The Keeper Of Lost Things Novels & Stories

“Seek the Keeper of Ashes beneath the clocktower. Trust only what burns.” She traced the faded letters with a fingertip. The phrase had the flavor of poetry, but the weight of something darker. The “Keeper of Ashes”—was it a title, a metaphor, or someone real? Isabelle closed the sketchbook gently and placed it on her writing desk, beside the ornate key Alexander had given her. The metal was warm from her palm, almost unnaturally so. Its teeth were carved like flames, its handle shaped into a circle of thorns. Not a key made for a door, she thought—but perhaps for something older. Or sacred.

What if she didn't want me anymore? I woke up the next morning to find her already gone, and I felt my heart sink further. I then opened the door to see that shameless beastman sniffing all over her. What an idiot. He didn't even notice me behind him. No wonder he was getting sold. Then I ended up accidentally breaking a fork. Mr. and Mrs. Manfred didn't look too pleased. Perhaps they'd already imagined me snapping Layla the same way? Oh dear. … Those two idiots have been getting on my nerves lately. I wanted them to get lost.

Then, trying to not cry, I don the heavy bronze helmet; a little snug on my head. At least it is not too big. I walk away from Adrexa and head to the front door. I glance at everything around me one more time because I know this palace and the city will be destroyed by the Greeks and nothing will bring back the beauty and splendor of Troy again. I return my focus to my mission when I step into the foyer and open the enormous, ornate wooden double door. I need to find Braxius and then get the fuck out of here before all hell really breaks loose!

"You dropped something very important." "Huh?? What is it?" "Your heart, bro. You dropped your heart!!" Then he turned around and walked outside the building laughing so hard. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I can see hearts everywhere brother. It's good to be in love!" I just shook my head at my brother’s antics and followed them, but before that I stopped by at the entrance to talk to the guards. “You heard Mr. Williams right? From now on Miss Hannah Reed is banned from entering this building.”

She slowly reached into her pocket. The sparrow ring. The one Richard had hidden beneath his bed. Almost without thinking, she pressed it against the center of the lock. A soft click echoed through the chamber. The gate swung open. Richard stepped out. He looked at Amelia with pride. “Now you understand.” She frowned. “Understand what?” “The Keeper was never meant to inherit power.” Richard placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “The Keeper exists…” “…to make sure no one else ever does.” Before Amelia could respond, every light in the chamber suddenly flashed bright white.

“Tiffany. I like that. How old are you, Tiffany?” “Old enough to handle that big toy of yours.” She cut her eyes at him, flipped her hair back, and inserted the keys into a pair of locks high on the wall. His eyes roamed to her breasts then to the back of her skirt as she reached up with both hands, turned the keys together, and withdrew a large safety deposit box from its vault. “Hey, this is heavy,” she groaned. “What’ve you got in here? Gold bars?” He smiled in spite of the pain that shot up his left arm when the box pressed against an open wound under his sleeve. “Take your time, Mr. McGillikin. Just let me know when you’re finished. And if you ever need anyone to crew with you, just giv

I say, my voice not much more than a husky whisper, laced with a sense of impending dread. The Keeper manifests from the fog as though woven from it. His eyes are like the night sky on the clearest of nights—limitless and deep. “Ah, Reyna, child of complexity, you stand at the threshold of choice, do you not?” “Yes,” I confess, my eyes reluctantly leaving the tiny sprouts. “Much has happened since we last spoke. I’ve come to seek your counsel, but I can’t shake the feeling that the lock and key you speak of are slipping through my fingers.”

The words of the guy he killed earlier echoed in his head at that time that he would never have Nina and this angered him more as it grew his obsession with the girl even more. "I can not have Nina Walker. Who the hell is she? Is she some kind of God that a sinister can't have or is she a ghost that a human can't have? She is a mere girl, not mere, she is special because she is meant to be mine. And if Lucian Frederick wants something, he makes sure that he bloody gets it. So Nina Walker, be ready to spend your entire life with the man of your life," he scoffed and then turned off the shower and walked out of the washroom. A week passed by,

They don't seem to take me responding to them very well. Soon she comes back with a little device that she holds over the lump. It beeps and she looks at the lcd screen. "Hmm, reader error. Weird." She seems at a loss for what to do next. Honestly? Same. "Maybe if we take the tag out we can get something from it?" She rubs her thumb along her bottom lip as she thinks. "I'll go get some stuff and be back." She slips out the gate as she walks toward the shed. I wonder how long it will take for Krauft to come after me.

Hello my lovely Readers!! I just wanted to thank each and everyone of you!! His Lost Love was my first book but somewhere, I lost the spark and foolishly decided to stop writing it. It was the most stupidest thing I have ever. I wouldn't have finished it if not for your faith on me. You have been showering me with your constant love and support throughout the journey. Some of you have even motivated me to continue the story when I had lost hope as a writer. I am grateful to all those amazing readers!! You don't know what it means to me.