The Deep South Book Novels & Stories

Sara sat in the back row of the lecture hall, her legs pressed tightly together under the desk. Professor Kane stood at the front, writing notes on the whiteboard. His deep voice filled the room as he explained the chapter on modern literature. He was tall and fit for a man in his late thirties, with short dark hair that had a little gray at the temples and sharp eyes that seemed to notice everything. Sara could not stop staring at him. She did not know exactly when it started, but lately she had become completely obsessed with her professor.

“Oh my God. He did it!” A deafening roar filled the stadium. The Bandit's had won the super bowl. Elsie watched as the team rushed the field, jumping and celebrating. The entire place buzzed with an energy she hadn't experienced before. It didn't feel real. She had been sure that The Bandits wouldn't have been able to come back from that. But, just like always, Oliver somehow made it happen. She couldn't hold back her emotion and within seconds, Elsie was crying with joy.

I can't understand certain keywords and dates the signs say, hence I picked a simplistic book having an intriguing title: Southerners, the devils. I wasn't sure if this was friendly or not, but who am I kidding? I should expect these types of headings. As I settled down on a wooden table, I picked up the book and barely even turned to the second page when I read: The skies were clear and blue but the day the Southerners arrived, the rain poured red... I sighed. This is long, I presume...

"Well, I'll put your therapist on hold." Twelve hours later – Savannah, Georgia The humidity was the first thing I noticed. California had pampered me. The Southern air clung to my skin like a clingy ex— hot, humid, and unwilling to let go. As the black SUV passed through the Thornwell gates, I kept my eyes fixed ahead. The ride was curved just as it always was. Magnolia trees towered above like ancient, disapproving gods. The house appeared on the horizon. Still monstrous. Still perfect.

The thought of hurting him, betraying his trust, drew him back from the edge, even when it meant shielding him from himself. He exhaled and slowly turned, about to leave the room quietly, when something caught his attention. The ancient book was on the desk, half-covered by a folded shirt. Its pages were yellowed with age and contained the secrets, and history of their kind. Kairos had borrowed the book from Reed's father. Something in Darian's chest tightened as he approached it. The book was closed, with the old ribbon marker tucked between pages toward the last read, and Darian carefully lifted the cover and turned to find the marker. Kairos had been reading about the mate bond.

Genre: Dark Fantasy Billionaire Romance | Explicit | FL: Ruby Senty ML: Rudolph Clarksville Doff – “The Beast King” . . . The first time Ruby Senty saw Rudolph Clarksville Doff, she was barefoot, soaked in forest rain, and trying to escape a man who’d paid for her body.

"That's not a wise thing to do, wrong timing... insensitive." "Chief Onapuruagu and Chief Kaave aren't the only owners of a yacht in Dirty South." With her heartbeat jumping into double time, Georgianna stared at Larissa. "This one belongs to a big shot in Dirty South." "You're really living the life hunie, and you deserve it. Goodbye to trenches, bestie." Hell, she was smiling now. Georgianna hated fretting but couldn't help herself, emptying another glass of wine, she dropped the glass. "That's what you get when your surname ends with Kaave."

Folding it neatly, he dropped it on a stomp he found seated by his left. Taking deep breaths with eyes closed, he folded his hands behind him with a calm and composed demeanour. He opened his eyes, feeling the red flecks come alive in his grey eyes. The red was a part of his eyes that existed as part of the grey, appearing at the border of his black pupils, mixed to give an alluring appearance. The obsidian was just a temporary fixture when his animalistic side was fast surfacing. They were proof of his supernatural existence, the red a constant reminder of what he was.

Sade I felt like I was in a dream. I had come to Lake Tahoe with expectations of having a good time with my friends, doing a little drinking, sunbathing, and maybe some shopping. I had never imagined I would meet a man that checked all the boxes. He was everything a woman could want, and he was interested in me. I must have reminded myself of that at least a hundred times. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t believe it was really happening. It was. It was real. He was very real and sitting a few inches away from me in the backseat of his chauffeured car as we took a scenic way back to the hotel.