Achilles Heel Novels & Stories

"Achilles -" "Let us not talk about this," He cut in, ignoring the way he wished he could shake sense into her as well.

If her husband's reputation didn't matter, she would have thrown in these pricey shoes to keep any rodents out of their home. "These shoes are called stilettos; they are lovely, pricey heels that give women an exquisite appearance." He indicated a shoe box that belonged to him but not to his wife. "I could care less. What? My leg hurts right now." She complained as she massaged her swollen, red ankles, but before she could finish, she fell. Fortunately, she did not dislocate her ankle, but she still had to give up one of her ankles. The gel that had been heated in the oven was in Davino's hand as he gripped Safira's ankle angrily. He applied slow, deliberate pressure.

All this time, I thought I always knew everything happening inside my body, but his question caught me off guard. "Cethe, it's your tailbone," he shared. "Tailbone?" "Healers die when your tailbone is affected. Your neck is the softest part that is connected to it, and that's why you die." I inadvertently rubbed my finger on my back, wondering if I had ever damaged my tailbone before. Healers have a much sturdier back and spinal cord to support our wings, so I guess we are less likely to harm them. "If it's the tailbone, it's possible," I mumbled while slightly agreeing with what Winston said. "It's understandable that no one discovered that our tailbone was our actual weakness, but how can

Faster. Hazz passed one of his hands on my belly and moved minimally away from my body, supporting part of his weight on his elbow. I don't know at what moment my feet thought they were free of the heels I wore, but somehow, when I rubbed my heel still footwear with long needles of the heel against his calf, wanting a greater contact than that, Hazz did not bother to accept my silent request, nor did he move my foot away.

NO! Braxius and Achilles clash. Both men are mighty warriors, but I can surmise Achilles lives for war. Braxius is not thinking, lost in the pain of his older brother's death. His emotions are making his moves wild and sloppy. Achilles is only toying with Braxius, taking in the delight that he understands he's about to kill another prince. Over my dead body! Without any thought, I run over to the two fighting men. Remembering my soccer days from my youth, I perform a perfect slide in the grass behind Achilles. Then, I use my sword to slice the tendon right about his heal. The one that is named after him.

Christian Louboutin. My breath hitched. The heels I had been wearing when I fell were ruined, the leather scuffed and one heel snapped clean off. These were... an upgrade. A massive upgrade. There was a card tucked into the tissue paper. Heavy stock, embossed with a simple monogram: L.C. I noticed your heel broke. Unacceptable for Seattle terrain. I expect to see them in use at lunch tomorrow. 1:00 PM. The Aurelia. Below that, a phone number.

There is still tingling pain in her Achilles and that’s normal. “I am so glad that Mr. Geoffrey is quick witted to notice my struggle,” she said staring at the reddish mark on her Achilles. “It’s not that I am quick witted at all times,” Geoffrey murmured. He knelt in front of her. When she saw him suddenly kneeling on the floor, she felt the smile slipped from her eyes, lips and fell complete off her face. “You are the only person I am looking, that’s why I can notice every single details.”

or coming up on her blind side as she reached for them. Sometimes being height-challenged was a b*tch, she thought as she began to limber up her body, the familiar stretches coming naturally as she focused solely on the mission ahead.

He took the first step down. His cheap, rubber-soled shoes slapped against the bare concrete. Smack. Smack. The sound echoed loudly, mocking him. By the fortieth floor, his forearm muscles began to lock up entirely. He had to violently shift his grip, the rough cardboard grinding against his open wounds. Dark spots danced rapidly in his vision.

Issa replied. "We have no permanent place, we are nomads!" The man roared in a voice wracked with agony. Issa nodded to Jamal. Jamal leaned closer to the man. "You are not giving satisfactory answers, and we have a long night ahead of us." Jamal reached for the knife stuck in the man's thigh. "See, this knife is stuck in the largest vein in your leg. It's called the sciatic nerve and it's very sensitive." Jamal locked his gaze with the man.