Screamers Book Novels & Stories

His eyes turned red, but he refused to let the tears fall. Bang. The door was kicked open. Several unfamiliar men stood at the entrance. The leader wore a black jacket. A scar ran from his brow to his cheekbone. Three burly men stood behind him like a wall. “Who are you?” My father’s voice turned sharp. “What do you want?” The scarred man grinned, showing yellowed teeth stained with smoke. “Someone told us to take you somewhere fun, sir.” His gaze slid from my father to me. It made my skin crawl.

Scar ordered and Damon could do nothing but stand beside Tammy, watching and waiting as Scar and his Beetle disappeared into the library with the witch. “What exactly are they doing?” Damon asked, though he hadn’t really expected an answer. He was surprised when Tammy stepped closer to him, almost as if she were trying to draw comfort from him.

I could have been on the road to MacTire by now. The citizens of Cambiador were celebrating the Full moon, a blue moon. Each house or street hosted its own parties as they welcomed the full moon that would bring them good fortune and new beginnings. My thoughts were interrupted when the sounds of screams floated in through the open window. Not screams of joy or excitement but screams that lifted the hair on my neck and arms and sent a warning of goosebumps over my skin. I slammed the book shut, jumping up and running from my room. Stepping onto the balcony that overlooked the main hall and looking down. Men and women were scrambling, some running for the door, others stopping to look around.

I removed my hand from the base of his shaft before pushing my head all the way down, taking him deep into the back of my throat. His arm froze on my head not allowing me to move. I thrusted my tongue massaging him as I did my best to fight his hold. His opposite arm grabbed my thigh squeezing it as if his life depended on it. The flames dancing along my skin and inside my throat caused me to moan with my mouth full. He released a growl like the one in the woods. I tasted the precum filling my mouth around his shaft. I was quick to swallow enjoying the bliss. “I can’t stop it.” Was all he said before I felt his essence hit the back of my throat dripping sweetly into my body filling my mouth.

His pointed nose complemented his prominent cheekbones. "And that's Amara Zhane Constantine." I focused my attention on the one and only girl in their group. Unlike me, who has paperwhite skin, she had a burnished complexion. When Alistair spoke, her gleaming, heavenly-white teeth flashed as she smiled. Her pointed nose, red lips, and beautiful brown eyes stood out. Her graceful and elegant actions captivated me. I think I've found another girl crush! "Of course, there is Zeeve Maxim Bullecer."

The house remained overnight, slicing through all clefts with blade-edged, hard bone, light above shadow. Samuel Blackwood had his study, a study redolent with the scent of old leather, cigar smoke, and the iron smell, reminding him of things forgotten. Walls lined with shelves of books, book covers remembered long ago, more trophies than books, bearing witness to a string never sagging, never broken.

"Is that why you have traveled so far, he should have just sent a message across? Seeing how easy that was looking, Jayden decided to add to the already told lie. Actually, the sorcerer says, we need the blood of all the Screamers in the land, mixed together, to perform a ritual, to help him get better, and since the screamer here is the most powerful, we thought of coming here first, and if we are able to get your help, we could get from others ". Tangy smiles, for the first time, Jayden looked happy, for he smiled back, not like she really cares anymore, she just wants to get the entire drama over with, so that she could at least, go back to the love of her life, as a free person, for she

Scar shrugged as if my plea amused him. “It’s not my habit to be merciful." He turned toward the door and walked out without looking back. Scar is a gangster, but Alexander is the Mafia King of Italy, Ireland, and Spain. The man had hands and connections all around the world. Scar stood no chance but he wouldn't listen. So I spat out the blood and prayed all this was over before it was time to pick the kids up. TBC Here's a sneak peek at my new book, currently ongoing in Good novel

Suddenly, the wave of Scrappers moved. They didn't charge like a mob; they flowed like a single, massive shadow. The first rank hit us with the force of a tidal wave. These weren't the "Slivers" from the alleyway; these were men and women I had seen every day in the slums—the vendors, the mechanics, the mothers. But their movements were clinical, high-velocity, and devoid of hesitation. "Don't kill them!" I yelled to Dante as a possessed Scrapper swung a rusted iron pipe at my head.

“Then we’ll see what happens.” “And if she tries to scam you at dinner?” I smiled — a cold thing, sharp as winter frost. “Then I’ll let her. One more time. I want to see how far she’ll go. How well she can lie to my face. I want to see her face.” “You’re enjoying this,” Dmitri observed. I considered the accusation. Actually, in my world, everything was predictable. My enemies moved in expected patterns. My allies played their parts. The business operated smoothly, with violence serving as just another instrument, while women were viewed as either assets or expendable.