Amanda Tanen Novels & Stories

She explains. I honestly didn’t give the camera a second thought after I realized that I forgot it at the barn. I was worried about getting Gabe to the packhouse and then I was busy trying to take care of him while he recuperated. “I also hear that you helped my little girl too.” She beamed at me. Then she grabbed my hand to examine my palm. How did she know? “It’s alright Hannah, you can trust Christine”, Gabe tells me seeing that I am anxious about this conversation. Christine goes on to explain that she works as a researcher for a nonprofit that was established by a coalition of packs in the area.

Amanda sniffs, picking a few shards of glass out of her hair. We rise together, and I take a moment to look at my friend. I didn’t think I’d ever see her again, not while being tortured by Kane. “How are you?” I ask. Amanda inhales sharply, blinking to clear the tears from her eyes, and then gives me a fox-like smile. “Bored out of my fucking mind. I’ve been hosting tea parties for the wives of the commanders since I returned to Veiled Valley. That’s literally all I’ve done. They believe I’m about to become Luna and have been trying to weasel their way into my good graces.” She arches a copper brow at me. “You still plan on being Luna, right? The last time I saw you and Ryatt together, you w

He gave her one of his million- or should she say, billion-dollar smiles. "I insist." She glanced at Peter, who was wide-eyed and tilted his head toward the seat. "Thanks," she said, sliding back into her chair. Amanda cleared her throat and turned to Peter. She wears designer glasses, and her lips always pursed. "That's her, Mr. Patterson?" Peter nodded. "Correct. That is Irena Derrick. She is one of the best reporters I have had in years." Amanda's smug gaze swept over Irena, and for a moment, Irena felt exposed.

Observing the interaction between Morris and Eranthe, Amanda couldn't help but think these two were treating her like a fool. Morris frowned at Amanda, seeing her standing there without reacting. He introduced her, "This is my assistant, Amanda. Miss. Taylor should have met her last time." Eranthe proactively extended her hand. "Hello, Amanda. My name is Eranthe Taylor." Amanda forced a smile, "Hello, Miss. Taylor. I am Amanda Churchill." After the formalities, Amanda scrutinized Eranthe, from her hair to her shoes. Not the latest season's fashion, and the price was probably only a few hundred dollars. The items seemed to be freshly taken out; maybe she dug deep into her closet? The accessor

Ralph for barging in Mr. Ralph nodded in understanding, permitting her to speak. “When you're done, someone else would love to see you..” Amanda's heart skipped at the weight of her words. Someone else??? “Who is it?” Amanda asked curiously. “It's Mrs. Ronaldo. Adrian's mother…” The woman announced. Amanda's eyes went wide and for a moment, she was unable to react and speak.

“Amanda, have you thought about what kind of role you’d like? Since, you know, I’m the owner and CEO, it might help if we know your interests.” Amanda leaned forward, her voice full of confidence. "Actually, I was thinking of a high-level role, like a senior marketing manager or a project director. I know it’s a big ask, but I believe I can handle it." Damien raised an eyebrow, glancing at Seraphina. "Those are pretty big positions, Amanda. What makes you feel ready for that?" Amanda smiled, undeterred. "I've managed big projects before and led teams. Plus, I’m really adaptable. I think I can bring a fresh perspective to your company."

I just searched frozen. She stopped by the dresser and ran her fingers along its edge. “You’re actually beautiful. That’s going to piss off more people than you think. Trust me, there were many bidding on you looking ugly. Some even said that you look like a troll.” I finally found my voice. “And you are…? I'm sorry, but I didn't expect you to come inside my room to just tell me that I looked. Well…” “Madeline,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Second daughter of Beta Reinhart. Technically ranked, practically ignored. I'm more of a subtle kind of woman. I choose to at least lighten the mood. I know that you might be having a hard time.”

"Hey. I didn't recognize the number." "Oh, it's a new work line I had to set up for the boutique," Amanda said, her tone carrying that effortless, vibrant energy she always wore like a shield. Amanda, thirty-eight, a master stylist, and a whirlwind of chic sophistication. She is the only person who could look at my five-foot-eleven frame and know exactly how to drape it in fabric that made me feel like a queen rather than a giant. "Listen, darling, I know it's late notice, but I was just thinking about you, I'm finishing up a styling session near the Upper East Side and I wanted to check in. How are things at home? How is Leonard?"

Amanda sat in her small apartment in Surulere after another long, boring day at the office. Twenty-four years old, with a tight athletic body from years of gym work — perky C-cup tits, a tiny waist that curved out into a fat, juicy ass that made men stare. She was tired. Tired of vanilla boyfriends who lasted five minutes and called it romance. She wanted to be used. Broken. Turned into something less than a person.

“And this must be her.” Ryan smiled. “Celeste, this is Amanda. She’s the pack’s personal shopper and stylist. She’s responsible for making sure our leadership doesn’t embarrass the entire pack with poor clothing choices.” He shot her a dry look. Amanda laughed lightly. “That’s a generous description of my job.” I smiled despite myself. Ryan gestured between us. “Amanda will be taking you shopping today. Not because you have to impress anyone,” he added quickly, his tone firm, “but because you deserve clothes that fit who you are now. Clothes that are yours.”