Tradd Street Series By Karen White Novels & Stories

Bubble answered my question as Jake responded through the radio. “It seems like it.” “Lets just stick to the mission guys, we can debate this later.” Wheeler commented. “Anything?” “No all clear.” Jake stated, closely followed by Porter then myself. I relaxed again but kept my eyes searching. As the trucks raced through the old neighbourhood streets. It was heart breaking seeing just what had happened to the world. I could imagine how it used to look, green grass, garden flowers in bloom families enjoying the summers children playing in the streets. Now there was barely a blade of grass to be seen, and the bit that was left was brown and shrivelled. Houses were missing windows and doors in s

They shifted into their wolf forms and charged alongside their pack, both sides roaring with bloodlust as they raced toward each other, driven by the urge to kill. A week passed with no word from Zachary or anyone else. Rufus feared the worst but clung to hope, waiting in silence. Two days later, his worst fears were confirmed—Zachary was dead. The castle lay in ruins, and the White Crescents were no more. Everyone had been reduced to ashes.

Caleb found some girls to talk to fairly quickly. He’d dealt with situations like this before and knew just where to look. He smiled, cordially, as he approached the group. Emma elected to stay in the car. Caleb resisted the urge to frown as he realized none of their cake-make-up faces were familiar. It was always harder to get information from girls who didn’t know him. One was wearing a red wig with matching lipstick and gold eye shadow. One had bleach-blonde hair, pink lips and blue eyelids. The third had decided to be a bit bolder with a black wig, lips and eye shadow.

“I’m Troy, by the way. I served in the Marines with Brock. I’m a college professor, now.” “Oh, do you like it?” Lexi asked. “I do,” Troy said. “What do you do for a living, Lexi?” “I’m a travel blogger and fiction writer,” she answered. “Oh, what do you write?” the black woman asked with interest. “Well, I’m trying my hand at romance suspense,” Lexi said shyly. “I have a manuscript written, but I haven’t found an agent yet.” “How do you know, Brock?” another white man asked. He was standing next to the fireplace.

Samantha is making sure that her old pack is the first to experience her wrath. The next night, the warriors, witches, and several security technicians went to the Redwood Pack. This was the time to break through all barriers. Samantha was going to blow up their security centers first, then she was going to kill Alexi. She was the one that ruined her life because of her very existence.

Layla asked with wide eyes. “Tell them you got to go to the bathroom again.” “Or better yet, tell them you’re going out to call the babysitter. That’ll take a little longer,” Margo suggested in a muffled tone as she freshened up her lipstick. Alec and Layla looked at her with surprise. “I have to admit, that’s pretty good,” Alec commented. The door opened again. A short, old woman who had white hair and was wearing a long, pink dress with light sequence came in. She let out a short shriek and clasped her chest with her matching purse as she looked at Alec. She hurried out, leaving the door half open.

For them, I could pretend to be just a useless, weak Omega. Nobody knew my real truth. They just saw a poor girl in oversized clothes. They didn't know that underneath the dirt and the drab dye I used to stain my hair, I was the last surviving White Wolf. “Hide it, Aisha,” my mother’s dying words always echoed in my mind. “If the Luna ever sees your white fur, she will kill you out of jealousy. Stay small. Stay hidden.” So, I stayed small. Even when Luna Mabel treated me like dirt under her expensive shoes.

There was a guard before her father's study, and the guard began to say something to her, but she ignored him and walked inside to her father sitting on his desk, scratching with his pen, leaving inked words on a document. "You mustn't go," Anna said and felt the hand of the guard behind her. Her father looked up at her, and curtly nodded, the guard released his hold of her and withdrew out of the room. Lord White, they called him. He was the only man Anna knew who did things rationally, acting on patience, and true justice. His leadership on Crest Hill after all had kept the people from the notorious Baron's men. But now, the Baron's men seemed more persistent, and were beginning to ask so