Stealing Thunder Book Novels & Stories

I have told the landlady that most of my things will be transferred there by my friends since my tour is still ongoing. Thanks to Emalia and Divina for doing the work for me, I owe them a treat when I returned from my booking. I suddenly felt the urge to sleep as the series of yawn visits me. But when I rose to move into my bed, my arm unmindfully thumps into the transparent box. My eyes grew wide in terror seeing the glass shatter in pieces as it kisses the floor, leaving the two red dice be exposed along with the broken glass pieces. But what frightens me more is the sudden thunder outside. It roared the same time when the glass shattered into pieces. The night sky was too starry and even

Why the book of Ancient spells existed. Thunder struck the slab and I jerked back hard. Someone screamed my name. Volkava was using thunder to get me away from the book. I looked at Draven and in an instant, he got off his knees and sank his fangs in the crook of neck. Volkava yelled and grabbed Draven’s hair. Using that opening, I grabbed the book and the moment my hands touched it—everything flooded in. Knowledge. Truth. Immense power. Volkava knocked Draven off by stabbing him in his left rib.

Sweat dripped from her forehead, and Qing Yue shakily raised a trembling hand to soothe her throbbing temples. "It was a nightmare. Just another nightmare." She whispered the words, clutching onto them like a lifeline as her heart drummed in her ears. "Nothing more than a nightmare." Unfortunately, the words sounded unconvincing even to her own ears. Looking to the side, she saw that it was only 1 in the morning. She still had 5 more hours to go before morning descended. Because of the advanced weapons used in the Great War, the climate of both the Old World Formation and the New World Formation had changed drastically. One of these changes in the New World Formation was the enshrouding dark

I looked at Freya with wide eyes and then looked at the book again. I can’t remember any of us ever sitting here … If we did … I didn’t want to stick my hand into the compartment. Knowing the old ancient, he probably boobytrapped the damn thing! Besides, I had my hands full with Freya … I rolled my eyes realizing I was making excuses and there wasn’t even anybody around to hear them! Softly laying Freya down in my coffin, I decided to pull out the book. I was right. It was a very ancient book and I shivered as I ran my fingers over the first page, realizing it was actually made out of skin! All of this suddenly made so much sense! Of course, the ancient would have a hidden horror book in his

The storm didn't just break; it unleashed. Lightning fractured the sky over the Silver Mountains, casting the jagged peaks in a strobe-light of violent violet. For Lyra, the thunder was a mercy. It drowned out the sound of her own ragged breathing as she stumbled through the undergrowth, her thin shoes instantly ruined by the clutching mud.

Boom! The thunder struck the black stone stele in the blink of an eye. The stone stele absorbed the massive electricity. Bowen and Veron were not hurt. They exchanged glances, both thrilled and pleased with the outcome. The stone stele began to sparkle brightly after absorbing the thunder's electricity. Subsequently, the land trembled more vigorously like it was an earthquake. Bowen and Veron could not stand still and fell to the ground. With the rumbling cloud, another thunder struck down like it would tear the land apart.

My heart thundered with the thrill of it. And then— A flash split the sky. Lightning seared across the horizon, blinding for a fraction of a second. A sharp crack of thunder followed, so loud it rattled through my chest and nearly had me leaping out of my skin. Almost instantly, the sun vanished behind a blanket of dark clouds, and the sky opened up. Sheets of rain poured from the heavens, heavy and relentless, drenching my fur in seconds. It was like the Moon Goddess herself was weeping, her grief soaking the earth.

Thunder smacked the roof like someone owed it money. I didn’t fear storms. Storms feared me. But they did something weird to people. They made the air heavy. They made the silence ring. They made people feel things they shouldn’t feel. And Elara… She wasn’t exactly the type to cuddle up with a book and pretend everything was fine. I could almost feel her restlessness vibrating through the walls. Then— BOOM! A thunder crack so loud the house shivered. A second later… Soft footsteps. I turned.

Silence had already settled on the other side. Seconds turned to minutes, and a man's voice drifted in. Gripping an old, rusty pickaxe, I braced myself for a life-or-death struggle as soon as that door swung open. Moonlight trickled in, and I took my chance, swinging hard at the sliver of an opening. However, there was no cry of surprise. Instead, it was like the pickaxe was caught in a vice. I could not yank it free. I ditched the pickaxe, looking for anything else to use, but in my frenzy, I stumbled and ended up on the floor.

I took the locket; its cool weight and fine craftsmanship spoke of generations. He tried to speak, his eyes desperate, but could only stammer. I leaned in close, reading the frantic plea in his gaze. "Dad, you want me to say it, don't you? That you'll get better soon?" I examined the locket in my palm. "Don't worry. Now that I have something of yours, I'll be kind." I tucked the blanket neatly around him and whispered into his ear, "Don't worry. You will get better." When his expression brightened with a flicker of hope, I added, my tone dropping to a calm, chilling murmur, "I know your secret. I know how you borrow luck."