Screamers Book Novels & Stories

"Okay, okay, easy. I’m just telling you about my favorite event of the day. Relax and keep yourself calm. I’m not sure if you’ll like what I’ll say next…" I think I know what he’ll say. The agency wants me to accept the offer because I’d clearly stated my disgust when it was offered. "Tic wanted you to accept the offer." Tic is short for Terror-In-Closet. The guy that I inadvertently caused a scandalous incident with. I think I’m still absent-minded that I didn’t straighten my facts.

I scream. He’s across the room in two strides. One gloved hand clamps over my mouth, muffling the sound, the other pinning my wrists above my head. The duffel drops to the floor with a heavy thud. I thrash, naked, wet, terrified, but he’s solid muscle, immovable, his body heat radiating against my bare skin. He smells like rain-soaked leather and something warm under that makes my traitor brain think safe when nothing about this is safe.

Never let dogs smell fear! The hungry look on these men’s faces as their eyes run over my practically naked body makes it obvious that they smell my fear, and they fucking love it. I look around the room, thinking that I’ve never seen so much leather, facial hair, and tattoos in such a small space. I try to find a friendly face, but they’re all looking at me like they want to bend me over the nearest table and fuck the living hell out of me.

I screamed at it trying to sound as strong and fearless as I could. It tilted its head to the side and let out an amused chuckle, then said in a deep and velvety voice, “You will be mine, Freya Rose.” The words slivered of off its tongue, sending chills down my spine. “Like hell I will!” I roared. I began to charge right at the bastard. The blurry faced people frantically screamed at me, every time I ran past one of them. I heard them clearly now and they shouted things like,

I scowled at his rudeness, not caring to stare at the bottoms of his sneakers, thanks, but Liam didn't say anything about it so I let it go. "I found some information which may help." Liam turned, scooping up a thin stack of books he handed to me. I flipped the first one over, the cover made out of some kind of old leather stained red, and squinted down at the writing. The letters seemed to burn as my gaze passed over them and I finally had to hand it off to Sassafras who was snapping his fingers in annoyance at me, gesturing for me to hand it over. More teeth gritting. I wouldn't have any left at this rate. I gave him the book slowly, on purpose, flashing him a smile when his scowl grew dee

After losing his entire retirement savings to a scam, my father-in-law, Kyle Knight, tried to kill himself by overdosing on pills. I frantically called my husband, Joshua Knight, a psychology expert, hoping he could talk his father out of it. "Dad lost his entire retirement fund to a scam. He left a suicide note, and he's trying to kill himself. Come home!" Instead, Joshua snapped at me for making such a big deal out of it. "Your dad's made plenty of bad decisions before. Maybe this'll finally teach him a lesson. Don't bother me with stupid stuff like this again. I'm trying to watch a movie with Vanessa." For a second, I thought he hadn't heard me clearly. I was about to tell him that t

He touched it with a gentleness I hadn't seen him show to anything else. By the time dusk rolled in, I couldn’t stay cooped up anymore. The walls of the room felt like they were pressing in. I slipped out and wandered through the dimly lit hallways of the clubhouse. Most of the bikers ignored me, their attention on card games or greasy food. Some stared, curious but silent, their eyes following me like shadows. I heard whispers, hushed tones that carried through the smoke-filled air. About “the girl Reaper brought in.” About me being “another broken bird.”

The gym doors swung open, and a wall of sound crashed over Alice—blaring pop anthems, cheers roaring from a sea of bodies packed into bleachers. Strobe lights cut through the haze, painting the crowd in slashes of red and gold, the air thick with sweat, perfume, and a metallic tang that set her teeth on edge. She’d fled the classroom’s suffocating notes—You’re theirs, weapon—and Elara’s vision of Samuel’s rally ritual, Rhea’s venomous taunt, Mira’s sly note, Liam’s desperate text (I need you), and the new girl’s hiss (Samuel’s watching). Her wrist scar pulsed, a reminder of the truth: she was a lab-enhanced weapon, her mother’s affair with the Alpha a cult-orchestrated lie, Liam’s love a tri

Alarmed, I grabbed my phone and bolted for the door. It flew open, and a gang of men in black stormed in, wielding baseball bats. Evelyn shrieked, yanking me behind her in a mockery of protection. The leader of the gang sprawled on the couch, blowing a plume of cigarette smoke. "When's my money coming?" My voice trembled despite my resolve. "You can't change the deal." He flicked ash onto my hand, the burn sharp. "I've been patient, but interest piles up. I'm generous enough to ask for one million instead of two."

The impact was a metal-on-metal scream that vibrated through the frame of the heavy War-Wagon and directly into Elena’s bones. The reinforced steel bumper of the armored SUV smashed into the chained gates of the Vane Tower loading bay, sending a blinding shower of yellow sparks into the rainy dark. The gates gave way with a violent groan, tearing off their concrete anchors, and the vehicle surged forward into the blinding, freezing downpour of the Blackwood night.