The Underground Railroad: A Novel Novels & Stories

The rain fell in relentless sheets, turning the narrow alleyways of the city into rivers of grime and despair. Luna’s bare feet splashed through muddy puddles as she was led, blindfolded and bound, to the infamous underground auction house. Her heart pounded like a war drum. She had heard whispers of this place—where lives were sold with the flick of a hand and the clink of gold. She never thought she’d end up here.

Henry was tortured so badly that he was almost unrecognizable, but the date stamp showed it wasn't from this year. "According to the criminal's statement, Henry was near death in the second year after they fled to Northern Myralis. So Joanna sold his organs, one by one," the officer explained. Henry was dead. He probably never understood why Joanna, the woman he once loved and trusted, had done this to him. But I did. I had once stumbled upon Dad's old notebook. I learned from it that the case back then had an anonymous tipster. This person provided a ton of key info just to bring down their competitor.

The rain had subsided a little, but still not stopped and I wanted to keep my semi-dry condition. Answer a call, hold your cell phone to your ear. "Hi Eve." “Oh god, Grace, Grace, Grace! You will never guess what happened to me today! " I leaned against the cold stone facade. "Your chips are running low and they were sold out in the supermarket?" "What? No! I smoked out a Nest Minors today! " I made a face. I hated those little critters. These little rat-like descendants were the relatively harmless proles there were, but if you found them in whole nests, you could get into a lot of trouble.

The shelter on 9th and Crenshaw looked smaller than Meekey expected. Just a square of brick and peeling paint, wedged between an auto shop and a boarded-up deli. But when she stepped inside, warmth radiated from every corner—blankets stacked neatly in bins, laughter drifting from the kitchen, volunteers handing out hot bowls of soup to people who hadn’t eaten since yesterday. It was the kind of place Meekey never would’ve stepped foot in before prison. Back then, her pride was too sharp. She used to think places like this were for the weak.

The music started again. By the time they threw me into the small, damp room that was to be my new home, I was gasping for air. The servant chambers were located in the bowels of the palace, where the stone was always wet and the air tasted of mold. Every breath felt like a shockwave of broken glass traveling down my lungs. I collapsed against the stone wall, the silver chains clinking mockingly in the dark. I closed my eyes, praying for a sleep that wouldn't come, a sleep that would swallow the memory of Lia’s hand in his hair. Hours passed. Or maybe it was only minutes. In the dark, time becomes a distorted thing. I lay there, shivering, my body trying to heal the invisible wounds of a rej

I don't usually put content alerts but I thought it would be a good idea to include one here. This chapter may contain triggering content! There is abuse and hintings of rape. Please read at your own discretion. • • • The air was wonderful against my face. We were seated on the roof of an abandoned building with the magnificent skyline before us. Tonight had been a bust. Sure I'd been able to make enough to pay off the rent but I could still feel the strong fingers clutching my arm like a vice.

“So the guy’s getting anonymous links to an underground darknet site.” “By guy you mean DC Harlow, right? The detective whose wife and child were burned alive.” “That’s right.” “Very Derek Raymond.” “What?” “The protagonist I mean, like the unnamed police officer who narrates all of Raymond’s Factory novels.” “Oh yeah, yes, that’s it exactly.”

The whole place has been burnt down, nothing was left behind. That evil man had absolutely burnt everything they wasn't so much as even a single store house left, just that secret passage and the cells, the way I had gotten my women and children out, the entrance to the tunnel was covered by Evie and well hidden but I had found it and nossed my way through it, strolled down the pitch black tunnel, and found the cells still standing, made from stone. The Ravens going anywhere anytime soon.

She hasn't had any contact with anyone in the SS since she left, knowing it would have just made 'Moving On' harder, but one evening, she receives an email… from Jemma, begging her to return to PTV and help her and the girls get their outlaws out of Prison. Will Harley help them out and prove she IS a member of the family after all or is the outlaw biker lifestyle just not for her? ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- WARNING for this book; It will contain triggering subjects such as sexual assault/rape and violence. This book WON'T be ''glorifying'' rape, however it is a big subject in the character background. If any of those issues are t

No one has found the bodies yet, though, so theres still a lingering hope out there that they're alive. I sigh as I crawl under the thick quilt, flicking on the lamo beside me as I pull out my latest find at Barnes and Nobels: The Winter Garden by the famous Kristin Hannah. This woman's books are truly amazing. Then, after an hour long reading session, I find my eyes beginning to shut against my will, so I set down the book on the bedside table and shut off the lamp. ~ The next morning...