Twisted Book Emily Novels & Stories

Eleanor's eyes locked onto Lucas, tears spilling with rapid velocity as she struggled to stand right, her head throbbing and her body felt weak. But none of that matters because she had to find her sons "What do you mean the twins are missing?" he asked her, his voice laced with confusion. As she watched him drop the fry pan he was holding, gently removing his apron and gesturing for the maids in the kitchen to exit “And why are you up and about”

“Tailored just right, enhancing the experience rather than overpowering it. But of course, that depends on taste.” Ava let out a delighted laugh. “I love that! You should write a book, Emily.” I clenched my jaw. She was stealing my moment. This was supposed to be about me, my engagement, my flawless life. Not some overly poetic nonsense about cocktails. Emily turned to me then, her green eyes cool and unreadable. “And for you, Maya?” I smiled tightly. “The usual.” Her brow lifted, just slightly. “Remind me,” she said smoothly.

From what I had done. Four attempts before this one. The first time, the letters were too neat. Emily never wrote neatly. Her handwriting slanted left, against all logic, the way a left-handed person might write if forced to use the right hand. The second attempt, I made it too messy, too angry. Emily's anger was quiet. Passive-aggressive. The third and fourth were closer, but the 'e' was wrong. Emily always looped her 'e' like a little eye. I kept making it a circle.

She had no idea that this woman standing before her had anything to do with the young inmate, that she was, in fact, the very crux of the situation. However, she recognized her. She had seen her face on the back of several paperbacks, even the one that she owned. A book called Wolves at the Door, which she had picked up on impulse and quite enjoyed. Diamond had a way with words, and though her stories were strange, they never lost the coherency of narrative that kept you attached to her characters. “You're a lot stronger than the others,” Emily smirked. Her wicked smile was nothing like the cute one she displayed in her author photo. “Everyone else just collapsed when I pushed on them.”

THIRTY: JESSICA'S POV I watched as Willow grabbed the book from Emily enthusiastically. I didn't know she loved to read this much. She stretched her hands to the stool beside her and grabbed her glasses. I thought she was just being her playful self when she had earlier asked Emily to pass the book to her, but right now? It looks like she is serious. In no time, her fingers flipped the book cover open, adjusting her glasses with her free hand. “A Mystery Romance," she said with a shy giggle. “Ohh I'm so going to love this read!” She continued flipping to the next page.

She wasn't just a human who couldn't handle a wolf’s world. She was a predator. "Lyla," a voice said. Emily spun around. Morrigan stood in the doorway, watching her. "You found it," Morrigan said. "You knew," Emily accused. "You knew what this book was." "I suspected," Morrigan admitted. "I needed to see if the book would answer you. It has been blank for a thousand years." She walked over to Emily. She looked at the grey book. "You are dangerous, Emily Carter." "Lyla," Emily corrected. She clutched the book to her chest. "My name is Lyla Raines."

“‘The heat of your skin… the grace of your touch… I will drown in the depth of your soul…’” She wasn't dreaming. This was the raw, jagged reality. They were reading her deepest, most forbidden fantasies of love. “Britany!” she cried out, lunging for them. “What?” Britany smirked, holding the book high. She wasn't just holding paper; she was holding Emily’s very soul. “That belongs to me,” Emily said, her voice shaking as she tried to project a calm she didn't feel. “And?” the Alpha girl replied, her eyes cold as ice.

**** Meanwhile, Emily was enjoying her newly granted freedom—even if it came with a six-foot-four security shadow. Holding her green apple, she wandered aimlessly through the pristine hallways of the upper levels. She passed a library that looked like something out of a classic film—two stories high, lined with dark walnut shelves packed to the brim with leather-bound volumes. A rolling brass ladder rested against the wall, facing an automated stone fireplace. She took a bite of her apple, whispering to herself, "Who on earth actually reads all of these? Or does he just buy knowledge by the square foot?"

Diana was surprised because Emily didn't come alone, but came with Emma. "Yes, I don't think it's a problem. After all, you don't say that I can't invite anyone, right?" Diana can't say anything, "Hmmm ... Alright. I hope he can keep the secret." "Why is the library very quiet?" "Nobody is interested in this place. They prefer to play in the hall or gymnasium," Emma answered while sitting on a long bench next to it. "Okay. I want to tell you something." Emma looked down a festive book on the bottom shelf. The book is located in the corner, looks quite obsolete. Emma looked curious. Diana opened it and took a paper from the book. He looked right and left, making sure there was no one who saw