Washington Crossing Book Novels & Stories

Her breasts bounce up and down as the demon thrusts into her with great force. My attention is diverted to the entry of my throne hall. Josiah and Chelsea strut through the entrance with a human male victim. “Where is my Bridge,” I mandate for response with surging rage that halts the sex going on all around me. They bow their heads as Josiah explains, “Master, we have found the Bridge, but she was taken by the Vampire King and has not left the room he took her to.”

I finish my dinner before diving into the book. The room gets darker after a while and I begin to realise that night has fallen. Sometimes I hear howls erupting from the outside but I’m able to ignore them. Growing up with wolves makes you used to their ways. I’m about halfway with the book when I go take another shower, getting dressed once again in one of Chase’s t-shirts. Then I scamper into bed, taking hold of the books once again. Somewhere through the reading and hearing of howls, I drift off into slumber.

I had learned, in the four years that had brought me from the Marlowe's dinner table to this desk in Washington, that the right things grew at the right pace and that the attempt to rush them produced something that looked like the thing but was not quite it. The book would be what it was going to be. In the meantime there was the framework and the pilot program and Marcus Junior's journal in Baltimore and Adaeze's seven names and the baby who had moved for the first time during the inside view section of a community authorship presentation. And Julian making dinner at the Capitol Hill apartment with the east-facing windows. And the rose resting on the study windowsill in the November light.

Yet now, just like her mother, she chose Luther over me. Leaning against the headboard, Luther smiled and picked Naomi up in his arms. "You're really my sweet girl, aren't you, Naomi?" Willow immediately stepped forward with concern. "How are you feeling? Is your head still spinning?" What a perfect picture of a family of three. A cold laugh escaped my throat as I shook my head, forcing down the dull ache in my chest. Once I picked up my ID and passport, I turned to leave. … After booking my flight, I stared at my phone. The screen showed a departure three days away. I looked up at the full moon hanging in the sky, and my thoughts began to drift.