Quent_Was I Yours?_Storm in the House_Inferno of Vengeance
Catalog Guide:
Quent
That’s the thing about this city, it changes people. No one who comes into this city ever walks out the same. It has a way of messing with minds, making us believe one thing, but in actuality, it’s the exact opposite. Some of us choose to stay just because we don’t want to deal with the drawback if we left. That’s the other thing, it’s like a drug. You can never get enough, but you try anyway. You become addicted to this city....... This is the city of Quent, in the state of Lazbirt, in the country of Fretgy. It’s not a normal city, and it’s not a magical city either like it’s twin, Zuent...
Was I Yours?
We were little. Frail. Small beings with bright enough sparks to make him want to dim them. Sure, the terrifying past somehow aligned our narrow existences together and we wouldn’t be anything we are today without his rough, manipulative molecular hands. Before our little bright opticals we stared into the pinnacle of what he called improvements, things that could (but he firmly believed would) change us eventually into something borderline...perfection. I can’t say I believed him. But, I digress. Why wonder aloud, why speak nonsensical whims of what could have been when we’re here in the now...
Storm in the House
When the house alarm went off at 3 a.m., Lily was already awake. She couldn’t sleep when the winds came up at night and made the oak trees around her house twist and groan. The storms that had started the day after Christmas were still pummeling Northern California, with several more lined up over the Pacific. After years of drought, the hillsides and highways of the San Francisco Bay Area were especially vulnerable as storm after storm pounded the already watewww.onedoor.ccrlogged landscapes. In Lily’s neighborhood in Oakland, the city’s eponymous oak trees were everywhere, and some had already lost their ...
Inferno of Vengeance
Under a sky ablaze with the fading embers of the setting sun, Rafael stood upon the parched earth, his gaze affixed upon the distant mountains. The desert wind whispered its secrets, laden with the scent of blood and the cries of the fallen. Hatred brewed in the deepest recesses of his heart, fomenting a thirst for retribution that could not be quenched.Rafael had once known a different life, filled with the laughter of children and the touch of a woman who had shared his bed and his soul. But that was before the men came, their faces hidden behind masks of leather and iron, riding horses blac...