Zane Author Books Novels & Stories

Why would Maggie’s ancestors want to conjure and evil spirit or raise the dead? Fascinated by the pull of the words on the page, she softly whispered the Bring Forth the Dead Incantation. A cold chill swept over her and her temples throbbed. She carefully placed the ribbon down the interior binding of the pages and closed the book shut. The crystal didn’t look quite so out of place as it lay against the bottom of the pages. In fact, there was so much room between the size of the cover and the size of the pages that crystal tucked right up into the gap when she set the book on end. It was a perfect fit.

I walked out from my apartment, ready to study. I have 3 classes for today and then I'll just go to Jayson's office. "Elsa!" I turned to see Kevin. "Hey Kev, what's up?" I asked. "Uhmm.. do you have that book? The big one and it's green." He said as he tried to remember it. "Yeah I have it, it's the perspective book." "Yes! That on. Do you have it?" He asked. "Yeah, I have it at home. Text me, I can bring it to work later."

NANCY'S POV I was very aware that Zade was likely watching this. Watching me read something that was clearly affecting me. Part of me should probably be embarrassed. The other part—the part that had woken up this morning—found it thrilling. I kept turning the pages, slower now, letting the words sink in like warm honey dripping down my spine. The bodyguard had the heroine pinned against the heavy oak desk in his office, one big hand fisted in her hair, the other yanking her skirt up around her waist. No time for panties—he just hooked them aside with two thick fingers and thrust into her in one brutal stroke. The book described it so raw: the wet slap of skin, her choked gasp, the way her na

Another grab for the book and some food, then I crossed my legs and opened my reading books while I ate my sandwich heartily. "Are you reading that ham again?" I felt Wynn's gaze more than I saw him. "It can't be that interesting." But she could only say that because she didn't read anything but mindless teen magazines. "I am learning. Give it a try, it's good for your future. "

Catalina’s POV. I was making Luca’s bed nice and neat, gently smoothing out the sheets while he was in the bathroom. The room was so still and quiet, which felt really different from all the thoughts racing around in my head. While I folded the blanket and set it neatly on the edge of the bed, I couldn’t help but notice the vanity table nearby. A piece of paper was there, a bit crumpled, with its edges curled from being held tightly. Feeling a bit curious, I picked it up and took a closer look at the drawing. A little boy with dark hair was holding hands with a blonde woman who had a bright, warm smile. A sleek black Maserati stood out in the background. My heart felt heavy.

Terrence took the books from Zane before he could stop him, annoyed as he looked at the titles. “All of these are relationship books,” Terrence said slowly, raising his eyebrow as he looked at the big one about how to romance a woman. “Yeah? So what?” Zane snapped and took the books back angrily. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” Blake said, sounding a bit hurt. “I’m not,” Zane admitted. “Then why the books?” Marcus asked curiously. Zane wasn’t going to let his brothers make him feel foolish for buying self-help books. At least he knew he needed help. Terrence had been lucky to get a wife like Christine, and Blake and Marcus were too busy with work to care about anything except hookin

“I’ll be damned if I’m taken naked again.” She couldn’t explain why she found his comment amusing, but she did. He gave her an odd look at the sound of her faint giggle, but said nothing as he quickly pulled on his clothes. They’d just finished pulling on their boots when a zombie -who had once been a male human- burst out of the brush. For a zombie, its speed was fairly quick, which led them to believe that it was advanced. It completely ignored them as it headed for the deer.

It was where I went when I needed to escape the noise of campus, the hockey team, Kendra’s endless commentary and, lately, one particular six-foot-three problem who seemed determined to occupy every corner of my thoughts. I sat at my usual table with my laptop open, three books spread around me and a half-finished cup of coffee beside my hand. I’d been staring at the same paragraph for the last five minutes, trying to convince myself that I was studying when I heard the chair opposite me scrape against the floor. I looked up. Zane dropped into the seat like he had every right to be there. I blinked. Then I looked at the book in his hand. Then back at him. “What are you doing here?”

Zane nodded, the matter closed, and finished his sandwich. * * * After lunch Zane found the gift shop with the instinct children have for gift shops regardless of how well concealed they are, and Marcus, without being asked and without looking at me for confirmation, said yes when Zane held up a book about deep sea creatures that was considerably more detailed than the one he already had. Zane said, "Thank you, Marcus," with the careful courtesy my mother had built into him, and then, after a moment, said, "Is it alright if I call you something else."

She simply nodded, as though she knew exactly what I was planning to do, and somehow, that small gesture became the strength I needed. Without allowing myself another chance to retreat, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. I stopped in horror. Almighty Goddess. Zane’s room was trashed. Broken glass glittered across the floor near the fireplace, books lay scattered everywhere, the curtains had been half-ripped from their rods, and furniture sat crooked as though a storm had torn through the room. My gaze swept across the destruction before finally landing in the darkest corner of the room. Zane sat on the floor with his knees drawn tightly against his chest. His head rested against the