Amber Rose Johnson Novels & Stories

she said as she cat walked out. “I’m sorry about that my lady, that’s the way she is” Anna apologize “You don’t need to, it isn’t your fault. You can go back to your duties I will love to stay a little longer here” Amira said There was a seat just by the roses, so Amira sat down and watched the roses with so much awe. She got lost in her thoughts she didn’t notice she had company. “They are lovely aren’t they?” Prince Keon asked interrupting her thoughts.

Jones whispered and they both turned there attention to her not sure what she meant. " Yes I had told you that by the next morning Amelia would have passed but she's still alive and miraculously healing in a way we don't understand yet, the main reason we took her out of ICU is be cause she can now breath on her own " Mrs. Jones said with a small smile on her lips. Maggie's lips parted in surprise and then she started crying, it was then that Mr. Rogers walked and turned to Mrs. Jones then at Maggie who was crying.

She’d told Liam she’d find him later. She crossed the room to reach the President. The President of the US who looked lavishing tonight in his tuxedo. Next to his very pregnant wife who was dressed in a black satin Channel maxi dress. Alyssa was eager to meet the New President of DRC. “Mr President,” Richard interrupted their conversation at the sight of her, “this is Alyssa Pope, Secret Service Director and one of my closest advisors.” He introduced her and Diallo shook hands with Alyssa.

"Ama, Mr President is a very particular person. Everyone in the President's mansion should not be looked down upon. So, you must be very careful with your words and actions in this place. I hope you can be meticulous in your job and do your best" When they came out of Nicklaus office, Vickie told Samantha. After all Vickie his personal assistant, so she couldn't make a fool of herself. Besides, Vickie likes her and was part of the people that made her employment a success.

“Thank you for honoring my invitation, Your Highness.” Alpha Kael bowed again, his gaze fixed on me. “And if I may ask, who’s the lady beside you?” I felt Clinton stiffen beside me, but I kept my eyes on Alpha Kael, who was still smiling. With a fake smile plastered on my face, I cooed, “I am Natasha Jones, the King’s distant cousin.” I lied. Alpha Kael hummed, nodding slowly. “You’re welcome to my pack, Lady Natasha.” He bowed dramatically before shifting his attention to Clinton. “Please, have a seat.”

Amelia who was oblivious to it didn't know they were talking about her. The woman walks towards the door of the president's office. She carefully knocked as the president was quite in a bad mood these days after his daughter had died. "Come in," a deep voice said. The woman opens the door and showed a business smile. "Mr. Ivote I have the report about miss Amelia ready," she said in a monotone voice. She laid down the documents on top of the president's table. "Unfortunately, I couldn't find much. Somehow, almost all of the records concerning her were deleted from the country's intelligence. However, I managed to find her school where I hired someone to interview some staff" the secretary ex

Just a few minutes and we reached his House. His house is two stories. There is also an assistant. My friends are really wealthy. “Where’s Wayne?” Ash asked the beautiful woman in her 20’s. Maybe it’s Wayne’s sister. He also has a boy next to her who I think is the one Wayne was referring to who was confined months ago.

she shrugs and turns back to Nixon who takes the tree steps he'd taken up the stairs until he was back on the ground level then walked around her to my side. "Viviana Harper is really my mate" his tone is low sending chills in some uncertain way down my spine. Nixon takes me completely by surprise when he takes my hand in his, sending a wave of sparks and heat up my hand tell its spread through my whole body. I tighten my hold on his hand and give it to small squeezes and if to tell him I've got him and I don't even know what it is I'm trying to give him strength for.

A neighbor found me, called an ambulance. Beverly. That name shot through me like a flare. “Is there someone named Beverly?” I asked. He checked the chart. “No one by that name on your emergency contact list.” “She might’ve been with me.” He shook his head. “You were alone.” The doctor smiled—professional, practiced. “You’re lucky, Jasmine. Whatever stress you were under, your body’s recovering well. We just need to monitor you a little longer.” I stayed in the hospital for three more days.