Solangelo Book Moments Novels & Stories

The roars of the Celestial Trinity filled my head, their worship of him reminding me anew the gulf between us. Solana was pacing the room, with her dreadlocks neatly tied back and golden eyes shadowed from the day’s work. She had shaken into simple linens, but her aura still crackled faintly, a memento of the alpha fire that had almost burned her completely from this place. “He may not be back so quickly,” she said, pausing by the window, peering into the ink-black woods. “The Trinity … they have rituals, meet-ups. He might not get back until dawn.”

Smirk sharp as shattered crystal. “Didn’t I give you one just as grand last week? What’s there to envy?” His fingers tightened on her waist, backing her against the wrought-iron pergola draped in jasmine. “Play your part. Don’t slip around Lena. Everything she has? You’ll have it too.” Now I remember. Five nights ago, crimson meteors streaked across New York’s southern skyline, a blood-magic spectacle. He’d texted: “Clan emergency. Working late.”

The December harbour of Begur, doing what it has always done. This is also what fifty years looks like from the inside: two people on a wall in December, looking at the sea, not needing to say the rest because the rest is already said in the thirty-seven years of notebooks and the four books and the practice and the foundation and the children and the Thursday dinners and the Tuesday mornings and the coffee precisely timed. All of it is present in this specific December morning. The solera. Every year inside the current moment. She is seventy years old and she is also twenty and thirty and forty and fifty — all of those people are inside the person on the wall — and the person on the wall is

The thought of giving the flame exactly what it wants , makes the butterflies in her fly much more chaotic than before. Then…she enters the flame. It hurts much more than she had imagined it would , but does she love it? Yes, she does. She feeds of the exotic emotions she feels while the fire eats at her wings. She relishes the exotic emotions – the frisson – she feels when the fire takes controls of her lowly life. This excitement – it makes her life less boring , less dull. It brightens up her dull existence , with a life span that ends quickly. So with every passing second , she tries to memorize this feeling. She tries to capture this moment in her head , so that she may revisit it whene

Travis; his Religious Studies lecturer, that had sent the letter to him but one thing was certain; He was going to face the devil in two weeks. I JUST WANT TO MAKE IT CLEAR HERE THAT THE ‘MACROCOSMIC ORDER’ IS A WORK OF FICTION; JUST LIKE OTHER PARTS OF THIS BOOK. IF OUT OF CURIOSITY YOU GO TO GOOGLE TO SEARCH FOR IT, YOU'LL DEFINITELY FIND SOMETHING DIFFERENT. With Love, Stephen. ❤️

There was also the fact that Alfred wasn’t the only one whose body felt as if it would explode if it didn’t get relief soon and she sensed the same was happening to Martin. The odd taste of the suspicious pizza still lingered on Martin as his tongue explored the cavity of her mouth in such a sensual way that she felt as if she’d entered a surreal world of erotic promiscuity. Her head grew light as the world became more dreamlike while her lover kissed her long and hard; sliding her shirt high enough to expose her abundant, tethered breasts.

“I don’t like violence, Tom. I’m a businessman. Blood is a big expense.” ~ Sollozzo JORDAN POV The evening was pleasant, with the fresh scent of a live city and blinding lights. Few clouds hung from the sky staring down at the world like they were watchers of humanity. The air was dense, and humidity painted small vapor droplets on the windows. Everything was pleasant, everything but the LA night traffic which was a colossal pain in the ass, and every second we wasted traipsing in a convoy made me want to lose my mind.. Melody's presence was a heavy entity dominating my resolutions by my side, and her thoughts were so fuckin' loud I couldn't focus on anything but everything that turmoiled in

The city sky had grown dark to a mellow gray, the kind that swathed everything in gentleness—buildings, trees, people. Rain still lingered in the air, shrouding the windows of **Chapter & Soul** in a soft mist. Inside, the world progressed more slowly, more softly. It was perfumed with old books, chamomile tea, and something sweet that Lena had baked and not labeled.

DEDICATION: I dedicate this chapter to 'Mhiz Grace Pretty' for dropping two gems on my book this month. You are amazing 😘 Elliot's POV The book was magnificent. Just as I imagined. Once I reached home I had already prepared myself to open it but I had to savour the moment of having the first magic book in the world.

*** Solana *** It was Monday morning, and Solana half-dread seeing Mark. That weekend was the longest for her. She spent every moment waiting for a knock on her door or to run into Mark in the hall again. That was after the nervousness had passed. But there was nothing like that. He also didn't call her phone again that Saturday, and at first Solana appreciated the space because she was a little unsure and extremely anxious about what he'd say. On Sunday, she expected to see him. To have him knock on her door.