. She reached down, far beneath one of the slick armchairs. She craned her neck and twisted her arm, and reached all the way under.