Velvet Crowbar Novels & Stories

The study is nothing like the rest of the penthouse. It’s darker, more enclosed, the walls lined with shelves full of books that don’t look decorative. Hardcovers with worn spines. Titles that suggest strategy, history, economics. The desk is heavy wood, solid and unadorned, its surface neat to the point of severity. Papers are stacked in precise piles. A leather notebook lies open beside a crystal tumbler, amber liquid catching the light. And next to it, unmistakable even at a glance, is a gun.

She took out a gun and aimed it at his head. She was about to pull the trigger when a flash of purple whizzed past her and she doubled over to the ground. "Violet!" the scarlet speedster spoke as the other speedster was then standing next to him and helping him up. Violet and Crimson—the two speedsters that Carol had identified back at Carter•Labs and it turned out that the speedster killer had caught up to them. "I'm guessing the plutonium's safe since we are all still standing?" said Crimson to Violet.

I looked down at her, my face inches from hers, letting her feel every bit of the monster she had tried to flee. ​"Listen to me, Velvet," I hissed, the nickname sounding like a threat. "I have spent my life making sure no one touches what is mine. And you are the most precious thing I own. Do you have any idea what I had to do in that alleyway while you were playing 'escape artist'?" ​She tried to twist her wrists, a small, futile whimper escaping her lips. "Xavier, stop—"

She rummaged through boxes filled with forgotten memories, her heart racing with anticipation. Her fingers brushed against a worn leather journal, its edges frayed and its cover adorned with a beautiful emblem—a symbol she recognized from the stories Aunt Cleo had told her about the coven. As she opened it, the musty scent enveloped her, and the words seemed to whisper secrets of a time long past.

cried Mars, in a voice that frightened everyone, as his black veins reappeared and his lenses became very dark. But Darkle, not afraid, held his hand to do their job, they pulled out an old woman who was terrified Mars' eyes became red and black as he stared at his frightened companion Can he face an entire herd? “I am ready to kill your flock one by one for my companion, and you are the first, do you know this?” With a hiss, he said, taking slow steps towards Darkle, who was staring at him coldly

Eli stood in front of the dressing table, still wrapped in a soft towel from the bath. His body felt clean but tired, the warm water having washed away layers of dirt, blood, and exhaustion from the long night. The platinum collar around his neck caught the soft bedroom light, gleaming quietly. He reached out and picked up the prominent black velvet box that sat on the table. It felt heavy in his hands. The new crest engraved on the lid a stylized V intertwined with an R made his breath catch.

Curling his lip at the men, he added, “Especially, not to the likes of them. I know this man is Bratva and if you are with him that means you are that or worse. You are all a bunch of criminals and the worst that has ever blackened Russia’s soil.” Sergi stepped forward and acknowledged himself. “My name is Sergi Constantine. I am the head of the Bratva in Russia.” He motioned at Felix. “This is Braaken, my counterpart in the Ukraine. The rest of these men work for us here on American soil.” Dexter snorted. “Like I said, I don’t care who or what you are. You are all lowlifes, murderers and thieves.” “You’d better have a care Mr. Pavel,” Braaken warned the other man. “Your fate is now in our h

She must not care about getting out of here in one piece! "You wretched woman, how dare you...," Marcus snarled, grabbing Serena's wrist. "You're nothing but trash, already used up by my uncle. I wouldn't even bother with leftovers like you!" Serena remained unfazed. "If I'm so beneath you, then why don't you let go?" Wayne, fueled by the alcohol, had his judgment clouded by that slap. "I'm not letting go, so what are you gonna do about it?” "Marcus, do you want to lose that hand of yours?" Damien's lazy voice drifted over from the direction of the stairs. His tone was calm but carried a hint of warning.

Her smile, laced with blood, looked haunting. A Haunt swept in, scattering the cash and gold bars from the car. Sparks flew, and the flames roared to life with a loud whoosh. I pulled a gold bar from my pocket. "Hear me, infant spirits, it's time for our final showdown!" The winds howled as I watched my mom wail in despair. Her tears were for her wealth, not a shred of worry for me. I spun around and plunged into the swirling darkness without a second thought.

“I have taken over as leader of Stark Growlers and I am not alone. My brother Carter is with me and we are working on fixing the problems in the pack. Aside from us, Daxton Cruz, the leader of Crimson Fang, is here to assist us.” “Wait, you are going to help?” Gregory’s eyes widened. “We are going to do more than just help.” I glanced around the area for something to write with. “Do you have a pen and piece of paper?” “Here.” Gregory reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a blue ink pen and a miniature notepad.