Trashy Town Book Novels & Stories

“Where my next target is. I am hoping, now that I have read the book, cover to cover, I can exchange it for the opportunity to read a very rare tome that they possess. It is a fair trade.” The smell hit me as the bitter scent of the magic faded. It stank. The smell was indescribable. Refuse, fish, bodily waste... I saw someone empty a chamber pot out of an upstairs window onto the street below, and someone else throw dirty water from a bucket. Rivyn kept Coryfe to the centre of the street so as to avoid any putrid liquid, and made a sound of disgust, and then amusement as a man was caught in a discard from above and began to curse.

“You were very proud of yourself for approximately twelve minutes before you passed out again in the Uber.” I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. “I’m a virgin, Daisy. A virgin. I was supposed to stay that way until marriage. And now I apparently sucked off a stranger in a club?” She shrugged, completely unbothered. “Technically, you sucked off a very hot, very masked stranger. Big difference.” I groaned again and dragged my hands down my face.

I was from Saint town and alpha was Alpha Saul, he was also the Leader of Saint town. When I was little, in the orphanage home, the caretakers told us stories about the other side of the town, it was a whole community on its own. It was called the Stray town. The tales told it was a town for the strongest of our kind, but others said it was the dwelling of the most mischievous and ambitious of our kind. The rich and powerful dwelt there. They were all red werewolves. The most powerful wolves ever lived.

No one was likely to come scavenging after me. *** I’d been scrapping for about six months when I pulled up to a promising pile of junk before a two-story white home with blue trim on Hyland Avenue. After a quick once-over, however, I decided to leave because like many other homes this one had boxes of books on its curb for disposal, which always depressed me. Despite not having read anything since losing my job, it still saddened me to encounter discarded books.

“I am unfamiliar with where you came from, but I know very well where you are now. You are nestled in the Catskill Mountains just west of Monticello, New York near a little spoken of town called Honeyville. Master Rowan had this castle built well over a century ago as a place to lay his head when he was in this country. It is a lovely home with 44 rooms, 32 stairwells, 18 fireplaces and 21 chimneys, all hewn from hand-mixed reinforced concrete in a blend of medieval, Byzantine, and Gothic styles. When you are feeling better, perhaps you would like a tour.” “I was in Philadelphia,” Jasper muttered with despair. “I belong in Philadelphia. My work is there. My home…” “Your home is now he

“I can’t believe that I have to spend my break with her. I would rather clean the bathroom as punishment instead.” I know that I should be offended that watching over me for the entire day is his punishment for whatever thing he did, but somehow, I feel very pleased because now I have an excuse to make this day even worse for him. *** We ride a strange animal called a ‘car’ to head into town. As strange as this sounds, struckwe have to ride it's inside for it to take us to wherever we want to go. The town that the humans call it is completely remodelled. The place barely has any trees. Even the ground is completely solidified and occupied by the cars. After seeing the state that their land i

There were so many books on the table, it made the table looks messy. "Urgh, boys are so dirty", She uttered as she opened the book and began to go through it. A piece of paper dropped down to the floor, when she switched to the next page. She dropped the book on the table and swat down to pick it up. " Alvin Dallas, A", She read and gasped. "So that means when he said he failed the test, he was lying, but why did he lied", Precious said in a whisper and felt a cold hand touched her shoulder. She shrug in fear and turned to look at him.

Above them, the carved crest of the town—a stylized hourglass flanked by laurel—was fractured clean down the middle. “This is it,” Elias murmured. The air was different here. Thicker. Charged. My skin prickled as though the library itself recognized us. I swallowed hard. “Let’s go.” The interior smelled of dust and decay. Shafts of dying sunlight pierced through shattered windows, cutting the gloom into pale stripes. Every footstep echoed too loudly, bouncing off rows of collapsed shelves. Books lay scattered across the floor, their pages yellowed and brittle. Some disintegrated into ash at the slightest touch of air.

Hazel froze. She turned slowly toward a cluster of luxury SUVs on the left side of the floor. Walking toward them were two girls dressed in flashy, logo-heavy outfits, flanked by a young guy wearing an oversized designer watch and a smug expression. It was Chloe and Tanya, two girls Hazel had the misfortune of knowing during her college days, along with Tanya’s boyfriend, Romeo. Back in school, they had made a sport out of dropping passive-aggressive comments about Hazel’s humble background, her thrifted clothes, and her lack of a family trust fund.

It was a chaotic din of shouting, coughing, and the grinding of scavenged metal. The Slag Heap was a shantytown built into the foundations of the city. Hovels made of scrap iron and rot-resistant tarp were stacked on top of each other, bridging the gaps between the massive support pillars that held up the glorious Empire above. A river of sludge—industrial runoff—flowed through the center, glowing with a faint, toxic green luminescence. "Stay close," Tristan warned, keeping a hand on the small of her back. "Don't make eye contact. Don't stop walking."