What Happens In The Portable Faulkner'S Most Famous Story?

“Forgive me, Father… for I’m about to sin again.” "Get on your knees and take my cock like it’s your only salvation. Hold it like you held your rosary tight, desperate. Suck it like it’s the only prayer left to save your filthy soul." She’s temptation wrapped in innocence. And I’m a sinner beneath this collar. ~~~~~~ When Mia Voss escapes heartbreak and moves in with her grandmother, the last thing she expects is to fall for the man behind the altar. Reverend Thorne Maddox—quiet, composed, and dangerously handsome—sees right through her walls.And she sees what he's trying to hide.Their encounters are supposed to be innocent, church duties, quiet confessions, polite conversation. But glances linger too long. Words slip too close to sin. And when she falls into his arms… it stops being holy.In a town full of watching eyes and sacred vows, desire becomes the ultimate sin. But the deeper they fall, the harder it becomes to let go. Where salvation ends… temptation begins. ❕ ❕Trigger/Content Warnings:This story contains themes of religious conflict, age gap, power imbalance, sensual scenes, and morally gray decisions. Reader discretion is advised 100% Sex ❕

I was the only female carpenter in town, and I made caskets at cost price for anyone in the area who needed one. Everyone said I was generous, kind-hearted, the whole routine. Then one afternoon, Doug Hadley showed up at my shop with his wife Trish Grady and a handful of neighbors to order a cremation urn. Trish stared at the price tag. "An urn for only 50 dollars? What is this, scrap wood?" Doug shot her a look. "Don't run your mouth about things you don't understand. It's solid ebony. Bridget makes them herself, so it's cheaper." Trish snickered behind her hand. "Solid ebony? That might fool someone who doesn't know any better. My cousin runs a funeral supply shop, so trust me, I know what I'm looking at. This isn't ebony. It's plywood. It's five dollars' worth of material, tops. "I can take you all to my cousin's place. I'll make sure he gives us a deal." The neighbors were already nodding. "The urn's supposed to last a hundred years. Obviously, I want the best for my mom." "Selling plywood and calling it ebony... You ought to be ashamed." "Come on, let's all go to Trish's cousin. I'm not giving her the chance to make dirty money off any of us." Dirty money? As far as I knew, mine was the only shop in town that actually stocked real ebony. Everyone else used MDF. If they were not afraid of the thing falling apart, they were welcome to go for it.

Mom buys a four-thousand-dollar laptop for my sister, Scarlett Lowine, when we're shopping for school supplies. Dad chooses a luggage bag for her while my brother, Christopher Lowine, buys a pair of noise-cancelling headphones for her. My childhood friend, Jasper Greeson, crouches in front of a shelf, comparing eye-caring desk lamps with a serious look on his face. "Gabby has bad eyes. This lamp's brightness is perfect for her." A warm sensation spreads through my chest. However, the feeling only lasts for a few seconds before Jasper places the lamp in Scarlett's shopping cart. "Be sure not to tire yourself out when you're doing revisions at night, Scarlett," he says, smiling. I stand on the side with my empty shopping cart, feeling like an outsider who's just responsible for watching over their bags. "Aren't you going to buy your supplies too, miss?" the cashier asks. Mom seems to only remember my existence then. She frowns as she looks at me and asks, "Your things are still working, right? They're fine as long as you can use them during university." I look down at the note app on my phone. For the past year, I've written down a list of things that I want to buy for university, including a laptop, bed drapes, a desk lamp, a luggage bag, a pair of sneakers, and more. I've also noted down the price for every item. However, nearly every item on the list has been crossed out. They tell me that Scarlett has a weak constitution, so they need to take care of her. They tell me that it's fine for me to endure a little hardship because I have good results. But they don't know that I've already used my scholarship money to buy a plane ticket to another city. As they pack Scarlett's luggage bag until it's bursting, I'm finally going to erase every trace of myself from this family.

My grandmother is, as far as the law is concerned, a dead woman. She faked her own death so she could go off with the boy she'd grown up beside, and she left evidence behind that made my grandfather her killer. He went away for twenty years. She sold his house and ran to Port Halcyon with the other man. One of them became a famous attorney who talks about justice in courtrooms. The other became a philanthropist who talks about compassion under television lights. My grandfather carried the word wife-killer for the rest of his life. My father grew up on whatever the neighbors could spare. He never spent a day in school, and he wore his hands raw laying brick until he'd put me through college. Two generations, two pairs of ruined hands, lifting me one step at a time out of Pinebarrow. Fifty years after my grandmother's fake death. I sit on the felony bench of the Dunstone Superior Court. In front of me are five young women charged in a murder. The case against the first four is airtight. Against the fifth, there's half a fingerprint at the scene and a witness who accounts for her entire night. Even the police call her the least likely of them. The murder charge won't hold. I go through her file. Under family, there's a name. Evelyn Harrow. My grandmother. I look at how much the two of them resemble each other. And when her lawyer moves to have her released from this courtroom a free woman, I bring the gavel down lightly. "This court denies the defense motion for dismissal. This court further recommends that the district attorney formally charge the defendant with murder."

Claire married Nathan because her father owed his family a debt he could not pay. Nathan never wanted her, he called her a burden in his own house. When he throws her out one stormy night, accusing her of betrayal, he does not know she is carrying his child. Years later, Claire returns to Chicago, not as the timid wife he remembers, but as a woman who built her own life from nothing. Nathan wants her back, but this time, forgiveness will not come easy.

To support my wife, Natalie Strickland, in her work, I stayed behind in our first-floor apartment during the hurricane, caring for our son, Tyler, as he burned with a high fever. But as the director of the neighborhood committee, Natalie gave our family's last remaining life buoy to her childhood friend, Hayden Walker, on the tenth floor. When I confronted her about how unfair it was, she snapped at me over the phone. "Emerson, you're my husband. You should put the bigger picture first. Our family has to set an example. "Hayden's situation is different. He's raising his daughter alone, and she has asthma. Both professionally and personally, they have to be our priority." Once again, I let her convince me with her talk about the greater good. Then the floodwaters swallowed the first floor. Holding my barely breathing son in my arms, I frantically called the emergency command center. The dispatcher apologized before delivering the news, "Sir, Director Strickland listed Mr. Hayden Walker and his daughter in the first evacuation group. You and your son were assigned to the final group." I looked down at my son as the last traces of breath faded from his tiny body. My heart filled with despair. "System, I accept your offer to leave this world with my son." 'Natalie, Tyler and I will never need you to save us again.'