Abigail Spellings Novels & Stories

I closed the door and gestured for her to take a seat, and I sat down next to her. “What’s on your mind, Stella?” She bit her lip as she weighed her words. Whatever she wanted to ask was either important to her or made her unsure of whether it was appropriate or not to ask. “What was Abigail’s gift?” she asked. “She was able to compel others to do what she wanted. Even Alpha’s command couldn’t be used on them. She was a hybrid, so the magic she had also protected her mind from being commanded as well. Why do you ask?”

“They might be scared of you, Oswald, but I’m not!” “You really should be!” Isabelle shook her head and looked very sympathetic. “You just don’t understand do you, Oswald. I’m not just any old member of the Brethren. I’m the main man…if you’ll pardon the expression.” She ran her hands down her body and gave the most horrible leer that Alice had ever seen in her life. David ignored it. David took another step forward and Belinda saw Isabelle lift a foot, as if about to take a step backward. The foot was placed back down on the surface and she knew then that he/she/it had wanted to retreat but didn’t want to lose face.

He smiled, flashing us his pearly white teeth. “Eloise Sage. Never thought Victor’s daughter will make a comeback.” “Rivers.” He furrowed his brows, “Excuse me?’ “I go by Rivers, not Sage.” I corrected. He nodded in understanding, then looked at Abbie. “And this lovely lady is?” he raised his brows. I noticed Abbie’s cheeks turn pink, her eyes still lowered on the ground. “Abigail.” She whispered, her voice coming out soft. My brows raised. Since when does she speak so softly?

Abigail's eyes filled with tears as she nodded her head in acceptance. Though Abigail went by Abby in school, I had never called her anything but Abigail. I loved her long name and it was all I would ever call her. She had very few old friends by then that still called her Abby. I introduced her as Abigail, and she started using her full name at work too, and so on. She had been Abigail since we'd been together. So, our daughter was Abby.

She might have gone a bit overboard with all the wall of texts she was sent him. "Miss Woodtriche!" Abigail turned now, at the call of her new name. She had become accustomed to it, when her dad had simply introduced her as his daughter, and everyone had made the assumption. Abigail had wanted to correct them, but realized that it wasn't the right thing to do. That was her name, that should have been her name, and it would have been, had circumstances been different. She also realized, that it would make for a more cohesive flow of work, if she simply went by that name.

“My name is Abigail Fagh. Daughter of Isabel and Richmond Fagh. The granddaughter of Maudrand Fagh the sixteenth and the heir to the golden throne.” She said calmly while looking at Vera with a straight face. Her eyes were a giveaway her real feelings. Abigail was anxious.

Sophia, even in her absence, sought a continuation of happiness for the one she loved most. Abigail's name leapt from the pages, entwined with expressions of gratitude and admiration. "Abigail has been an incredible friend to both of us," Sophia's words affirmed the bond that had sustained them through the trials of illness. In the inked lines, Abigail's significance radiated as a source of solace and a beacon of potential joy.

Natalie asks me, looking suspicious. “Abigail,” I extend my hand, and she takes it, gives it a light squeeze, closes her eyes and tickles my hand, “Is something wrong?” “You are her cousin.” She knew, and I don't know how. I remove my hand, and she looks embarrassed, “Nice to meet you, Abigail. “I am Natalie, a witch.” “Do you know Liv?” I asked about that girl who didn't come back, and she didn't give me time to ask Damian because she didn't come back.

she said with a stern face. "It’s alright, Matilda. I’m sure she’s very talented. There’s no way someone I took a fancy to would be shabby. Come, let me introduce you to the rest." Some of them gave only a perfunctory smile. Only a girl named Abigail did more. She was blonde-haired and looked very young, around 22. Her smile was pure and innocent. Sophie could tell she was genuine. She was quite talkative, and the two got along immediately.

“Some last-minute changes. Didn’t they tell you?” No. No, they did not. So basically, I fought my chains, ruined my hair, wore this tragic robe, mentally prepared for public humiliation… and for what? “I swear,” I muttered, yanking the robe off and flinging it onto the bed. “This academy is full of shit.” “You’ll enjoy it eventually,” the redhead girl said cheerfully, stepping forward like she hadn’t just watched me unravel. “I’m Abigail and I’m a mermaid.” She said it like she was offering cookies and not casually confessing to being Disney royalty. She stretched her hand toward me, smiling so brightly I almost squinted.