Novels by Skylar Vandler

DEMETRIASame night, minutes later…I made it home just in time, barely kicking off my shoes at the entrance before Anastasia showed up. The hum of the city outside fades behind the door. The familiar scent of my CHANEL perfume lingering in the living room area wrapped around me like an old friend.My apartment is a two-bedroom and cozy, here in West Hollywood. In the living area, a few potted plants lined the windowsill, their leaves catching the fading light, and illuminating the counter in the kitchen, and the soft, beige couch waiting for me to collapse onto it. I could hear the faint hum of the fridge in the corner of my kitchen. Nothing extravagant, but it felt like home—a quiet corner of the world where I could breathe. As I walked to the kitchen to set out the meal from Nobu, I heard her cheerful, slightly dramatic voice calling my name.“Demetria!” she chirped, stepping inside like she owned the place. I screamed; the place was so quiet before she entered. “Anas! You scared

DEMETRIA “THAT'S AMAZING, CONGRATULATIONS!” Anastasia shrieked, her voice bursting through the phone like a firecracker. “We need to open your red wine and celebrate. I’m not taking no for an answer.”I laughed, grinning so wide my cheeks hurt. Her enthusiasm had that effect-it was impossible to stay calm around her. “Yeah, we'll do that,” I said, my voice bubbling with excitement. “Sure, I'll come over to your house when I get off work,” she said quickly, lowering her voice. I could hear faint chatter in the background-clients, no doubt.“I'll be waiting,” I replied, biting down on my lip to keep from giggling like a teenager.“Okay, see you later, a client just walked in,” she whispered hurriedly before the line went dead. Anastasia’s job as an art curator kept her busy-always on the move, always in heels. I just told her about my contract with Mrs. Whitfield. I didn't mention her name to Anastasia. I'll wait until she comes over and go into details about everything. For now, I’l

MARION I sat in my office, watching the monitor that provided a live feed from The Oceanview Oasis, my second most sought-after resort. From this vantage point, every corner of the grounds was visible: Infinity pools glistening in the California sun, private bungalows tucked away like hidden treasures, and the occasional sight of a celebrity slipping in under a wide-brimmed hat or oversized sunglasses. When I find the right woman for myself, we’ll spend the weekend here.The place was a magnet for actors, musicians, athletes, and high-profile names who wanted to disappear from the spotlight for a while. Privacy was guaranteed here. The security was airtight - my brother Marcel made sure of that. No drone, no camera, no gossip blog could pierce the sanctuary I had built.“Mar,” Cyprian called out as he entered my office, his voice annoyingly casual as always. “We need to talk. I sent you a message, my friend.”“Yeah, I saw it. About what?” I said, not taking my eyes off the screen. O

DEMETRIAArriving at the venue for my client meeting, I scanned the lot for a parking space. Just then, a car backed out, and I slid neatly into the spot. Grabbing my bag, I stepped out and pressed the remote to lock the car. 9:46 a.m. A few minutes left. Remembering Amanda’s instructions, I headed for the front door.The moment I stepped inside, I was struck by the interior. Plush, polished, and dripping with quality. The place buzzed with life - a hum of conversation, clinking glasses, and footsteps - and unlike my bakery, it had the space to seat hundreds comfortably. I couldn’t help but smile. One day, my bakery would be this big.Walking up to the front desk, I approached the Black woman behind it.“Hi, good morning. Welcome to Lido di Manhattan. How may I be of service?” She started.“My name is Demetria Herna - ”“Oh! The Baker, right?”“Yes, I'm the one”. I'm curious, but I refused to ask questions. Let's wait and see....“You're welcome,” she greeted, beaming at me. “Hey, Col

MARION“THE GAMING FLOOR LAYOUT IS FINALIZED,” my project manager said, pointing to the plans of the latest progress. “Electrical work for the slot machine grid starts Monday. The VIP suites will be ready for inspection in two months.”The steady hum of machinery filtered through the glass walls of the temporary conference room overlooking the casino’s steel skeleton. Architects, contractors, investors, and the marketing team were gathered around the blueprint-covered table.“That’s good”. I commented, needing to wrap up this meeting ASAP.“So,” I said, getting up and turning to face the room, “we’ll have a soft opening in four months, followed by a grand launch.”“Mr. Whitfield,” my marketing director began with a small smile, “do you have a name for the casino yet? We’re already halfway through construction - we need it for branding, promotional materials, and licensing paperwork.” She's acting out of character today. As soon as she asked me the question, she fidgeted. I’m curious

DEMETRIA“GIRL, YOUR COOKIES HAD ME MOANING LIKE I JUST ORGASMED!” my dramatic best friend announced, leaning backwards to the kitchen counter.“Anastasia, shut up. I’m not in the mood for your theatrics,” I said, though the laugh in my voice gave me away. “I’m serious, Deme. These flavors are different every time I taste them. What did you put in them this time?”“That’s my special secret recipe,” I replied. “And no, I’m not sharing it with anyone.”“You wound me. I’m your sister in all but blood - your secrets are safe with me, remember?”“Uh-huh. And the second you find my recipe book, you’ll be texting it to half the city.”“Depends… are you making a batch tomorrow?” she teased.“Depends… are you paying triple this time?”“Triple?” She gasped. “That’s emotional abuse. I’m your best customer!”I rolled my eyes, sliding a tray of cookies onto the cooling rack. “You’re my only customer who still owes me from last month.”“That was one time,” she said. “Besides, I pay in love and lo