The Blood Ledger Novels & Stories

Fifteen men died saving my sister Serena from a fire. My mother said Serena’s life had been saved at the cost of fifteen lives. We couldn’t put her through any more pain. But the debt our family owed still had to be paid. So my mother put it in my name. When one of their families needed help with a family event, Mom made me give up my weekend for them. When another family needed my professor’s recommendation, Mom made me give it to them. When a third family needed a kidney, Mom made me give them mine. She always said, “This is a debt we owe them. Serena isn’t strong enough, so you’ll pay it for her.” A month after surgery, I came home for Thanksgiving. Before I could enter the house, Mom for

On the third night after Seraphina Vale—the academy's most envied beauty—took her own life, a blood ledger appeared out of nowhere in the abandoned chapel of St. Ophelia's Academy. Rumor had it that if you left a blood print on it, the ledger would grant your deepest wish. At first, nobody bought such a ridiculous story. Until Vivian Cross—all two hundred and twenty pounds of her—shakily made her choice: beauty. She dropped the weight overnight. Her features turned so delicate people couldn't look away. Just like that, she became the academy's new obsession. After that, no one called the blood ledger bad luck anymore. Dorian Blackwood chose his future, and the

Lucien held the blood key before him. “Open the vault.” Edmund laughed. “You always were too slow to understand which doors should remain closed.” Caelan stepped closer. “You can speak willingly, or Helena can play the voice sample we obtained during your interrogation.” Edmund’s amusement faded. “You think the ledger will save any of you?” “No,” I said. “But it may destroy you.” He looked at me for a long moment. Then he spoke the authorization phrase. “The crown belongs to the hand willing to bleed.”

The ninth time I tried to divorce my husband, Don Louis Romano, my best friend Jenny Parker, who had always talked me out of it, handed me the papers herself. Every time before, she'd done everything in her power to stop me. She'd even taken over the Family's day-to-day affairs just to create chances for us to see each other and reconcile. I took the papers and couldn't help but ask. Years of pent-up exhaustion showed in Jenny's eyes, and to my shock, her voice was edged with resentment. "You got Vivian shot this time. She nearly didn't make it. How long are you going to keep this up?!" Vivian Hale was the woman Louis had been seeing. I stared at her in disbelief. "Vivian's had a hard life.

I should say something. I should tell her I understand or that I’m sorry or literally anything. But the words stick in my throat because all I can think is that my brother did this. My brother is the reason her son is drowning. The reason she’s sitting here in this expensive café, desperate enough to hire a stranger. She opens her bag. Pulls out a thick folder and sets it on the table between us. “This is the contract,” she says. “I want to walk you through it so there are no surprises.”

I apologized. "Sometimes, we refer to breast milk as 'White Blood' because it's from the human body, but only the females," she explained, "It's very fortunate that the breast milk works with your system. You're not physically required blood like other vampires-so it's just a psychological need because you're part of them."

A poem dedicated to “blood and water” by Osuagwu Alexander. MY SIN What actually led me here What have I done Could I have saved him Was I scared or stupid Am writing to free my guilt But reading this script Literally pricks my conscience All I did was watch But I feel my ignorance was a sin And it haunts me daily I’ve always been wary But this blame was mine It was halp past nine On that cold dark night A scene pictographed in me My eyes met him afar

So I grabbed my teddy bear and walked down the stairs. When I came into the kitchen, I didn't saw my daddy and my mommy standing there, arguing and fighting. I just saw my mommy laying on the floor in a puddle of blood. The red liquid was coming out of her belly and flooded around her. Her eyes were wide open and her brown hair had become red of her blood. I whispered her name and grabbed her hand as I knelt next to her. The tears were falling down my cheeks like a waterfall. Her blood was now on my white pajamas. My hands were painted with her blood as I tried to shake her awake.

Lydia. Ethan. Nicholas took my hand. “Absolutely not.” I raised an eyebrow. He sighed. “Your choice.” “Yes.” “Still hate it.” “Allowed.” He looked at Gabriel. “What happens if Henry opens the original Keeper archive?” Gabriel’s face went pale. “He gets the one thing Victor spent his entire life trying to find.” “What?” “The original bloodline ledger.” I frowned. “We already had a registry.” “This is older.” “How old?” “Two hundred and eleven years.”

It has an ornate metal clasp on the front which locks the pages giving the illusion of it being a box. I run my fingers over the clasp and it clicks open. I feel my wolf push to the front of my mind but I'm so engrossed in the book I hardly even notice. I open the cover carefully and look at it. On the inscription page is some writing and a hand drawn picture of a wolf in black ink. I read the inscription out loud. 'Journal of Lycius 1800AD' "Where does it say that?" Hunter says looking over my shoulder.