Ann Marie Foster Novels & Stories

Damon asked. “Who I am?” Mary said no longer laughing. “ I am a plain, ordinary human. I am an orphan. I have no family. I have no idea where I am from. My mother died when I was really young and I have been living in the foster care system ever since. The only thing exceptional about me is that I probably hold a record for the most foster homes that kicked me to the curb.” “First, and let me clear love,” Damon said smiling. “There is absolutely nothing ordinary about you.”

"Sure," "I'm Cornelia," she said. "Cornelia Wilson." Maryam smiled at her, bringing her sandwich to her plate. "Maryam Junaid." she switched to her real last name, thinking that she didn't want to acquaint herself with her foster family and of course, she didn't want to use Abdullah's last name either. Firstly, because it sounded weird, and secondly, in Islam, a girl didn't have to change her last name to her husband's.

Garvin let out a frustrated sigh, cursing the woman for coming to ruin his good mood that morning. "That's my foster mother, Caroline Jacobs."

The thought of being married always scared her, her foster parents imprinted the horrific model of what it was like to be signed to a man for the rest of your life—her foster parents were abusive to her and the other kids, but they were also abusive to themselves. She could remember the time when her foster father beat her mother to stupor for talking to Old billy navy and she had a miscarriage. She wasn't aware of her pregnancy, didn't know it existed and blamed poor teenage Kathleen for it—it was horrific, and she couldn't entertain the idea of being married after that.

Let me tell you a little about myself and how I came to be standing in the middle of a forest area in Norway, surrounded by what I could only think was my brain playing an evil joke on me. So my name is Kari Marit Larson. I am a little under six feet with long white blonde hair and bright sapphire eyes, which I am pretty certain I inherited from my father's Nordic genetics. I have an athletic build which, through the years, I have been envied for, as it seemed to come naturally to me even with my love of food. Not everything came from my father's Nordic genes though. I do follow my mother in my hour glass figure and my not-so little chest, which have nearly got me into some unwanted situatio

It took me a moment to realize what was going on before I looked around his tall stature to see why we had stopped. Two of the other foster girls who had been at the same house as me stood in the path in front of us. I remembered that they were both about my age, but neither of them had ever even so much as muttered a word to me, until now. "Aria, hey, how have you been?" One of the girls, I think her name was Maria, twisted a strand of her long, dark hair around her finger as she batted her big brown eyes up at Xavier. Pink blotches covered her cheeks as her eyes greedily took him in. I smiled to myself, so that's why they decided to even utter my name.

"If there's no bleeding, you won't need the IV. But do remember to take your medicine." "Yeah. I want to get better soon. Thank you for coming all the way here. You must be the one who mentioned the Marshall’s Award to Mike, right? Thank you for telling us such an important piece of information," Avery said. "You are too kind, Miss Tate. I'm surprised by how bold Angela is to kidnap someone as famous and powerful as Mr. Foster. Who knows what's going on in her head? Does she think that she can do whatever she wants simply because she's older and used to be Professor Hough's junior?"

“I know how she and I disliked each other, but as we all know, she was stripped of her queenly title recently. I remember how she openly insulted my family all because she doubted my identity. Today, some of you question why I relate with her as if we were long lost friends. That is because I forgave her for everything. I know that those who were bullied by her aren’t obligated to forgive her and don’t owe her anything but at least let her live her changed life in peace. “I walk through the hallways hearing her name on your lips. Aren’t you tired? Where I come from, if a criminal repents, everyone keeps quiet and decides to watch if his repentance is genuine but here, the reverse is the case

Sean defended him as though he'd defend a son and this made Maria develop a soft spot for him. That she was able to witness all of this was a dream come true, and the only motivation she needed to know that someday, she'd also have a manager and an organization that wanted the best for her. Even though it was the slowest two hours of her life, it was the most interesting, and hell, she'd wanted it to last longer. Immediately after discussing the sponsors and the right statistics for the filming, the meeting came to an abrupt end, saddening Maria. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Mrs. Jones," the guy who had earlier called her pretty said as he rose, stretching out his arm for

After the Foster family scandal was exposed, Marie was bedridden for more than half a year. I had taken the initiative to share a bedroom with her. I would get up to check if she was feeling sick if there was any noise at night. I massaged her legs for three hours every day, applying a warm compress to her stomach for half an hour, and only after all that did she slowly recover. I treated her like my own mother. And yet, what did she see me as? Seeing the look on my face grow darker and darker, Marie hesitated for a long time. Even so, she still wouldn't give up.