Abigail Spellings Novels & Stories

“A writer knows how to weave words into a masterpiece, and I must say, I’m quite moved by your description. I’ve never thought of it that way. Good to know there are still people who see the best in everyone.” She smiled, and the sight of it almost melted me. It was pure and genuine and beautiful. “What’s your name?” “Adonis Vitale.” She knitted her brows and admitted, “I feel like I’ve heard that name before.” “I would’ve loved hiding my real identity, but you could always find out some other way. What's your name?” “Abi. Abigail Morello.” Her last name made my heart double its pace. She seemed familiar. Did she perhaps resemble Elias Morello? I shook my head. It couldn’t be. There was noth

All he could do was sit on the throne, have feasts, and whore around—not a king, a nobody. Abigail. She was more than ten years younger than her husband and went out of her way to take care of herself. She had thick black hair, a rat-like face, even if a pretty one, a thin figure—but with all the necessary curves—and wore a magnificent blue dress the same color as her eyes. Inside, however, she was a venomous slut, like a parasitic ivy that attached itself to a person, draining them of their strength, and enveloping them in its deadly embrace—a sundew, a flytrap. Both stared at me with different expressions on their faces.

an evil smile curls on my face, as I shut the door looking at my father and uncles, “I plan to enjoy this very much.” I turn and glare at the man, “what is your name?” He stutters, “Beta, Beta Charles? I scoff, “you are not honorable enough for the title Beta, your name is just Charles.” His eyes fall to the floor, “Alpha Abigail, let me explain, please, it’s not what you think?”

She laughed, which was music to my ears. "And you can call me Abbi or Ab's. My mother is the only one who calls me Abigail, usually when I was misbehaving as a kid." She had relaxed around me fully over lunch; she had the most feminine tone to her voice; I wondered how I had missed it yesterday. "Ab's it is!" I acknowledged proudly, smiling inwardly at my wolf, currently prancing back and forth in my head, repeatedly saying her name.

She puts her hand out for me to take. “Hello faith Im Abigail Abby for short Im Atticus’s sister it’s a pleasure to finally meet you” When I take her hand I can feel I strong energy swirling around her it isn’t the usual witches energy though it has a different imprint to it. “Nice to meet you Abby the pleasure is all mine. I take it you are a seer”

Abigail felt awkward and explained instantly, “I think you have mistaken. I am here only for work purposes and to assist Ms Sara as a helper. Nothing more. So, it will be best if you and all people can simply call me only Abigail, without any title, as I don’t own that anymore.” Her words were simple and straight, showing that the past is already gone, and now she is just Abigail. The maid felt stunned to hear that, but soon nodded in understanding, “Alright, Ms Abigail. I will make sure everyone knows that.” “Thanks_” Abigail wanted to say, but she didn’t know her name and paused. The maid smiled briefly, “It’s Martha, Ms Abigail.” “I see. Thank you, Martha.” Abigail nodded.

she gasped, looking up at the mother witch, quite overwhelmed. Abigail looked up at her, "of course I know that and relax,” she eased, “we are not doing any spells from it, but we need it as a reference for this other spell to work, " she replied before looking back down at the small book flipping till she reached the middle of the book.

She knew she would be next. Finally, Mrs. Mia turned her attention to Abigail, who stood up straight, a mixture of excitement and apprehension swirling in her chest. “I'm Abigail," she announced proudly, her voice carrying across the room. "Abigail Huxley. I love to play the piano and want to be a great pianist like my mom.” Mrs. Mia's lips curled into a subtle, knowing smile—a smile that sent a shiver down Abigail's spine even though she was still a small kid.

She laughed cynically. "Wait….. you're planning to……?" Matilda was slowly connecting the dots. "Miguel never rejected Vivian and Vivian never rejected Miguel too. They are still true mates with a real mate-bond." Abigail laughed to herself. Her plan was finally back on track and she couldn't be happier. She was The mistress of conspiracy, Abigail could manipulate absolutely anything into her favour. "Get ready, Matilda. It's about time I paid a visit to my stepdaughter."

"And I needed to know this because..?" "Because, Miss Kingsley... Actually, can I call you Abigail?" I try to short the distance between us and be more friendly, but I guess she's not in the mood for making friends. "No, it's Miss Kingsley for you. I don't allow anyone to call me Abigail. After all, I didn't build this name for nothing." She clicks with tongue and shoots me a challenging look. "Oookay, whatever. I told you this, Miss Kingsley because I want to work with you. I think we can be in each other's favour."