The Ashes Of His Name Novels & Stories

Taking a step forward, I began to go to help, but the beautiful mysterious man halted me. “It’s too late.” His fingers were hot upon my wrist. “What do you mean? You mean…you are here for them?” I stepped back towards him, but I didn’t pull my arm away from his warm grip. “Not all of them, just one. The rest have gone up above. I strictly work below.” “Are you the Grim Reaper?” Tears were building up in my eyes. “My name is Ash and you can say I am the Devil’s right-hand man,” he said. A tear glided down my cheek. Ash reached to my skin and wiped it. “Do I scare you?”

"His name is Asher." Phoenix and Asher. Rising from the ashes. A new beginning born from the destruction of everything I'd once been. My sons. My hope. My reason to keep going. And somewhere, hundreds of miles away, their father had no idea they existed.

It contained every bit of information found on the man who had been daring enough to intrude on Noah's life. His well-known alias was Ash Grey but he sometimes went by the name Johnson Adams. Ash owned a long chain of well-known clubs in Rosewoods and also had numerous underground club operations awarded to his name, most of the luxurious clubs scattered in different towns around New York and other thriving parts of the world.

he said as he waved to Reggie the bartender, “I’m never desperate. Now, are you going to tell me your name at least? Or will I have to make one up for you?” “Oh dear, what names do you have in mind?” He ordered his usual—a whiskey sour—and turned back to her. “I’m thinking Delilah. Or Jezebel.” “Subtle. How Biblical of you, too.” She pushed her hair over her shoulder, exposing the pale and delectable curve of her neck. “What if I said it was Gertrude?” “Then I’d call you Gertrude like the gentleman I am.” Her lips curved into a smile. Ash had been with many women, but there was something about this one that had intrigued him the moment he’d seen her staring at him.

She was totally addicted, totally surrendered, totally his. The addiction had a name: Ashan. The End.

He describes it briefly, gardens, a lake, the particular quality of morning light he remembers from the one time he was there three years ago. I say yes to that too. The date we choose is six months away. Far enough to plan. Close enough to feel real. “One thing,” I say. He waits. “The name.” I look at the ring. “I’m keeping Voss professionally. Morrison Manufacturing. The foundation. All of it runs under my father’s name.” “I know,” he says. “But personally—” I pause. “Personally I want to be Esmeralda Hale.” He looks at me. “Both,” he says. “Both names. Both women.”

He seems nervous, as he regards me, his hands trembling ever so slightly. "You're in the immortal lands, in my home. My name is Aspen, Alpha Asher's brother," he explains. I'm shocked into silence for a long second. From what I remember about Alpha Asher, he has the same cut jawline and sloping cheekbones. There eyes are marginally different; as is their hair. Aspen's hair is slightly less disheveled and a soft, wood brown. "Immortal lands," I say slowly, giving my mind time to process that. "Are you immortal?"

Sadness. I glanced down at the letter still clutched in my hand, the paper fragile and crumpled from my grip. Slowly, I allowed a sliver of lightning to dance along its edges, watching as the parchment caught fire. The flames consumed the letter quickly, reducing it to ash in seconds, and I let the remains fall to the table in a blackened heap. Ashes. Just like everything else in this cursed palace. I stormed out of the throne room, my footsteps heavy and my thoughts darker than the night itself. The halls were quiet, too quiet, and every echo of my boots against the stone reminded me of how alone I truly was about to become.

She finds herself in a moral bind concerning forgiveness, retaliation, and the brittleness of trust. Zara and Kael must destroy the weapon in a final, adrenaline-pumping battle before it ends up in the wrong hands. However, Kael gives up his claim to authority in the process, preferring anonymity to a throne that would bind him to the past indefinitely. After the adventure and the love she discovered amidst the ashes of a broken world, Zara returns to the barren ruins irrevocably altered. In a backdrop of destruction, Echoes in the Ashes narrates a story of love, survival, and redemption. It examines the effects of authority, the difficulties of forgiving, and the belief that love may illumi

“How possible?” “Your plan will never work, Aspa, not while I am still here.” Naomi said as she approached the kneeling Asher who was still shimmering in pain of being burnt. “Darkness, look at me,” she commanded and Asher looked up. His eyes were still black and black lines still covered his face. “You have caused enough havoc. It is time to return this body to the real owner.”