Summer Night Book Novels & Stories

Yet somehow… my mind still drifted toward a stubborn eighteen-year-old girl with pink bandages and reckless eyes. Ava. Even after three days away from her, she still found a way into my thoughts like she belonged there. And that was the real problem. I exhaled sharply and grabbed the whiskey bottle from the table, pouring another glass. Outside, Pasadena glittered beneath the night sky. Beautiful. But inside the hotel suite, I already knew the truth. This summer was becoming dangerous in ways I never expected.

All the peace I had found here was gone the moment he appeared. I sank down into a crouch and covered my ears. “Go away!” After that hysterical shout, John went silent. A cold gust slipped through the window cracks, making me shiver. I did my best to ignore him and finally calmed myself down, I tried to ignore him. However, soon after night fell, a neighbor pounded on my door. “Dr. Summer, there’s a man outside who looks like he’s about to freeze to death. Do you know him?”

“Every summer. Every year. I’m yours.” He kisses the bite marks on my neck, hand stroking the firm dome of my stomach. “Damn right you are, Noah. All mine.” *** The last night of August is thick with heat and cicadas, the kind of humid that makes the sheets stick to skin. The bedroom window is cracked open, moonlight spilling silver across the bed where I lie on my side, belly so round now I can’t see my own cock past it. The stretch marks glow like pale lightning under Levi’s oil-slick fingers as he traces them reverently.

⚠️❗️ Content Warning ❗️⚠️ This book contains mature themes and situations that may not be suitable for all readers. It includes strong language, explicit sexual content, and scenes of intense passion. It also depicts violence, emotional manipulation, and other adult situations that may be disturbing to some readers. Reader discretion is strongly advised. This story is intended for mature audiences only. ---------- "Mmmm..." Summer moaned softly, her body arching in pleasure as Alexander's lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses in her. His hands roamed over her curves, caressing and squeezing her soft flesh.

She also told me how much money she had saved monthly. [Zayn, I’ll keep waiting for you to come back.] I did not go home during the New Year because I was busy. During the summer break of the following year, I went back to my hometown. But Layla was not around. She had gone to Northcall for her postgraduate studies. She had mentioned that in the text she sent me. “Did you get used to living abroad? You’ve lost weight.” Madeline’s eyes teared up as she inquired after me.

gays? I might be making things up, but I wouldn't deny it if they came out holding hands or kissing one another. Summer is breathing softly, her body sweaty when I walked into the room. I start taking off her clothes as she's feeling heat. "Let me just open the windows," I murmur. "Sure, I'm feeling heat. It's too much in here," she says. I don't climb on the bed, only watch her snore softly again, each sound a melody to my ear.

That same rainy night in late April, the whole town of Perkins was deathly silent, save for the overexcited crickets and frogs in the bushes, and perhaps one late night driver or two. The clouds parted to reveal a full moon high in the sky, hanging like a hunter's lantern over the house where Mike Sommers lived with his daughter Lauren. Twelve-year-old Lauren was in her room, reading a book in the warmth and comfort of her bedcovers.

"Yes, the little kid here looks like Summer!" "I read this book last night. The kid in the story is also named Summer," the bespectacled boy nodded. "Guys, look at the author's name! Summer Hills! Hey, Summer, did you write this book?" Summer chuckled. One of her hands rose, scratching her temple. She felt flattered by the excited reactions of her new friends.

This time Summer looked away. She spent the majority of the day in her room doing nothing. Her thoughts meshed into one another like different colours splattered and mixed on a palette— messy and ugly. The elderly couple had gone to work, leaving food and keys. Liam had said to call them if she needed them. Summer wanted to get up, do something productive, but she simply did not have the energy to do anything. She felt tired, yet sleep evaded her. --**--

Overcome with longing, Ethan slowly lifted his hand and lightly brushed his fingers against it. The evening cicadas buzzed through the cemetery when a voice suddenly echoed in his mind. “Your eyes are beautiful.” The figure in the photograph merged with a memory of a little girl falling. Leaning against the cold tombstone, Ethan felt a strange mix of sorrow and calm. “We had crossed paths so early on,” he murmured. Around midnight, a sudden thunderstorm broke out. He held the avalanche roses close, guarding them as if they were me. In his mind, he saw my pale fingers brushing past the flowers. He let out a bitter laugh. The Ethan who had lost his memory was a coward for choosing to run after