The Nightingale Novels & Stories

My gaze shifted away from the soldier, sending him away with a wave, "acknowledged. I will serve." He saluted once more, closing the door behind him as he left. I glanced down at the small paper parchment between my fingers, my gaze darting up and out into the darkness of the window open before me. Only little lights could be seen in the distance. Random lads with lanterns maneuvering in the dark day. The dark day had just stormed and thundered for hours as the echoes of the Night Wolf filled the empty sky with haunting howls. Hunting in his forest. It was only a few hours ago that lightning had roared as if weapons thrown by the gods themselves, striking down trees that now littered the cou

I sat with that for a while and did not rush the conclusion. A cigarette. The small ritual of it, the amber light of the ember in the dark of the room, the particular quality of thinking that came with something occupying the hands and leaving the mind to move. The grounds outside the window had gone fully dark, the late autumn dark that had weight to it, pressing against the glass. The compound was at its quietest. The second watch change had come and gone and the rotation had settled and the night had reached the hour when even the most alert among us began to trust the silence. She had not moved.

Was there truly a traitor among them, working from within the school’s walls? Suddenly, a timid voice broke through the tension, drawing all eyes to its source. It was a young girl standing near the front of the crowd, her voice barely above a whisper. “M-my name is Leona Nightingale,” she stammered, her eyes wide with fear. “I-I am part of The Averrant.” Before anyone could react, Caleb’s katana flashed in the air, and with a swift movement, he struck down Leona. Shock rippled through the crowd as her body fell to the ground, blood staining the earth beneath her.

She turned in her sleep and the robe she wore on top of the revealing nightie he saw last night flew open exposing her goodies to his hungry eyes. He willed himself to look away and not be tempted by the shape of her body and how well her breast pressed against the fabric of the nightie, he could see her perky nipples and was very tempted to touch them, how he was able to spend the night with such a gorgeous woman and not take her was beyond him but now that he was awake, he had to remind himself who she was and why it would be a bad idea to start anything with her. Lance finally got himself to look away from her and got off the bed, he meant to leave without waking her but she must be a lig

That Night Copyright © K.I. Lynn This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This work is copyrighted. All rights are reserved. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without prior written permission of the author.

Tancorix strained her eyes to the north side of the valley and spotted a few fireflies in the night, something she wondered if the Romans could see as well. The Romans had spread out their numbers to the south, though, digging in for a fight. A few pickets walked out in the bright light of the moon, spears up, scanning the plain. They pointed their spears at the three females, but could do little as they were so far away. Ragala made an obscene gesture with her left hand, but Weaver swiped at her in the air as if she could strike her down. The girl frowned, bit her lip and let her chin drop.

Nightingale? After hearing the words, Tony's eyes flashed, and his eyes crossed with a trace of eagerness. He is also a big fan of Nightingale! But how could Nightingale, a mysterious and elegant music genius, help Kim such a shallow woman? He didn't believe that Kim could invite a nightingale!

The nightingale's sharp beak forcefully pecked open the box filled with secrets, crazy memories surged out, pouring out all over. She saw herself effortlessly unlocking his computer with subconscious numbers. "Indeed, being moved is foolish." The nightingale, always hitting the target, never failing, could hit a flying fly in the air with a bullet. She raised the gun at the man she shouldn't have feelings for. She had successfully aimed at his heart, but at the last moment of firing, she deviated and didn't hit. When she discovered that Caesar's password was the time of her first permanent mark, the nigh

She smiled faintly before moving away from me. I felt like she knew I was distracted but was letting it go because it was me, and I had tried to say something. I needed to get my focus back or at least fake it better. “Now, as we’ve been talking about and as Anastasia has brought to our attention,” Professor Eddie continued, her tone calm. “The nightingale in this poem represents more than just a bird, it symbolizes transcendence, the desire to escape the fleeting nature of human life and perhaps even the poet’s longing for oblivion.”

She stood up quickly and walked over to the small kitchen counter, her throat feeling like absolute sandpaper. She grabbed a large glass pitcher of water from the small refrigerator and poured it down her throat, practically drinking the entire contents in a desperate bid to quench her burning thirst. She had arrived at her apartment late in the afternoon, utterly exhausted from her brutal training session with Nimrod, and fatigue had claimed her the moment her head hit the pillow.