Under The Skin Book Novels & Stories

Like the ants were eating up his hair roots from within and pulling it on the outside and as if their saliva, if they had any, was like acid, corroding his skin. Since he gained freedom of his limbs, he tried to itch it but to his great surprise, his skin peeled off. Not just the outer protective layer, the inner walls of his skin peeled off exposing his bones. His skin was as soft and delicate as an overly ripened seed mango. Soft and mushy with liquids spilling from every cut. He gazed up from his bloodied hand to Tess’s face. He wore a curious expression that said, “ why is this happening?” Tess smirked and shrugged.

Well, I'm the fucking Devil, and I will make people roar in fear of me. I'll be the dark fog engulfing the room, with nothing to lose and so much to gain. Like smoke, destroying everything it comes into contact with, until, all that remains is the aberrant odour of my contamination. My name is Sandro Peker, and you can read about my mission in the upcoming instalment of... Hidden Secrets: Forbidden Heirs.

Both were really awkward at each other at first but when they found out that both were reading the same book, they eventually got a comfortable to talk at each other. “So, you also read that book-” “Yeah, I got into it after a friend of mine recommended it to me.” “Isn’t it a great book.” “Yeah, I got hooked on it after reading the first chapter.” “bla-bla-bla” Both continued to talked to each other and enjoyed their conversation. “I was feeling an awkward atmosphere growing between our table so I was gonna try to start a conversation but when you brought out your book, I was just surprised to see a person reading it.” The girl said.

sweatshirt, which had a small bleach spot that she liked to think made it unique, along with some mismatched fuzzy socks. Her skin was glistening, glossy from the 9-step skincare routine she refused to gatekeep. She flipped another page of The Wilted Magnolia — a tragic romance novel that had slowly but surely been getting on her last nerve. Flip. Gasp. Her wide brown eyes scanned the words like they might rearrange themselves if she stared hard enough. "Oh, HELL no," she said flatly. Her hand shot out dramatically, snatching the book closed like it owed her money. She stared at the cover like it had personally insulted her.

And I was living proof that judging a book by its cover was a dangerous game. He stepped into the other room. He was back in moments, his latest victim a silent wraith. She was nothing but skin and bone, her belly sucked in so far I could see the point on the base of her sternum. Her hair was chopped off at odd angles and her skin had a yellow cast to it.

A woman with red wild hair and green eyes in an embrace with a man with shoulder length hair and chocolate brown eyes. UNDER MY SKIN….. The book was about an impossible love story. A broken heart leading to some very serious situation. An unhealthy relationship between a vampire and a woman. It was about soul mates. Vera loved the sound of it and so, she quickly opened the book and began reading. CHAPTER ONE….

She offered a polite nod to the librarian and slipped into a quiet, secluded corner. He sat alone, a man with close-cropped hair, his lean frame casually draped in a fitted gray shirt. His tattoos caught her eye first, intricate designs winding up his arms. Her fingers twitched with the urge to trace the patterns, to feel the texture of his skin beneath. His focus was locked on a book, and from the cover, it was about body painting, "for dummies." Cute, she thought. She considered leaving, unwilling to intrude on what appeared to be an almost zen moment. But then, her gaze caught a glimmer of silver: a name etched on an ID tag clipped to his book.

But it looked like shit, especially on the parts where the skin acquired a leather-like appearance. “Shit Kiara, I need to take you to the hospital” “What the hell are you doing here?” **** Author's Note: Thank you for reading my book! If you liked it, please be sure to leave a review. If you want to know more about my books, follow me on facebook at @PixieAuriBooks

At the end, a rusted iron door bore the mark of three crescent moons and an inverted cross. He unlocked it with the brass key he’d worn around his neck since 1987. Inside, dust choked the air. Shelves held old scrolls, bones of heretical priests, and on a stone table, one object sat under a black shroud. Merrin lifted the cloth with care. A massive book lay beneath it—its cover made of human skin, still faintly warm. A symbol glowed faintly at its center. The Black Record. He opened the first page. Names of brides.

My true nature was revealed when my skin appeared in the sunlight, and I didn't want anyone to know my secret. But how could this be happening now, in this dimly lit café? I couldn't make sense of it, and my heart was pounding in my chest as I tried to hide my skin from Athen's view. The cracking of my skin was accompanied by a strange sound, like the sound of cracking ice. It was a sound that was both eerie and mesmerizing. I quickly crossed my legs, hoping to cover up the green light before it could be noticed.