Simon Snow Series Novels & Stories

"My lord, when shall we launch our assault on the werewolves? The time is ripe, and our forces are ready." Simon, the enigmatic leader with an air of authority, leaned back in his ornate chair. His eyes glowed with a predatory gleam as he considered the unfolding scenario. "Patience, my loyal followers. We have a new weapon at our disposal, thanks to Joey's ingenious approach. Before we unleash our full might, let us play a game with our unsuspecting adversaries."

Soon the whole area was dark. In the middle of the movie, Luna gets cold. In Simon’s chosen location, she never anticipated it would be so challenging. She was only wearing a shirt and pants, so the air conditioner’s cold broke into her clothes. She turned to Simon, who was seriously watching. He never feels cold. From the movie’s beginning, he doesn’t speak and looks at what he is watching while eating popcorn. ‘Hell, how come he doesn’t feel cold? Why is it so cold? I’m freezing my head off!’ Luna thought.

Thank you so much for reading The Snow Storm! If you would like to find out more about what happens to Owen and the rest of the Williamson family then check out the sequel, Murder Motel. Here is a sneak peak of the book.. Chapter One September 17, 2007 “Am I speaking to a mister Owen Matthews?” “Um, yeah, that would be me.. Can I help you?” He does not recognize the female voice on the other end of the line but he has to admit, it is a beautiful voice. He would know how to spot a lovely voice, considering her heard random voices all day long.

"Together or separately. Any time you want a slut." Simon's prospects for life in college were already looking a million times better, he thought as he stepped out of the shower and began drying himself off. He wondered idly whether Sophie the blonde was still downstairs, and whether she had indeed swapped out her t-shirt for something more revealing. Glancing in the mirror as he wrapped the towel around his waist, Simon saw that there was a healthy, energised look in his face, and his eyes were bright. Fucking, it seemed, was good for him.

Since this is a night of unravelling, could this perhaps be Irina’s father? Simon trembles at the sight of Damian, he starts to ramble nervously. “This isn’t usually my setup. Sergei called me from my abode and swore he knew how to defeat you and I knew it wouldn’t be possible but I wanted to give it a shot just be– Arrgh!” He yells as Damian slides the knife deep into his stomach and holds it there. “You tried to mess with me not once, but twice. I’ll show you what unrepentant rats like you get for trying to overstep boundaries.” And without another word, his arm jerks to the other side. There’s a splash like water, before his intestines tumble out.

The hour was late, but the woman rarely paid attention to the clock. Across from her, Simon sat impeccably dressed, his charcoal suit unwrinkled despite the late hour. His gold-rimmed glasses framed his composed expression, and the subtle glint of his cufflinks caught the lamplight. He looked every bit the polished industry veteran—precise, enigmatic, difficult to read. "Simon," Serena began, her voice low but direct, "Is there something about Whitney you haven’t told me?"

He picked up a black stone, glowing faintly. “This will mask my scent, Steve won't know I am close," he said with a dark smile. Then he picked up a tiny bottle of silver powder looked at it then smiled to himself. “And this will weaken him if he tries to fight.” Simon wasn’t planning to fight, not at first. He wanted Gabby to come with him willingly and agree to be with him, not because he just wanted her, but because they were meant to be together. But if things didn’t go as planned, he had to fight to have her.

Simon wore a simple linen-colored shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black-framed glasses, looking very ordinary, except for a necklace around his neck. Chris could not wait and opened the door. He examined Simon’s necklace closely. It was a black chain with a small silver pendant. Seeing Chris looking, Simon glanced down, touched the pendant, and smiled. “Looks familiar, doesn’t it? Your mother should have one too. The number 0621 is my birthday, and the number on mine…” “…is my mother’s birthday,” said Chris. He stepped aside to let Simon in. Opposite them were the rooms of Collin and Jaden.

It was as if Soren himself was sitting front of me, even when it was just his twin brother. “Sienna.” Simon’s soft voice called me again, breaking me away from my thoughts. “You seem uncomfortable.” “Uh?” I widened my brows and moved away. “No, no. Um, it’s just that the weather’s really hot.” “It’s winter,” he replied, raising an eyebrow at me, a slight smile resting at the edge of his lips. “It’s snowing outside too.” He added, glancing towards the window. I followed his gaze, and indeed, it was snowing.

Her vision was turning red. “Help…” she gasped, barely louder than a whisper. Dylan glanced at her once, his expression unreadable, then slammed the door and drove off into the snow. Zoe lay trembling on the ground, tears streaming down her face as the car vanished into the blizzard. And then—everything went black. * In her haze, Zoe began to dream. She was fifteen again. It was the day of her parents’ funeral. The snow was heavy, blanketing the world in white. She had cried so hard in front of their portraits that she nearly passed out.