Anna Karenina Novels & Stories

" She was wearing an elegant red printed dress and her hair was up in a bun. She looked stunning and irresistible even without wearing lipstick. I began to feel a tingling in my back and my heart skipped a beat. The librarian scolded some brats who were making noise and I took advantage of a moment of absent-mindedness to signal Monica. She understood instantly. 'Hi, I'm Anna,' I said holding out my hand, which she shook weakly. 'Monica,' she replied indifferently. The best thing for both of us was to pretend it was the first time we had met. So we disguised ourselves as skillfully as we could by talking about the genius of Stratford-upon-Avon, until we were shooed away and the room closed.

There was a twinkle in her eyes as she announced the information. Really now. Interesting. Beau Anderson. His accountant. His lips curved appreciatively. Was that her real name? "Thank you, nan. I will handle it from here." His velvety grays gazed at his woman intently. "We are not to be disturb, please." He murmured. His voice deepening and he watched Beau trying to suppress her shivers. "Of course, tzar." Nanny Sandri bowed before leaving them in the hallway. (Mature Content 18+)

Anita sighed at her daughter’s uninterested attitude but she also couldn’t force her daughter to tell her anything because that would only widen the gap between them plus she knows that her daughter always know what she is doing so Anita left Catherine alone. As soon as Anita left, Lyra went to Catherine and sat by her side. Lyra took Catherine’s right earphone which kind of startled Catherine. Lyra put it in her right ear and she was surprised that Catherine is listening to Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker. Lyra’s heart went a bit fast. Catherine stopped typing and looked at Lyra.

She excitedly tells me, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing around her heart shaped face. Christine is really a lovely lady. She is short, probably barely five feet tall, and dainty. Her facial expressions are quite entertaining, her freckled nose crinkled up and it wouldn’t take an empath to tell that what she was thinking about was icky. Confused, I gawk at her. “Warrior?” I ask. “Yeah, Bobby Ray told me that Deputy Scott found your camera and there was a video of you kicking the shit out of those two guys.” She explains.

This one read: War between millionaire ex-wife and mistress nanny, Via Billionaire Biotech company CEO Lucas Maxwell. I could not help the burst of laughter that ripped through me, but they did nothing to hold back the tears. Celine had turned off the tv now, but the images were fresh in my mind and they would stay there for a while. I got to my feet, wiping the tears, "you don't mind too much if I steal your room again. The bed seems to be the only place I would ever find any consolation."

Song for chapter: Happier by Olivia Rodrigo *** Half the class was asleep by the time the movie ended, some on their phones and some, like me, quite intrigued. The movie wasn't what I expected. However, even though the ending had me angry, I could say I enjoyed it thoroughly. I could also tell why Ms Fletcher chose this film to 'teach' us about feelings and behaviours. The movie was emotionally frustrating, yet you could understand the lead characters completely. Anna Karenina, a Russian minister's wife and mother of a beautiful little boy, finds herself in an affair with a cavalry officer, Count Vronsky. He was undoubtedly a catch indeed, and I don't blame An

- I don’t want her to go. The film continues with Karenina making all decisions to stay with the Count. Her husband notices their approach, tries to warn her, but I know it’s too late... I look at Carlos and wonder if he also at some point distrusted or distrusts me... — You ruined my happiness - accuses Anna in the arms of Vronsky who kisses her whole body — Killer, Killer... Continue. Yeah, stay a murderer. My body gets hot ,because I remember well how it is to be in the arms of a man like the Count...

************** Your gurl, Anna.

Just enough to make a man like Nikolai pause and look twice. The cold hit me again the moment I stepped outside. Snow crunched under my boots as I walked to the nearest metro station, my breath forming white clouds in the air. The streets were alive with Muscovites moving quickly, heads down, scarves wrapped tight. I blended in as best I could, keeping my posture straight but not arrogant. The metro ride was crowded and warm inside the train, a brief escape from the wind. I used the time to steady my nerves, repeating my cover story silently. Alexandra Kane, thirty years old, recently arrived from New York after a messy divorce and a need for new opportunities. Fluent enough in Russian to ha

Carlos replied, “What?” “I saw her,” Carden answered. “Really? Wow, that’s amazing—your little dream girl. What was she like?” Carlos asked curiously. “She looks exactly like her portraits—pale skin, red lips, grey hair—but eyes that hold words she can’t speak. Her name is Anna,” Carden said. “Oh, really? Anna, interesting ,” Carlos repeated. “That’s not the reason I called,” Carden continued. “She’s married to her ruthless owner . His name is Arnold Jackson.”