Vlad Book Novels & Stories

“Give me your top five.” “You’re torturing her, Alexei,” Xander chuckles. “I know,” Alexei admits. “It’s fun.” I shake my head at the retired Bratva boss. “What’s your favorite book?” “The Art of War,” he answers without hesitating. “Why am I not surprised,” I mutter. “Would you like something to drink?” Viktor asks me. “Ahh…what do you have?” “Everything.” “A glass of wine would be nice. Semi-sweet?”

I didn't know whether it was because the doctors at Vladislav’s mansion refused to let me eat anything other than bland veggies and boiled chicken while I was healing. “Psychopath,” I muttered, chewing. When I was done, I rinsed the bowl and placed it back into the fridge, just to spite him, and wandered toward his bedroom. The place looked like an advertisement for minimalism— white sheets, chrome accents, everything sterile and symmetrical. I launched right unto the bed, boots staining the white sheets instantly. A perfectionists nightmare. Then I found a book on his nightstand: The Art of War. I laughed, a soft, humorless sound.

Since there was a throne, a Vlad has sat in it. Carpathia is more or less the Carpathian Mountains. There are a lot of stories that come from my part of the world, most of which demonize or fancify my kind depending on which you hear. We aren’t undead or damned. In some ways, it does feel like we are cursed, but that’s just personal shit.

All throughout the day, Viva planned her next attack in Rozralas and how to get Hiro. ***** Zinedine House: "What? Please don't tell me it's my Vlad?" Lia asked hoping Rozralas was just pulling her legs. "How many Vlad do you know in all your life on earth?" "Don't bring that up, you know what I mean." "I just told you it's your crush and you are still asking me." "How is it my crush? He isn't a Millennium, he is just a Vampire." "Not just an ordinary vampire, A Vampire King," Rozralas reminded Lia.

Igor asked while looking at Vlad's collection of books. "The thing is you came!" Vlad crossed his legs with a mischievous smirk. "You are that man whom I can't underestimate... What is it, Volkov?" Igor sat in front of him. "You know what I want." Vlad poured a drink for him. Igor accepted the drink and leaned back. "You know it's impossible... I can't make you the King when you are an illegitimate child. Liliana being my first born and biological child deserves the throne..."

RYLAN'S POV I pushed away from the shelves, walking briskly over to the desk situated in the middle of the room. On top of it was an endless pile of old books and I was starting to hope they weren't as useless as the others. My fingers quickly thumbed through the hard covers in search for the one that matched Vlad's description; dirty brown and worn out. As I looked around, I realized almost all the books were the same. Dirty and worn out on all four corners. It was almost an impossible search.

The Lord’s hands were up to the elbows in blood, and the entire perimeter of the floor of the room was covered with scarlet liquid. Vladyka did not immediately realize that he was no longer alone. A faint splash distracted the king's attention. Frozen for a moment, Vragenn turned sharply and met his gaze with bottomless, dark eyes without pupils. They reminded him of the night sky during the new moon. The pale face was hidden by short, uneven strands of black hair.

While Vlad sat at the desk to resume the paperwork, Elena walked to the other side of the room, where an enormous bookshelf occupied almost the entire wall. The shelves stretched from floor to ceiling. She slowly ran her fingers over the titles, feeling the texture of the spines, reading names in different languages. Classic literature. Philosophy. History. Some volumes seemed... very old. Her eyes then settled on a specific title. A novel about vampires. She carefully pulled it out and examined the cover with curiosity. She turned and walked to the sofa near the fireplace. Sitting comfortably, she stretched out her legs. "I’m going to read this one..." Vlad lifted his eyes from the desk.

“Tell me something—are you really staying out of this? You have a claim to the inheritance too.” “Not a chance. A body like that shouldn’t be wasted on just one woman—especially one that plain and dim.” Stas ran a hand through his carefully styled fair hair and smiled with lazy arrogance. “Good thing I don’t care,” Vlad replied, pulling the door open. “There’s too much money on the line. I wouldn’t give a damn if I had to wake up next to a wicked old witch every morning.” The door shut behind him. He opened his umbrella and made his way toward the car.

"Just tell me." Ivy is used to Cela's lack of emotion. As her editor, she's mastered handling her so well. "Your second book is selling faster than the first one. Only three branches of the bookstore have not confirmed the final sales yet as of 5PM today but the other seven already did!" she told the first good news. "Really?" Cela asked in a casual tone but a smile shortly appeared on her face after realizing she's having a back-to-back success.