Unholy Books Novels & Stories

I go to the library where I see Abner Brooks. “Ahh, young Morgan, I’m not surprised to see you here.” He gives me a genuine smile. “I came to look for books on word alchemy, I’m not sure what or if they have any here.” “They do,” He bobs his head in thought, “Not a whole ton but Bear Clans are very spiritual and keep many records of Witch Alchemy.” He leads me to a section in the back and shows me a bookshelf of old and dusty books that look like they haven’t been touched in centuries. If at all. “Knock yourself out, let me know if I can be of any help.”

com How to Avoid Death on a Daily Basis Currently available: Book 1: Welcome to Probet Book 2: Welcome to Fengarad Book 3: Welcome to Dargot Book 4: Welcome to Monsterland Book 5: Welcome to Nekromel Book 6: Welcome to Requbar Coming soon: Book 7: Welcome to Gorgoth From the same author: Entertaining Tales of Grin the Cheat

Raff starts. “I know. I should have told you last night or maybe this morning, but Rafferty Maellan Verdante Addams, you have no right to go through my things and read my spell book!” Willow shouts. Raff looks shocked at the accusation and a bit scared. “Woah there princess! No one went through your things or read your spell book. Just hear Raff out, then you can explain what your spell book has to do with you being more fae than we thought,” Aiden says, stepping to block Raff from her wrath if she unleashes it.

She pushed that down deep, sipping from stored bags in the fridge. Rain hammered the windows that Tuesday night. Lydia sat at her desk, sorting through a box of new books. One caught her eye: Spirits of the Wild: Bindings and Releases. The cover was cracked leather, smelling like dirt and old forests. She flipped it open, her fingers brushing over faded words in some ancient tongue. "Just a peek," she told herself. Curiosity burned in her chest. She read the spell aloud, soft and quick, like testing a locked door. The air changed. It got heavy, like before a storm. Candles on the shelves flickered wild, shadows dancing on the walls. A rumble started low, from the book itself. Lydia's hands s

He pounced on my lips like his life depended on it. just few minutes ago, he left because I told him I was a virgin; why the sudden change of mind? I was lost in my thoughts, not even aware that I was on the bed. The tingling sensation and desires slid through my veins. I held his hand as he reached for my panties. "You don't want me. Why did you suddenly change your mind? You left when I told you I was a virgin?"

“Smart. Hide it in habit. That’s how they trained young minds.” “Any major standouts?” I asked. Andy nodded, a little too fast. “The history section.” I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” “It’s not just world history. I found timelines on werewolf wars, vampire treaties, coven migrations, hybrid purges… and something that looks like pantheon lore. Like, actual accounts of god and goddess activity.” My lips parted. “Say that again?” He pulled a thin volume off the top of a growing pile and handed it to me. The title was in an old dialect—one I could read only because of the Goddess blood thrumming in my veins. Divine Imprints: The Last Age Before Silence.

My hand slid down his chest slowly, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt, before boldly palming the growing bulge in his pants. Nate sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ve read your books, Nate,” I whispered, my voice husky and desperate as I stroked him through the fabric. “I know you write about girls who beg to be taken. Who want to be used. Fucked. Ruined…. raped!! I read that chapter so many times I lost count… the one where the man takes her even when she pretends to fight. You can’t lie and say you don’t know some girls crave that.”

We never went back to normal, and honestly, none of us wanted to. That wild night changed us all. Some secrets don’t destroy you, they open doors you never knew existed. The End

“You are joking, right?” “I have never joked about business.” My smile slowly disappeared from my face. “So who is the unlucky woman?” I asked, and Dad turned the folder toward me, and two names stared back at me. Elizabeth Lancaster was beside my name. “Out of every woman in New York, you picked Elizabeth Lancaster?” “Why? Is there something wrong with her?” he asked, and I shook my head. There was this one time, she had threatened to shove my birthday cake down my throat after I called her ‘Cupcake’ in front of half the school.

Peaceful. Vespera Hale walked along the mahogany shelves, trailing her fingers over the spines of the books. Philosophy. Strategy. History. She stopped. On a shelf at eye level, nestled between The Art of War and a first edition of The Count of Monte Cristo, was a book she didn't recognize. It had no dust jacket. The binding was matte black, textured like volcanic rock. The lettering on the spine was silver, sharp and angular. SAVAGE REBORN.