Seven Hearts Novels & Stories

Otherwise, I’ll come after you. —None of that, kiddo! I leave the two of them and go to my office. When I arrive, I see a box on top of the desk. When I open it, I get a scare: inside, there’s an animal’s heart, with a note: I’m very close! I close the box quickly and throw it in the trash, feeling a chill run down my spine.

"I am sorry you all had to see me like this." "What was that thing you did bowing to the ground?" One of the new men asked. "Old ritual that most don't do anymore. We do it before eating any hearts of any kind, including candy ones." We held hearts sacred, both ones we eat and the ones we don't. I only ever lost one heart that I held sacred. My mates heart. It was either his heart or the hearts of the innocents he was going to kill. So, I killed him, but these tigers didn't need to know it yet.

Hope’s hand went to her chest. Thump. Again. She looked at the others. “Do you hear that?” Adrian shook his head. “Hear what?” “The heartbeat.” Everyone looked at one another. Seraphina slowly approached. “I hear it.” Hope looked at her. “What is it?” Seraphina’s expression became serious. “The Heart of Creation.” Hope swallowed. “It sounds like a human heart.” “That is because it is.” Hope stared at the chamber. “You said it was alive.” “It is.”

This forest of horror houses death, and when one’s life flashes before their eyes on the brink of the end, one will know that even death may die. A paw steps on the messy ground between the dirt and rotting flesh. There are humanoid bones that the wolf’s forefeet crush to dust. The freezing winds force its black fur to wavier. Saliva drips down on the grassland, melting the nature beneath. The four-legged creature is known as a heat seeker. On the outside of the body, it appears the mammal looks like a black wolf; however, its heads are what stand out. Two woven heads are attached to one linked neck. One of the craniums is a standard wolf head that matches the black coat body. Its teeth are

There’s such a sad love Deep in your eyes a kind of pale jewel Open and closed within your eyes I’ll place the sky Within your eyes There’s such a fooled heart Beatin’ so fast In search of new dreams A love that will last Within your heart I’ll place the moon Within your heart As the pain sweeps through Makes no sense for you Every thrill is gone Wasn’t too much fun at all But I’ll be there for you When the world falls down Falling Falling down Falling in love I’ll paint you mornings of gold

Could he trust her with his heart? XXX

I’m guessing you’ve been here before. Mrs. Boaz looked at him with a guilty demeanor, but that kind of guilt where it seems you’re hiding a big secret. “Says here it was a condition named ‘Arrhythmia’. Irregular beating of the heart apparently. Critical condition too because of your age. 49? Come on, you’re not that old now, are you?” She didn’t have to utter a single word. The look on her face did all the talking. “I think it actually cost about five and a half million if I’m not mistaken. Ryan made one phone call and beep beep, Alerts. Got to say man, that was pretty impressive. Wish I had your type of friends, but oh well.”

“Hearteaters are able to walk and roam the earth while gaining their abilities as Werewolves and Shapeshifters as long as they consume hearts of mortals and werewolves to survive and thrive. Their true forms are wolf-like entities that stand like a man but with ram horns and bat-like hands and arms.” Every word Tyler sent across me made my heart pound, throbbed, beat rapidly as if there’s no tomorrow. “And one thing you can fathom their presence is that once they are around, the sun seems to hide and everything suddenly turns cold. The air is flooded with the scent of death that you can only smell when in front of a decaying corpse.”

One more heart to make them all stronger. Exactly as it should be.

5 G lateral at the top, the blood pooling in the wrong chambers, the arrhythmia that could be triggered by exactly this stress, in exactly this body, his body, Arthie's damaged heart. He had watched Eau Rouge on screens for years, the analysis that was professional interest in extreme physiology, the fascination that was abstract because the drivers were abstract, statistics, probabilities. Now he watched it through the window, the track visible below, the cars that were specks becoming violence becoming beauty, and the speck that was Arthie was specific, particular, the damage that was his to know intimately, to monitor continuously, to fear particularly.