The Hollow Book Jessica Verday Novels & Stories

Gamma Alex explains. “Damn it,” she sighs, punching the steering wheel. * Later in the afternoon Athena P.O.V “I think I found something,” Jess says, and leans across the table to give me the book she’s reading. I look over the page, not really understanding what I’m looking at. “Is this for the Crescent Warriors, or for Cassia?” I ask. “Oh, I’ve already worked out how to break Cassia’s spell. We just need to choose the right time to do it,” Jess explains.

I blurted, “just has magic.” “What’s it like?” “Horrible.” “But.” Emma started. I shot her a look as Eddy barged in, “Hey Val morning Emma!” He said cheerfully as he strolled right in and draped himself on a chair. “Morning.” I replied looking at my feet. “So.. What. What would you like to do?” Eddy asked his arms crossed expectantly. “What do you mean?” “Justin has been tasked with something else for the morning.” Eddy rolled his eyes, “he gets the cheery job of fixing the mess that Eric has made with the wraiths.

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"I have to think about it. It has definitely been a revenue booster but I don't want to necessarily be associated with it." "You could always market it as fiction," the vampire from the couple I was watching earlier interrupted. His female mate rolled her eyes and pushed his shoulder. "Hollow, mind your own business," she chastised and he leaned over and kissed her temple. "It's not a bad idea actually," I said, jokingly stroking my chin. Janus nodded. "See? I was just helping," Hollow said putting several books up on the counter. "Please ignore him. He thinks he's clever." The girl was pretty with wavy auburn hair and fair skin. Her green eyes were bright and she had freckles sprinkled acro

Stealing of my work/any idea or portion of the book may result to severe punishment to whoever who plagiarizes as it is a serious crime and won't be excused. This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coicidental. _____ My life was almost empty with negligent parents and a brother who was behaving weird lately and hiding secrets. And when Ethan Jones, the son of the school's principal and the bully entered my life, it just turned miserable. Bearing his love mode was pathetic.

Lewis always had funny stories up his sleeves, and god knows I need a good laugh from time to time. "Oh, a whole lot of nothing. Things have been so boring these past couple of weeks. But I did hear a piece of funny news the other day," Lewis said. "Oh? Do tell," I urge him to go on. "Have you heard what Mary Holloway's daughter Jessica did?" Lewis asked me. I narrow my eyes and try to remember who Mary Holloway was. "Who the hell is Mary Holloway?" I finally asked when I couldn't remember a thing. I meet so many people at parties and business meetings. It is quite hard to keep up sometimes.

She came here from the city she will not name — the city she left because of a man who never said stay — and the Hollowing was already here and they reached an arrangement and she built her tea house on top of that arrangement and she has been keeping records for forty years, and I thought she was keeping them for me, and she is, but she has also been keeping them for it. "Delara," I say. "Tell me what you know. All of it." The layered voice speaks. And what it says rearranges everything. --- The Hollowing's origin is not what I assumed. I assumed displaced — I assumed something that had wandered into a wrong space and grown comfortable. That is not the story. The story, delivered through De

Night had approached. The loudness of the day had finally vanished, all that was left was silence. The air was calm. It's roaring had faded. For the witches and every creature that creeped in the town of Lakewood, it was exciting. Because in the night, that is where their evil deeds were hidden. That is where the darkness gained it's strength and made the innocent souls to tremble. For Jessica Winslow, it was the opportunity to be naughty with magic. Jess

But none of them are what I need. Exhaustion stretches its fingers through me. I rub my eyes, dragging my palms over my face. I haven’t slept since before the claiming, and even then, it was more surrender than rest. But I can’t stop. Not yet. Not until I find something that will help Khael. My hand grazes another book tucked behind the larger volumes. It’s thin. Bound in dark blue fabric. No title. I slide it free. The first page contains only a title: The Curse of Hucow Hollow.

Instead, it folds itself into a corner near the fire, curling up like an animal seeking warmth, as if it is as weary as any of us. The hours crawl. Some try to sleep, but most sit up, tense, clutching talismans or one another’s hands. Mara prowls the edges of the hall, her gaze fixed on the revenant. I sit with Ffion, our shoulders touching, our magics twining and trembling. We ask our questions—careful, cautious, afraid of what the answers might cost. “What is the Hollowing?” Bram asks, voice barely above a whisper. The revenant’s eyes burn in the dark. “It is what comes when too many bargains go unpaid. When pain and hunger are ignored, when stories are broken, when communities shatter. I