The Marlow Novels & Stories

“You’re supposed to be dead, Lolita. Again.” “I think I’m going to die out here.” Marlowe said this matter-of-factly, as though he couldn’t care less. The thought of his death was something I couldn’t handle. It filled me with a perfect storm of hope and terror. We were in New Mexico, somewhere between Taos and Santa Fe. From the road he’d seen an old church, a tiny white adobe building, glowing like a beacon. He’d pulled over without a word, stepped out of the car, and starting walking toward it. I followed him, taking in the scent of sage and juniper that was heavy in the air.

Eriwan continued paying attention to what happened in front of his eyes again. Then, Mr. Saber Marchand and Mrs. Emily Marchand got on the carriage waiting for them at the front gate of the church. Marius also got on the carriage. Marvelo could do nothing except crying, sobbing and weeping when the carriage went farther and farther, beginning to vanish step by step from his eyes. Out of a sudden, Marvelo ran forwards. He charged forwards immensely quickly and hurriedly. While crying and sobbing tearfully, he kept on shouting Marius’ name out loud. He went on running and running quickly forwards, while he carried on shouting and shouting Marius’ name.

Marlow just looked at me with a blank expression on his face, but I have spent about a week with him and I knew it meant “I’m glad you found a way around your skin reaction and can now shower like a human being.” “You know, just for once I’d like to hear your voice.” He gave me a blank stare and then looked away when Miles handed him the tablet so he could make his order. “Hey, do you guys know Trevor Reed?” I asked deciding to give up on getting Marlow to talk to me. Instantly, all their faces became sour and grumpy. “Everyone knows Trevor Reed,” Miles spat with disgust. He sounded like a Disney villain with his accent, I almost giggled.

Marve’s wife said with an expression that was tired. “Why exactly has he taken this path and why is trying to bring down Mr Blackwood?…: he only mentioned that he lost loved ones because of Mr Blackwood” I asked out of curiosity. “Yes, he indeed lost loved ones….the thing is, Marve is an orphan” Marve’s wife said. “Orphan?” I asked. “Yes, he grew up in an orphanage….it’s name was kind of peculiar, something safe orphanage” Marve’s wife said.

"I thought you would like to know what your wife is up to while you’re busy running your business. She’s a very beautiful woman, after all." Jace's nostrils flared, his hands balling into fists under the desk. "Beautiful or not, she's my wife. If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your damn distance from her…and me. I believe I'm communicating??" Marlow's smile didn’t shift. "Oh, I have no interest in your wife, Mr. Malvis. But others could be interested in this…information." Jace's pulse skipped a beat, his thoughts grabbing onto Marlow's ideas. "What do you mean others?”

"We have to assume that there are more of them on the island. We need to move fast and find Nora." I nod in agreement. We can't afford to waste any time. Marlow shifts back to his human form, his eyes glinting. "Well what are we waiting for? Let's go." We head into the boiler room, where the boiler hums and a bit of smoke from the fire still hangs in the air. "Where's the secret tunnel?" I ask Marlow. "Right there." He points at a spot along the wall that's half-covered in boards. "They must have been covering it up," Brynn says. "That's what they were doing in here."

Even Sebastian, who didn't like the idea of Isabella, having a boyfriend, couldn't stop sniffing back tears. “Damn it Marlowe!” Bich moaned. “You ain't going to make me cry today.”

I have done it. I ended up marrying a man I never thought I would. I was staring outside the window with an emotionless gaze. Wearing the arresting wedding dress. I never thought it would feel this dry and cold on my wedding night. As my eyes were affixed outside, the door slightly opened and the heartless man I married entered with swift steps. “Well, well, look who’s here finally.” A mocking tone came, echoing in the dead silent but profoundly decorated room.

They were already in too deep. A soft voice broke through her storm of thoughts. “You shouldn’t be seen with him.” Selene turned sharply to see Marlowe, one of Alaric’s closest advisors, standing in the shadows. His pale eyes glittered with something dark—curiosity, suspicion, maybe even amusement. She straightened her spine, forcing her face into a neutral mask. "Is there a reason you’re lurking in corners, Marlowe?" His lips twitched in a smirk. "Perhaps I enjoy watching little rebels plot their downfall."