Tangled Sun Novels & Stories

I had mastered the art and craft of failing in everything I do. I walked into the library, my body soaked head to toe, water dripping all over the floors of the library, my brown hair looking wet and not organized, I could see him sitting in a corner. When Lucas had described him, he had done him a great injustice, he was way better looking than the mental picture I had of him, he had all black hair, a tattoo-covered body, he wore black short sleeves with black jeans and black boots. He looked like the human version of a perfectly cut handsome robot, his brows were properly arched and his eyes were coffee brown, his hair was curly and his shoulder was broad, as he stood up and approached me,

Lila locked up the cash register and checked her watch. It was almost closing time, and the bookstore was winding down from a busy day. The setting sun cast long shadows through the shop's front windows, bathing the shelves in a warm, golden glow. Marcus was in the back, sorting through the day’s receipts and preparing for the next morning’s inventory. Lila grabbed her coat, gave Marcus a wave, and stepped outside into the crisp evening air.

Gwen's POV Sunday morning was pretty sunny. It was a vibrant morning and it radiated through to the girls' smiles all the time I brushed their hair and helped them into the dresses for the day. The girls clung to me seeming to have what to say at all times. "You look better this morning." Ricky handed me the sunflower he had gotten from who knows where. I stared at the flower and crunched my nose. "I'm not going to receive that." "I thought we were cool?"

Warning: Violent Content ~Tessa~ Tessa sat on the steps of the packhouse watching the harsh morning sun intrude its way through the calm purple glow of the night sky. She was entranced by the way each star disappeared, one by one, while the rising mist dressed the scene in an ominous haze. The beauty of the morning was trying to trick her into thinking the day would be like any other, but Tessa knew its secret. Evil and destruction were rising with the sun.

Elder Max folds the vellum map Sable so kindly dropped and tucks it into his coat. “Sun or shade?” he asks, eyes on us both, like the question is a scale and we’re the weights. Hazel looks at me. Not past me. At me. “Sun,” she says, and doesn’t flinch. Onyx lifts his head. Whatever is left of the doubt between us evaporates like mist under an August noon. “Sun,” I echo, and feel the bond tug like a tide, pain-sweet, dangerous and inevitable. We move.

Spark howled beside her, her voice faint but warm, the sunlight reflecting in her amber eyes, the clearing a sanctuary, the warmth a shared memory. Tess looked at Finn, her hazel eyes glowing with love, her voice steady, the sunlight illuminating her face, the warmth of the clearing a mirror to the heat in her heart, the air thick with their shared legacy, the clearing a sanctuary, their bond a radiant flame. “Protect them, Finn,” she said, her shield pendant catching the sunlight, the sunlight dancing on her face, the clearing a haven, the warmth a shared joy. Dawn howled beside her, her voice faint but clear, the sunlight reflecting in her amber eyes, the clearing a sanctuary, the warmth a

"It feels like the sun is inside my skin. Like I’m part of the flowers." "The sun burns things, Anna," she said, her voice softening as she went back to my hair, though the tension in her shoulders remained. Behind me, I could hear the faint clink-clink of metal. She wasn't just braiding my hair; she was weaving a cage. Between the strands of my blonde hair, she was threading thin, shimmering wires of silver. They were cold, biting into my scalp, acting as a tether for the power I so desperately wanted to let out.

A faint glow touched the eastern sky— barely bright, barely rising. But it was enough. Dawn was minutes away. His muscles tensed. The Pact, old and unbreakable, whispered at the edges of his consciousness: When the sun rises, the girl becomes untouchable. Unclaimable. Unreachable. If any part of him wanted to pretend he didn’t care— The sharp spike of hatred at the thought proved otherwise. The idea of that thin line of sunlight severing the bond still forming between their marks made his breathing turn jagged, his fingers lock more tightly around her.