Thirteen Days To Midnight Book Novels & Stories

It had been eleven days since Mom and Roderick pretty much left us here, and somehow, meaning we had three days left till we returned back to civilization... Three days till freedom. The thought nearly brought tears of joy to my eyes. I was curled up on the couch by the fire, wrapped in a blanket with a book in my lap. The flames were crackling lazily, casting soft golden and orange hues around the room. I’d been staring at the same paragraph for five minutes, and the words just wouldn’t stick. The story was some dramatic historical romance—it wasn’t really my thing. I preferred fantasy and adventure, stories that took me away from my reality. This one was just making me drowsy.

"How you manage is your problem. I won't let you stay in this house any longer. Three days. I'm giving you three days to move all your belongings out. After three days, I'm changing the locks. "If any of your things are still inside by then, I'll consider them abandoned property and dispose of them accordingly." "Graham! Don't push it too far!" Sloane shrieked. "Three days? Where are we supposed to go in three days? You're trying to kill us!" "Yeah, Graham, three days is too short. This..." Donovan panicked too. "Too short?" I smiled slightly. "When you changed my lock this morning, did you give me any time? When you were plotting how to kick me out and steal my house, did you give me any wa

"Daniel will hear it in the orchard and understand." "He'll hear the echo." "He'll recognize it." She picked her book up. "Fifty-seven days." "Fifty-six now. It's past midnight." She looked at the clock. "Fifty-six," she said. "Fifty-six." She opened her book. I turned the lamp to my side and picked up mine and we read in the quiet and the notebooks sat on their respective nightstands and the vows were done and fifty-six days was August and everything was exactly where it needed to be.

Winter is definitely approaching quickly. I thought it was going to be difficult to light the fireplace but the moment I held the lighter close to the wood it lit up. I sat down on the floor so that I could be close to the fire. I glanced at the clock, 6:15pm. I leaned over and grabbed the first book from the couch. The lightening thief. Maybe I could read one chapter and go and try to sleep. It was already 9 pm, and I was really tired, but the book was so interesting, demigods, minotaurs, camp half blood ...

Even if they were nutritious enough to give here some energy, she still wouldn't be able to do it because they had wolves, unlike her. "It's just a few hours." "Only a few hours, and then I'll be out of here forever!" She whispered to herself, turning to look at the silver clock on the wall, but her face was gripped by force, a rain of slaps washing all over her but she had already seen the time, and she counted even though she felt herself losing consciousness. It was ten o'clock, so only fourteen hours remained until midnight, when her nightmares would end. "Only fourteen hours, Mil." Just hold on a little. "You have waited for this day for seventeen tough years, but not anymore." Even whe

Book Thirteen: Dark Promise I sucked at packing. Didn't matter how much time I had to tackle the task, my clothes always ended up scrunched and squished and wrinkled. If I stuffed in one more useless sweater the zipper on my long-suffering suitcase would bust. And I still had a week before I had to leave for Harvard.

That thought was quickly tossed aside because if that was the case, the noises I made by kicking in a window aloud with my own cries and outburst from dressing my wounds would undoubtedly have been heard. Curled up between the two chairs with my face barely sticking out of my sleeping bag, my eyelids feel weighted with exhaustion and the comfort of finally being warm. The small LED lantern is in the dimmest mode, sitting on the table beside me casting a soft warm light. I usually sleep best in pitch black darkness, but am not brave or crazy enough to sleep without a light turned on while I'm inside this abandoned building at night. The last thing I remember doing before passing out for the n

THIRD PERSON POV The old Blackwood Manor stood silhouetted against a bruised, storm-threatening sky, a hulking relic of a forgotten gothic novel. To Liam, it felt less like an inheritance and more like a prison sentence. Three days. The lawyer’s letter had been brutally specific. He and Isabelle had to reside together under this roof for seventy-two continuous hours to claim their shares of the estate from their eccentric, and recently deceased, mutual benefactor, Arthur Blackwood.

Eventually, I forced myself to look at the ornate clock on the mantle above the fireplace. 11:47 PM. Thirteen minutes. Thirteen minutes until midnight. Thirteen minutes until Damon would parade me in front of the entire pack and claim me as his Luna. Thirteen minutes until my life as I knew it ended completely. Unless... An idea sparked in my mind, desperate and probably foolish. But it was the only chance I had left. I turned away from the window, my heels clicking against the hardwood as I walked toward the two maids. They straightened immediately in their chairs, watching me with wary eyes.

I muttered, smiling at her before she dipped her head lightly and went back to her work. Nothing was written outside the envelope, only the stamp molded on the wax seal. A rose crest with a snake coiled around the stem. Strange. Curiosity beat me to it, and I opened the envelope, pulling out a quarter-piece size of paper. The air in my lungs disappeared. My heart plunged down beneath the soles of my feet, and my blood ran cold with terror as I read the handwritten words inked on the paper. ‘You’re going to die a painful death, Cara Davidsons. He ain’t going to protect you forever.’