Stranger In The Night Book Novels & Stories

“There’s nothing to tell. It was a random guy in a bookstore. We talked about books. He left. Then I left. End of story.” I hold her gaze for another few seconds, then let go. “Okay.” She looks relieved. Too relieved. “I’m going to shower,” she says again, softer this time. “Go ahead.” I listen to the water run. I finish the whiskey. When she comes back out in one of my T-shirts, hair damp, I don’t bring it up again. We watch something on the television neither of us is actually watching. She curls against my side like everything is normal. I let her. But the image of her smiling up at that stranger stays behind my eyes the entire night. I barely sleep.

When the sun the up? Oh, well. I throw my phone carefully on the blue pillow on the bed. I haven’t read in a bit, so I take one of my favorite books. Though I have read it numerous times, it’s an epic book. I run my finger on the letters on the cover page of the book. The letters reads: THE OUTSIDERS. I sigh satisfyingly and begin my book. In a minute, I’m already lost in the world of ‘Ponyboy Curtis’, the book’s narrator.

I used to be jealous of women whose husbands cheated, at least they were being touched. Mine barely looked at me anymore. Then one night he walked into our penthouse with his mistress beside him and calmly informed me she was pregnant. I wish I could say I handled it with dignity….I didn’t. Instead, I got drunk, disappeared upstairs at a masquerade gala and let a complete stranger drag sounds out of me that even I didn’t know I could make. I never saw his face, but now….he’s everywhere around me, looking at me like that night belongs to him too. And the more my husband tries to pull me back, the more dangerous the stranger becomes.

Chapter 94 (Third Person POV) Damien sat in a dingy diner on the edge of town, the kind of place that smelled of old grease and stale coffee. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a harsh glow on the cracked vinyl booths. He had arrived early, his hands clasped tightly around a cup of black coffee that had gone cold. His heart was pounding. He had never felt this exposed before. Meeting a stranger in the middle of the night, knowing Richard could have eyes everywhere, felt like walking into a trap. But after the conversation with the mysterious caller, he knew he had no other choice.

Chapter 8 Lilith The night was long and hostile. It took several hours to fall asleep. Tossing and turning on the bed, the short conversation between the hot stranger and I kept ringing in my head. I recalled screaming when he sent me the amount of my salary. The night was long and hostile. It took several hours to fall asleep. Tossing and turning on the bed, the short conversation between the hot stranger and I kept ringing in my head. I recalled screaming when he sent me the amount of my salary.

Locating the bathroom, I dashed towards it, once in, I locked the door and sat at the edge of the incredibly white, gigantic tub that could fit minimum of five people- the stranger must be rich then. Switching back on my phone, i searched for the first post and clicked on it only to see myself lick the stranger’s face, albeit it looked a little sexy…arrgh, I knew my crazy thoughts would possess me one day, I just never realized it would be this early, I was still three years away from thirty for God’s sake, I can’t believe I actually licked a stranger’s face and posted it for the world to see. Face palming, I moved on to the next, in this post I was in a jewelry store, I could only hope I di

Ivy doesn't need anyone. She's got three jobs, a sharp tongue, and zero patience for men who think muscle solves everything. Then a bar fight goes wrong, an infuriatingly gorgeous stranger clears her debt, and suddenly she's stuck working for a hockey player who smells like moonlight and looks at her like she's the answer to a question he never asked. She should have known "assistant" was too good to be true. She definitely shouldn't have missed the part where he's a werewolf. Or that she might be one too. Alex has spent three years running from an arranged marriage, an Alpha title he doesn't want, and a fate he can't outskate. The night he finds his fated mate slinging drinks at a dive

My mental was unstable that night because I broke up with Lena and I have to accept shit happens in my life. At 3 AM, a stranger guy comes from the next table, he’s making his way to my spot and watch the game. Vegas was my distraction spot, that place thrilled me, I make out with a cute stripper named, Vanessa. And waste all my time drinking and gambling when I was there. The stranger man who watched me joined the game, he's slide to the hot seat and sat opposite me, giving me a dirty smirk before he played the game.

the stranger said. “Was,” I corrected him. “What do you mean?” the stranger asked. Telling him all I know, the stranger just listens. Once I was done explaining. We stood quietly for a while. Finally, he opened the book and started going through it. No expressions were shown on his face. “Do you have a name?” the stranger asked after a while. “There is one. Before I tell you, at first, there was only one initial. It’s at the end of that book. If you like, you may look at it.” I said.

“You reopen that book, and I’ll paint the city with your blood.” The stranger turned his head slightly, his eyes glowing a faint red. “Then try. But remember…if you spill my blood, you spill hers too.” Camela turned in Vincent's arms, tears streaming down her face and her throat sore. "Don't fight him! If you do…he'll kill what's growing inside me!" Her words cut deeper than the stranger’s. Vincent froze, his rage boiling inside him. The stranger’s smile grew wider. “Do you see? She gets it. The name is not just a name; it is hers. And the ink it was written with…” He turned the book slightly so they could see the faint stains between the charred edges. “…was red.” Blood.