Stirred Not Shaken Book Novels & Stories

His head shakes as he begins writing, feeling tears fall. His hand moves, ripping the paper out, scrunching it up he throws it on the table his hand writing it again. His hand picks up the glass, and his eyes, staring at the whiskey, his head shaking as he silently screams and places it down. His hand shakes as he cries, grasping his head.

After the war between humans and shifters, an alliance was formed to keep the peace. The price? Daughters of the human nobility had to choose a shifter as their mate. The first half-blood born from this union would become the new ruler, ensuring that peace would last. As the eldest daughter of the Morrison family, I was the first to be chosen. But right after I chose the wolf Alpha, Calvin, I saw a vision on our engagement day. Because I failed to conceive after six months, Calvin locked me in a cage, determined to use me as a vessel for his pure bloodline. After I finally gave birth to the prophesied hybrid, my sister, Trina, appeared, claiming she wanted to take care of me. But the truth

I smirked, shaking my head as I randomly picked a book from the shelf and gave it to her. She chuckled softly as she read the title. “Think, Fast and Slow. Really, Sky?” She studied the cover and flickered her eyes on me. “You haven’t read this yet.” “I did, once,” I answered. “It’s a good book.” She scanned the pages, reading them as if she was some kind of computer. After a few pages, she looked up and took a deep breath. “I’m keeping this,” She placed the book on the table. “I’m done thinking. Now, let’s do it fast.”

It took her a while before she finally realized he was actually staring at the book. Fear overwhelmed her. The way he stared at the book made her shake. The bold inscriptions on the book could sell her out. Ghista was written on it. No wonder there was a wrapping paper kept close to it, but she chose to ignore it and read the book without it since nobody knew anything about Ghista. With the look he had on, something was definitely computing in his mind.

He shrugged, his own concentration stuck on the book. He was curious as well as I was. Finally, I gave the book a long scrutinizing look, turning it this way and that all the while buying Neilla time. It was a book alright, one without a way to view its content. It had a vial like structure fixed into the hard cover on the front. In that vial was blood slushing as I moved the book about. It was off-putting in every way including the foul odor emanating from it. I flicked at the cover with my middle finger, raising my eyes in surprise when Sapphira flinched.

I stopped looking at him and swiped my finger across my phone screen. “I know words alone mean nothing.” I opened an order record on a shopping app. “This is something I bought—food spoilage test strips.” I took a small sealed packet from my pocket and tore it open in front of everyone. Under the stunned gazes of the room, I slid the thin strip deep into the grayish sponge cake. The white tip of the strip changed color at a visible speed, turning a dark, nearly ink-black shade. “I-it turned black!” “Th-this… can you still eat that?”

I have to shift. The thought sends a ripple of unease through me. When was the last time I shifted? The memory is so distant it feels like it belongs to someone else. My fingers tremble as I strain to shove the heavy book back onto the shelf. The wood creaks under its weight, the sound breaking the oppressive silence.

It stung even worse because I knew it wasn't just a physical ache; it was something deeper. "Okay...um?" I didn't know what to say. I was stuttering, I couldn't believe that I was fucking stuttering She shook her head before she continued, the frown lines on her forehead deepening “This isn't a good book, it lacks suspense. Look how messy it is!” her eyes scanned over the cover of the book critically. “I slept off” I deadpanned sheepishly. “What?” “I couldn't come back last night, I slept off” I repeated myself.

"He's talked about you. Sorry for the trouble. Oh, he made my favorite baked shrimp—come sit with us." She stood, surrendering the seat across from Vincent and sliding in beside him like she never left. Serena had thought this was just Vincent stuck in the past. Now she saw it—birds of a feather. "You two enjoy. I'm wiped. Going to bed." She turned toward the bedroom—then stopped cold at what was behind the door.

It was Damian Knight’s voice when he said, “You belong to me.” Because a part of her believed him. And a darker part didn’t want to argue. She stood restlessly and wandered the room. Her fingers trailed along the bookshelves. Most were hardbound. Thick, glossy, untouched. Titles like Power & Play, Behavioral Strategy, and Psychology of Loyalty. One book was crooked. She tilted her head. It was the only one not aligned with the rest. She reached out. Pulled it. Nothing happened. No secret door. No dramatic reveal.