Novel & Cerita The Hollows Book Series In Order

Oblivion took hold of me, and a chamber of ice encased my swollen heart. ** The story continues in Book 2: The Bloodstone Vampire. Out December 1st 2020. Thank you for reading SRWW – I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have!**

"So, how soon can we get everyone organized?" "A few days." Elias shrugged. "I'd like to hit Nightshade in waves. We'll attack with the wolves first, and then the witches, and then the vampires will come in." A broad grin spread across his face. "They won't know what hit them." Eve nodded, reaching over and giving Elias's hand a gentle squeeze. "Sounds like a good plan." Elias smiled but casually pulled his hand away. My inner wolf was ready to tear out her throat. We spent the rest of the afternoon planning until it was dinner time.

“Of the White Coven. I have lived for over 3,000 years, and I have been with this coven for 800 of them.” “Why am I here?” “Vampire covens and races are always at war. They are very territorial. Unfortunately, you stumbled right into the middle of it.” “What do you mean?” she asked. “How?” He looked at her, confused. “Don’t you remember?” She stared back, blankly. “Your kill. It ignited all of this.” “Kill?” He slowly shook his head. “So, you don’t remember. Typical. First kills are always that way.” He looked her in the eye. “You killed someone last night. A human. You fed on him. In Carnegie Hall.”

“You vowed that no matter what, you would go on. I told you it would not be easy. I told you something would be taken away from you. But you made a promise. And now it is time for you to fulfill your promise.” Aiden took two steps forward, reached up on the iron knocker, and slammed it twice. Then he stood to the side, as the sound echoed throughout the empty courtyard. Finally, the ancient door slowly opened. Standing there, staring back, were a dozen vampires, all old men, with long white beards, and all dressed in white. They nodded at Aiden, who nodded back. Then they parted ways, and gestured for Caitlin and Caleb to follow. It took all of Caitlin’s will to force herself to take the fir

***TRIGGER WARNING: Up until now, this story has been fairly tame. From this point forward, Wolfblood takes a dark turn. For those who read the first book of the series, Wolfbane, this book is much darker and deals with more serious, real-world issues. If you prefer light-hearted romances without violence, I advise you not to continue. If, however, you enjoy thrilling werewolf romance novels, please continue with Wolfblood! I promise it's worth the ride.***

And as I fall, tail limp, blood spiraling upward in threads that will be gone before anyone at the surface can notice them, every bright hue in my scales beginning, very slowly, to drain, the Hollow begins to drink me. The pink goes first. And then, somewhere very far below me in the black, something much ol der than pink begins, patiently, to wait.

Release. "Morwen," Clara said, rising from the bench. "Something is happening." Morwen stood beside her, her hand on the knife at her belt. Her crimson eyes scanned the garden, the walls, the white flower. "The Hollow's collapse isn't finished. It's entering a new phase." Seren woke with a gasp, sitting up so quickly that her notebook tumbled from her lap. "The residue—it's back. Not the Hollow's residue. Something else. Something alive."

And then, without warning, a whisper—soft as the wind but unmistakable. “I’ve been waiting for you.” Eve’s breath hitched. A figure stepped forward from the shadows, her red eyes glowing like embers in the darkness. The hunt was over. The game had just begun. Eve’s heart pounded as she stepped deeper into the forest, every shadow twisting around her like unseen hands waiting to drag her under. Luca and Damien flanked her, their presence solid, but even their strength couldn’t quell the overwhelming sense of wrongness in the air. The deeper they moved, the colder it became. The wind carried whispers—not words, but something ancient and hungry, curling around her skin like unseen tendrils.

And I would fight for that hope with every breath. The fire’s orange glow flickered over the faces of my packmates, their expressions tight with worry as the night deepened around us. Even Silas, ever the calm sentinel, carried a shadow behind his eyes—a weight none of us could ignore. We had returned from Frostwillow bloodied and haunted, but with knowledge we couldn’t unlearn. The cursed wolves were not simply animals twisted by darkness; they were driven by something far more malevolent, something ancient. I lay on the rough blankets in my tent, the ache of exhaustion pulling at my limbs. But beneath the familiar pain of bruises and fatigue, there was a new sensation—a subtle fluttering d