Amelia Bedelia Quotes Novels & Stories

BLURB: I am Melissa Copper, chosen by the moon goddess as the fated mate of the Alpha triplets. I have always dreamt of being their mate but they cruelly discarded me, choosing my Twin sister Amelia over me at the Alphas coronation ceremony. They have always belonged to her. They despised me, that I know, I have always seen it in their eyes but the mate bond keeps drawing me closer to them. Now, I have decided to leave, to end the whole circus. I begged them to reject me, but they wouldn't do it. They wouldn't let me go… **** “Melissa, Please come back to us!" They all echoed in unison. “We want you…we have always wanted you!” Caleb said softly, his voice trailing off his breath, as he pinned me to the wall. I kept staring at his enticing lips, but I shook my head to get rid of the desires burning within me. “We promise to treat you right!” Cypril said, his breath warm and ticklish against my fingers that he brought up to his lips, as his other hand found its way to the warm spot between my thighs. I clenched my legs together, trying to force out his hands from my thighs but he didn't budge. “You will always be ours. Just come back already!" Cain pleading eyes met mine, as he leaned in pressing a kiss on my lips, his hands tracing the corner of my ear. “No." I said, my voice louder than I had expected it to be, especially with their bodies pressed against mine and their lips creating sparks across my body. “I am not coming back…go back to Amelia.”

Shantali Mae Cross, a security guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Ancient Arts, encounters an impossible phenomenon during her night shift—smoke from the heating vents coalesces into the form of a cobra near ancient Egyptian canopic jars, showing her visions of possible futures. She sees herself accepting a promotion, arguing with a dark-haired man in a hospital, wearing a wedding dress, and standing at a graveside in autumn. Shaken by the experience, Shantali becomes obsessed with understanding what she witnessed, diving into research about serpent smoke divination practices. Her investigation reveals that others throughout history have experienced similar visions at crucial crossroads in their lives, but those who became consumed with interpreting and controlling their prophetic glimpses inevitably destroyed the very relationships and opportunities the visions had shown them. As Shantali spirals deeper into her research, she begins shutting out her boyfriend David, a fellow security guard who loves her deeply. When David witnesses the cobra phenomenon himself, he helps ground her in reality rather than obsession. Through her studies, particularly the warnings left by Dr. Amelia Thorne—a researcher who died alone after chasing similar mysteries—Shantali realizes the cobra's true message: choose love over fear, presence over obsession. The visions weren't warnings of tragedy but glimpses of a life fully lived with all its ordinary struggles and profound connections. When David proposes, Shantali chooses their real relationship over her pursuit of supernatural answers. She completes her research by writing a fictional novel about her experience, transforming obsession into art while helping future cobra witnesses understand that some mysteries are meant to guide rather than be solved. The story explores themes of choice versus destiny, the danger of sacrificing present love for future certainty, and the wisdom of embracing life's uncertainties alongside those who love us.

I am the wife of Anthony Caster, don of the mafia family in New York. When I was nine months pregnant, he brought a woman named Evelyn Graves into the manor, claiming she’d saved his life. That was the day my nightmare began. She put something in my food. Next thing I knew, I was doubled over in pain. And she had the nerve to blame it on me—said I was being reckless with what I ate. She lost her footing and fell down the stairs, but she told everyone I was the one who shoved her. Every day, she’d cry in front of Anthony about how saving him had left her wounded and unable to bear children, how seeing a pregnant woman broke her heart. But the moment she turned to me, the tears were gone, replaced by a cold smile. “As long as I’m here,” she whispered, “your babies will never be born.” Anthony was convinced I was jealous of her. He locked me away in the abandoned attic of the manor and said, “Reflect on your actions and stop bullying Evelyn.” On the first day they shut me in, the contractions began. I screamed, I begged, I banged on the door. The butler heard me and went to inform Anthony. He said, “Amelia, your due date is three days away. Stop putting on an act. Three days in a snowstorm and you came out fine. This? You can handle this.” On the second day, my water broke. I screamed at the top of my lungs, my fingernails digging into the cracks of the wall, blood spilling all over the floor. The butler went to Anthony again. Evelyn said, “Anthony, she’s making all that noise because she wants you to feel sorry for her and let her out. If you give in now, she’ll only grow more reckless later.” He believed her. On the third day, I stopped screaming. Anthony thought I had finally learned my lesson, unaware that I had already died from the difficult labor. When he finally opened that door, all he would find was my rotting, putrid body.