Storm King Book Novels & Stories

As their encounter ignites a flame that neither can extinguish, they both realize that the storm outside was nothing compared to the fire they’ve just unleashed within themselves. Marcel’s P.O.V. The rain pounded against the windows of the book store violently, the kind of storm that drowned the city in silver sheets and made the world outside feel distant, insignificant. The shop was empty, save for the scent of old paper and ink swirling in the warm air. And her.

He leaned closer until I could smell the stale cigarettes on his breath. “You’re only delaying the inevitable.” Every breath hurt. My sides burned. My stomach felt like it was on fire. The cool air stung against my exposed skin where my torn shirt barely covered me, but I refused to cry. I refused to beg. Slick grabbed my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. “Where is it?” he snarled. “You think you’re some kind of hero?” He laughed. “There are no heroes in this game.” His fingers dug painfully into my jaw.

COPYRIGHT All rights reserved. No part of this book can be stored on a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by whatever means without the prior permission in writing of the person holding the copyright. No part of this material may be reproduced in any country by any process, electronic or otherwise, in any material form or transmitted to any other person or stored electronically in any form without the prior written permission of Shaeleigh Wolf. Storm

Watch out for “Striking Blow.” (Strike Zone Book #2) This is Pearl and Antonio’s story. Filled with international intrigue and subterfuge. Striking Blow Colombo. Sri Lanka. Pearl needed directions—a map—a freaking GPS back to herself. Finding her worth again meant starting with a physical transformation. For starters, the blonde princess staring back at her in the mirror wasn’t real, and it was time to pack “socialite barbie” away in a dark drawer; time to step away from the two-hundred-dollar haircut and her designer lifestyle.

Henna will be mad if she has to buy me new books already. This stupid shade over my head is doing less to nothing to protect me from the rain. It's started to get really cold now. The wind is blowing ghastly almost, it seems like it must be storming in some places. Glad it's not happening here. I wouldn't like the idea of getting washed away from the earth with the harsh wind as much as Gabriel would like that. I have to admit though, I really like storms, I don't know why but It gives me inner peace, makes me all giddy for some unknown reason.

Storm sat on his knees and pulled my legs up around him, fucking me even deeper. I moved one hand to my core and the other to my breasts, and the way Storm looked at me drove me fucking insane. It was like he wanted to devour me, and I couldn’t think. All I felt was this insane feeling of ecstasy as I started to shudder from my orgasm. This was so much more intense than the orgasms I had before, which were pretty fucking good already.

'No, no, it's just the storm," she chided herself. Why was she worrying so much about an elflord she barely knew? A flash of lightning and an accompanying roll of angry thunder brought a fresh new wind rolling over the palace. It made Niamh uneasy and she turned back to the fireplace. "What would you like to read, my Queen?" Moidrin asked. Niamh paused, "Bring me a book on the history of the Elven Kings." Maeval raised an eyebrow, but nodded and set off to find such a book. Moidrin brought soft slippers for Niamh's feet and a blanket for her lap.

*"But you clung to *meat*." Eden's hand finds mine. His blood is cold. "Don't... listen..." The girl sighs. *"Tiresome."* She flicks her wrist, and Eden's ribs *crack*. Something snaps. The storm isn't dead-it's been *sleeping*. It wakes. --- **The Storm's Answer** Lightning erupts, not from the sky, but from the Silence itself. The static in me harmonizes with it, a dissonant shriek that makes the girl recoil.

Eighteen Years Ago The Shadow Pack burned that night; the storm came first, then came the lightning. It split the sky in two; thunder shook the very foundation of the pack, like the growl of a vengeful god. The rain lashed out, falling heavily, but it didn't quench the fire swallowing the packhouse whole. The flames devoured the Alpha's mansion and everything that stood in their way. Hidden in the hollow oak tree is a child with jet-black hair clutching a leather-bound book to her chest.

The first true winter storm arrived with a roar, hurling rain against the windows and turning the Tidewater Trail into a wind-lashed no-man's land. Inside, the world felt small, safe, and deeply ours. A fire crackled in the hearth, Hank's painting glowed in its light, and Eleanor's paperweight sat solidly on the desk, holding down the first batch of congratulatory cards for my book.