Simmering Heat Novels & Stories

Unzipping the heavy canvas, I reached past my textbooks and pulled out Michael's coffee-stained shirt. As I held the white fabric in my hands under the dim light of my bedroom, my mind traitorously drifted back to the classroom. Against my will, the image of Michael standing half-naked right in front of me flashed vividly in my mind. I could still clearly picture the extreme, rigid definition of his six-pack abs, the broad, powerful cut of his shoulders, and the dangerous heat radiating from his sun-kissed skin. He looked like an apex predator, and I had been close enough to feel the warmth of his breath. Even now, standing alone in the dark, the memory made my face flush bright red.

“Any time.” From across the hall Richard spoke at last. “Don’t mistake tricks for loyalty.” His tone was smooth, but the warning underneath was clear. The men glanced between them, awkward. My pulse quickened. By midday the kitchens were chaos. A cook collapsed while tasting the broth, then another doubled over with cramps. Simon hauled them onto benches, barking orders for water and herbs. He grabbed a ladle and stirred the pot, then cursed under his breath. The smell hit me next, briny, metallic. He lifted the ladle and metal shavings gleamed in the salt. “This was deliberate,” he said grimly.

She nagged for a short while before getting up and heading to the kitchen. Looking at the woman entering the kitchen, Simon took the thermometer from under his arm. The temperature it read could not have been any more normal, at an unremarkable 36.4 degrees Celsius. What could he do with such a normal temperature? The man’s gaze shifted on the glass of hot water in front of him. There was a faint light in his eyes as the corner of his mouth curled slightly. “So how was it? Show me the thermometer.” Sharon suddenly remembered that they were in the middle of taking his temperature and hurried out of the kitchen.

"Now we start dear. I am going to manipulate heat. Therefore the temperature in your room is going to rise to an intolerable degree. Now listen Summer, you will have to bring back the room to it's original temperature. If you fail, you'll fry. I'll be increasing it bit by bit. Desire it so much that you'll achieve it." Huh? This wolf. Is this considered as teaching.? I chuckle lightly but my laugh is cut short. If this is just a bit of heat as she says and she'll be increasing then I won't fry. I'll be charred into nothingness!! This is worse.Im getting a heat stroke!!

Hey, Guys, so Heat is finished. I've seen comments and I know y'all are not happy with the ending. I'm sorry for disappointing you guys. Thank you for enjoying my book and supporting it. One specific comment asked for a book 2. Would you guys like that because I'm already getting so many ideas for book 2. Comment ASAP if you guys want a part 2. I don't like my readers unhappy. So comment, comment and I'll make things happen.

Even Zerina went still. "Your eyes," he continued, voice quiet and strained. "They were like fire. Actual flames, trapped in glass. I’d never seen anything like it. And one of them—" he looked at me, his voice breaking a little, "still is." I bolted out of bed, stumbling a little as my legs fought to hold my weight. Zerina gasped. "He’s not lying. I can feel it. The heat. The shift." Simon followed quickly, steadying me as I stumbled toward the bathroom.

I tried to hold back a whimper as a rush of heat overwhelmed me. Why was it so damn hot in here? I leaned back in the seat, trying to hide back another whimper. SOS. - L What’s going on? - S My meds didn’t come. - L Wait, what? Your suppressant? - S YES. - L How long have you been off it? - S This is day two. - L Oh no. Are you feeling anything yet? - S Simone, I feel like I’m sitting in an oven. My skin’s on fire, and I’m sweating through my shirt. - L

The word tastes like steel—cold, hard, necessary. Simon hesitates for half a breath. “Engagement?”