Anais Garnier Novels & Stories

Its result had been quite impressive; the CEO of M&G Designers had personally requested her service. Stepping out of the car, Anaïs paused at the entrance of the complex. The building’s modern designs and reflective glass mirrored her transformation—from a girl burdened by loss and struggles to a woman determined to claim her place in the industry. She took a long breath and walked in alongside her assistant. Outside, within the luxurious confines of a company van, behind its tinted windows, two figures watched with thinly concealed disdain. Agnes, a model whose striking beauty was matched only by her equally enormous ego, sat with her manager. They sat sulking from their failed last-ditch e

Someone whose name hadn’t come up in months. Juliet Hale. Anais stared at the name, stunned. Juliet had been her mother’s friend. A quiet investor. She hadn’t been around since Anais’s engagement to Cassian. “She introduced me to the Vale family,” Anais said slowly. “She told me Cassian was complicated but brilliant.” Irene looked at her carefully. “What if she was grooming you from the start?” Anais felt something cold slip down her spine. That night, Anais returned to the penthouse.

It was a very huge store, with a million dresses, it smelt of fresh roses and pastry. “good day ladies” a tall lady greeted us the moment we walked into the store, she wore a suit and had a pair of spectacles hanging off her nose. “Miss Romero” she added with a smile. “and you must be miss Santiago, Romans fiance”. I smiled at her. It was funny though that her store was named after my fathers name.

Like a garden of pink asters, her face shone brightly in a soft tone of gloss. All smirk and plush, Grace Anslem walked out of her apartment. Her attractiveness adds colour to the serene atmosphere in view. The morning sun kissed her skin causing it to glow and radiate in-between of her dress puckers. While she worked the locks, her face caught the mirror of her door frame and soon became null, as though devoid of emotions. In a flick, a telephone call came in; the loud noise from the device stabbed

She asked as she sat beside me on the bench. I didn't even notice when they arrived at our department. But it was fine, I had no chances of winning. " Uhmm, Okay, Faryah, Faryah Mustapha" I answered finally and smiled at her. " Ohh that's nice, you're Arabian?" she asked. " Indo.." I shut myself up as a thought came across my mind. I was really Fauziyyah from Malaysia. " Malaysian" I answered and smiled at her. She had long red curly hair, with green eyes, with a thin nose and small lips that made her long chin fit her. She was beautiful. I don't really see the need of a beauty contest. " oh, I'm Natalie by the way" She replied and smiled wider. " Oh, are you in the contest too?" I asked and

Meanwhile Alexis was just at one side of the kitchen cutting onions. Alexis knife move was so perfect, she knew much about about martial art, thus she can performed sword dance too, thus the way she cut each onion looked more like she was murdering the onions not cutting them to slices, yet not a single mistake was recorded in the size of the onions. Someone coughed to announce their presence. Alexis looked up and notices her friend. “Hey Gina." Alexis smiled happily.

Different is what I need right now. Leaving the bathroom with a solemn promise to myself, I hop on a different train and pray that whatever the future has for me will be good. After sitting, an older woman is scolding her daughter, whom she calls "Ashanti." Ashanti. I love it. Ashanti Dunbar. Perfect.

"Oh no you don't we'll be late for our own party, besides, we have eyes on us." "Caitlin close your eyes, come on do it for daddy." She just grinned at me so I got an idea. I got one of her toys to keep her occupied before tackling a grinning Kat to the floor out of sight. She was wearing garter belts and heels with fuck hot thigh highs. All grown up my girl. "Damn baby your ass looks fucking perfect in these things, what are they anyway?" "It's called a Tonga." I pulled the lacy scrap down as far as the garter would go but that wasn't good enough so I tore them. She arched her back pushing her pussy higher for my mouth. She didn't even fuss at me for ruining her pretty underwear; fuck I lov

But right now he seems to be thinking about nothing else but the journey. Or maybe he is thinking of the destination. 2. Tuesday 27th April 2010 01:32 Karen Anderson has the look of a woman in power; her hair dragged back along her head so that it looks like the skin at the hairline is ready to tear open. The hair continues back and is tied up with the use of those things that can be bought in pharmacies to keep hair in order, the name of which escapes her at the moment. The excess hair, which is never seen down but is kept for the sake of her womanhood, hangs in a ponytail down to the centre of her back.

Biting my lip in concentration. "I think I'm done," I say, his face is outstanding better already. Patching itself together as though nothing happened. He doesn't move, "you're beautiful." I flush. Looking down and picking at my cracked nails. "Stop." Chris merely smiles, "You are Andrea. And I'm going to remind you every chance I get." I fumble to words, to any response. I've never considered myself beautiful. My almost platinum blonde hair was weirdly natural and my blue eyes where so light they sometimes seemed to reflect clouds. But beautiful? No.