Willows Library Novels & Stories

I turned, waited for Baxter to push Grams and her wheelchair into the room. Willow was standing at the edge of the bed, cheeks as pink as an unprotected sunburn. Her fingers fidgeted with the lapel of her robe. Her weight shifted from foot to foot. A hesitant smile pulled at her deliciously pinkened lips. "Grams, this is Willow Chase. I'm keeping her," I said in lieu of an official introduction. Willow gave a quick wave. "Hi." She stayed where she was as she gnawed on her bottom lip.

In the garden, Willow and Arianna talked about many things as they walked through, potted violets and bright daffodils, amongst other flowers, enjoying their scents and beauty and while Arianna seemed to see that Willow wasn't exactly a bad person but still didn't want to marry him, Willow on the other hand was very charmed by Arianna, especially by her looks and those captivating eyes. They talked about trivial topics, this time he didn't talk about manly things like; politics and war, he listened to her, though Arianna hardly said much. But she had to agree, he was a good company, but only that. "So of all places to calm yourself, why the library?"

"I intend on getting close enough to watch the life drain from her eyes. She killed my father, corrupted Henry and used my DNA to turn herself into a monster and that's before we even get to the utter terror she inflicted on you and your innocent child." Willow nodded, before reeling off a list of simple kitchen ingredients. All of us moved at once, flooding towards the double cedar wood doors of the dusty library and racing down the winding staircase towards the kitchen, eager to finally have a weapon for our war. Finally, we had hope, we had a chance. We knew who and what we were fighting and how to stop her. "Is there a fire?" Will laughed as we stampeded towards him. He was draped over a

And that’s how Naomi will learn what it means. When I got back to the office, Willow was waiting for me. Sitting at my table, legs crossed, a smile that hid more poison than perfume. "You are thoughtful," she said. "Business." "Business has a name." She bowed, drawing her face closer. "And this one is called Naomi, right? Maybe Lancelot." I stared at her for a few seconds, then smiled. Willow never knew when to shut up. "Don’t worry about Naomi." "I don’t worry. But the council does. And the wolves talk, Casper. You’re in the crosshairs."