Thirteen Days To Midnight Book Novels & Stories

Something about a bridge being nearby is the only thing I can remember. Suddenly, the world swirls and I’m standing on that bridge with Kendric. “I fell off the cliff and then ended up here. This was our third life, for sure.” Kendric looks over at me with a confused expression. “Are you seeing this too?” A ticking clock sounds from somewhere nearby and I look around to see where it’s coming from. “Do you hear that?” A voice comes out of nowhere from somewhere above us. “Midnight is coming. Run while you can.”

The bolt mystery. You. Specifically and completely you. That's Night Nineteen. Just gratitude. For all of it. She reads this one twice, puts it in the book with the photographs, and doesn't say anything for a long time. When she does she says: "Section 7.3." "Section 7.3," he confirms. "That's on the list of things you're grateful for," she says. "It changed our timeline by six months," he says. "Of course it's on the list."

Millie says digging through her bag. “Alright,” I say looking back out the window and watching little ants of people walking around. An hour later Millie leaves for her first meeting looking like a sexy little businesswoman. I’m exhausted from the early morning flight so I turn off all the lights, close the shades of the windows, and tuck myself into the stiff bed. Normally I’d complain about a stiff mattress but it’s doing wonders for my tense back. I read another chapter of my sexy, filthy erotic novel and close my eyes to dreamland.

And I closed my eyes… He stepped back. Quick. Decisive. Like he’d broken a rule by letting it go that far. “Go,” he said. “Before I change my mind.” I hesitated. My mouth opened. Nothing came out. So I left. The door shut behind me like a final warning. *** Lucien found me twenty minutes later, curled on a velvet couch in the lounge, reading a book I got from the library. It was a book about the history of the wolves.

His hand struck my face so hard that blood started trickling from the corner of my mouth. Waiters and customers all around us stopped and stared in shock. They glanced at Edwin, who was dressed in fancy clothes from head to toe, and then back at me. Whispers and looks of judgment started to spread. Edwin was just as surprised by Matthew's sudden slap. He wrapped his arms around me, his face full of worry. I saw Edwin's hands ball into fists, ready to fight back, but I held him back with a calm hand. "Matthew, always playing the innocent party, huh? Why don't you tell them about the time you brought your pregnant girlfriend home on Christmas Eve and left me alone in the snow? That's when we l

CHAPTER 7 307 days before my life was caught short The time on my alarm clock blinked red in the dark: 3:12 a.m. I hadn’t planned to stay awake that long. At least, that’s what I told myself. But the weight of the photo and the word scrawled on its back had pressed on my chest like a slow-building storm all evening. By midnight, I’d stopped pretending sleep was coming. By 2:30, I was sitting up in bed, fully dressed, staring at the window.

Thirty days. One month. A single, heartbeat-stopping wager. Benjamin Parker was the sun. A golden-haired scholarship recruit with flour on his hands and a heart that he wore—vulnerable and beating—on his sleeve. He spent weeks chasing the school’s "Ice Prince," offering handmade tarts and a smile that could melt the coldest winter. He thought his persistence finally paid off when Jonathan Hayes—the obsidian-eyed, terrifyingly beautiful heir to a tech empire—pinned him against the school gates and claimed him in front of everyone. But the "Golden Romance" was a lie from the very first kiss. Jonathan didn't choose Benjamin because of his heart; he chose him because he was a convenient t

“If there were a book three, the title would be Dusk?” “Midnight is a transition, darkness, silence, the feeling of loneliness and loss. Dawn is hope, and if Dawn is as successful as Midnight, then the third book will be Nightfall, but it’s not exactly the time of day. It’s a locale mentioned in the book.” “Okay. No more spoilers, T.S. Prince.” “You’re not mad?” “About you being the author, and making me look like a fool?” He chuckled. “I wanna bite you right now, but it can wait until I come back from the trip.”

The clock on the nightstand reads 11:47. Midnight is thirteen minutes away. The numbers glow red in the dark room, pulsing like a heartbeat, like a countdown, like a warning. Nathaniel is on the phone with Marcus, his voice low, urgent, the words spilling out in rushed bursts. Julian is pulling security footage from the building across the street, frame by frame, searching for a face, a shadow, a shape in the dark.

Moonlight came through the big windows. I moved to his desk first. Drawers were locked. I tried the bookshelves next. Nothing. Then I noticed a small painting on the wall. It looked different. I lifted it carefully. Behind it was a hidden safe. My heart raced. I tried numbers. My birthday. Nothing. Sarah’s birthday. The safe clicked open. Inside were papers and a small black book. I pulled out the book. My sister’s diary. Real leather. Her handwriting on the first page. Tears came fast as I read.