Spicy Books Like From Blood And Ash Novels & Stories

His white teeth were stained with blood. "How can you joke in this condition?" I smiled at him and bit a chunk of my hand. "Here, feed! It will help trigger and hasten your healing process." I watched him exhale heavily before sinking his fangs into my hand for a minute. Everyone had an ashy face with a print of black smoke from the explosion.

Around midnight she reached the section describing Meher's gradual decline. The whispers. The forest. The growing suspicion. The fear. A knot formed in her stomach. She kept reading. Then came the murder. The rain. The clearing. Meher's final words. I have only loved you. Aisha closed the notebook abruptly. The room felt too warm. For several moments she simply sat there staring at nothing. The tragedy struck harder than she expected. Not because it was real. Because it wasn't. Somehow that made it worse. A fictional murder should not have felt devastating.

she laughed, Twisting the cork she opened the small vessel, sniffing the edge of it, "This smells so... Familiar," "Amber wait—" Al tried to stop her, but it was too late, I could see the liquid staining her lips with a bright red pigment, "It's dragon blood," she snickered, taking another gulp, "It's fucking dragon blood," she laughed merrily, I don't know if I should be disgusted that it's dragon blood or happy that it's not poison, "Try it," she nodded vigorously, handing the flask to me,

maktol ko. She sighed. He took my own cup and spit out a fish ball. "There's more spicy sauce than sweet. It wasn't balanced." I drank water again. The sharpness was just right when Janice and I bought it, ah. Maybe the salesman actually put a lot of chili in his hot sauce! “I don’t want that anymore,” I said. "Let's exchange, then." He gave me his cup. I reached for it once beyond looking towards his friends. Kiara gave me a sharp glare. He turned and walked away, as if disgusted. Bon said goodbye to Rustov and they entered the plaza. I knew it. Kiara likes him. And she was obviously jealous.

, Ashton said. I ignored them and went to check for an interesting book that I could purchase. Jack and Ashton kept on talking and laughing but I didn’t pay them any attention. Jack was funny and I liked that about him. I found a book that seemed nice and pulse-racing, Blood Brothers by Nora Roberts.

I followed my ruined corpse all the way to the mass grave. My limbs were twisted at unnatural angles, my body covered in crisscrossing bruises, my face drained of every drop of color—like a weed that had been stomped flat by a hundred boots. Soon, a pack of mangy stray dogs caught the scent of fresh meat. Their eyes glowed hungry and green in the darkness as they circled in. At first, they just tugged at the edges of my clothes. Then one bolder mutt sank its teeth into my calf and ripped off a chunk of flesh.

I hated that he noticed. He chuckled low. “Good. ’Cause there’s blood coming, brother. You either pick up your cut or get cut out.” I turned to him then, eyes cold. “You ever think maybe blood isn’t the answer?” He leaned in close, voice a whisper meant to sting. “This is the club, Ash. Blood’s always the answer here.” Before I could reply, Griff’s office door slammed open and he stepped out with fire in his eyes and a paper clutched in his hand.

And with that, she started muttering a spell and with increase in the tempo of her spell, Asher started shaking on the chaise longue. Aliyah wanted to hold him but Edward stopped her, the best thing would be to let Hephzibah to do what she does best. In a few short seconds, Asher’s snapped opened and he threw up all over the blanket covering him. There wasn’t much thing he had eaten as everything was slimy with nothing solid and with a very offensive order. Anita covered her nose and forced the vomit in her throat back into her stomach while the warriors and Micah and his people kept a straight face even though they were having it just as bad.

Sienna’s boots crunched on dry pine needles, the shack a fading speck behind them as she and Roman cut deeper into the woods. The truck’s bloody mess was miles back, that scream still ringing in her skull, but the air here was still—too still—thick with the tang of sap and something sharper, like metal or smoke. Her fingers flexed around the vial in her pocket, its cold glass a tether to whatever hell Dorian had left her, and Roman walked ahead, his stride long and sure, gun tucked close, his silence loud enough to grate on her nerves.