Anna Walsh Novels & Stories

Mona breathed deeply, feeling truly relaxed for the first time since Alexander had warned her about Emily's desperation. She was examining handbags in the window of a luxury store when someone approached from behind. "Mrs. Kane? Mona Kane?" Mona turned to see a nervous-looking woman in her fifties, dressed in a plain coat and carrying a worn handbag. Her face was familiar in the way that faces become familiar when you've seen them in passing but never really noticed them. "Yes?" Mona said cautiously. "My name is Margaret Walsh. I used to work for Caldwell Industries. In accounting." The woman's voice was shaky, her eyes darting around nervously. "I need to talk to you about Emily Caldwell."

Let me introduce myself again. I am Anna Sinclair Walton. Daughter of infamous Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence, sister of Aaron. The wife of Dr. Hale Davy Walton, and I was currently alone on my honeymoon with only my fingers to help me in need. For the first few minutes after Davy left, I kept staring at the space he had once vacated, waiting for a crew to jump out and yell surprise. I had even positioned myself well, my back straight as a rolling board, practicing my smile because I would be damned if the camera captured me at a bad angle, but minutes ticked by and all I got was silence.

She forgot the journalists’ questions and grabbed my still‑healing arm. The wound reopened under her pull, and drops of blood fell to the floor. “Joseph, how could you be so despicable? You know Derek is innocent, yet you bribed reporters and hired online trolls. Do you want to ruin his reputation?” Her grip tightened around my wrist with great force. A sharp cracking sound followed. Pain washed over me, and a faint taste of blood filled my mouth. Derek pulled her away and acted generous. “Jaime, it’s alright. I believe Joseph wouldn’t do that.”

The woman’s eyes were glued to the floor, much like the attendants' lined across the back of the stage. “I am Nala Williams, daughter of a Mountain Forest Gamma.” She introduced herself, letting her voice ring throughout the hall. It didn’t take a genius to realise that the sharp gasp to her right, that followed her declaration, was the Red Dawn wolf. When she turned to join the line of candidates, her suspicions were confirmed, but she simply cast the wolf a smile. The bitch knew. It was clear in her wide eyes and the tension that suddenly ripped apart her confidence. She knew Nala was affiliated with Silver Night. She’d have to watch her carefully.

"W-Wat we're doing is wrong. While we're lying, Aunt Grace, her mother, and Nathalia are just being kind to us—" "And how could you possibly say that what we're doing is wrong? Do you even know what is good and bad? You're too young to question what your mother is doing to you." Dahlia shifted her gaze to Allison. She placed her palm on top of the vanity, squeezed her lips together in a narrow line, and gave Allison her cold expression that would undoubtedly give anyone shivers.

She's a distraction but a delicious one. I head to the front door and knock. It's all quiet inside, but Fynn assured me she'd be home. The witness in Stazek's murder case is named Natasha Whelan, aged fifty-six, widow. Fynn doesn't know her connection to the deceased and didn't have enough time to figure it out. Getting this much was enough.

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t even notice my phone buzzing until the vibration nearly sent it sliding off the bed. “Miranda?” I blinked and answered. Her voice hit me like a burst of controlled urgency. “Hi, Annabelle. Walsh just called. He wants to arrange a meeting, and I need you there with me.” My stomach dropped. Walsh. That meant the case. That meant Victoria Blackthorne. Miranda continued, “But listen carefully please, follow my lead. Do not, under any circumstance, say anything without my guidance. I need to know you understand that.” Her tone was serious enough to turn my blood cold.

The wound on my chest had healed, most of it at least, and I knew that some of the pack members were still healing. But those who could stand and train, they were here today. And judging by how they were training, something told me that they were excited to be here. Yesterday proved that their training was worth what they were doing, and those that we have lost, we knew that we needed to honor. It was our duty towards them. It should have been ordinary. Order going the way it normally did. But nothing about today felt ordinary. Natalia was on the far end of the field, standing between two of the younger wolves. Her hair was tied back, but strands had escaped to brush against her face, catchi

I blinked rapidly, my vision blurring with pain and cold. “Wake up, freak,” the guard barked. I coughed and twisted, my body screaming in protest as I curled into myself. Every part of me burned—my cheek, my chest, my knees. My hunger gnawed at me worse now, turning into something almost animal. “Get up,” Kelly ordered. “Or you’ll regret it.” I laughed. It was a broken sound, dry and cracked. “I already do.” She knelt beside me again, this time her smile was gone. “Do you know what happens to wolves who refuse to obey, Rachael?” she whispered, her voice smooth as poison. “They get put down.”

"And now, for our final nominee...after rigorous deliberation by the committee. The winner of this year's best actress and queen of the entertainment industry is......" I snapped out of it, rushing towards the sofa with a soft thump. I fixated my gaze on the screen, afraid that it would all be over if i blinked . "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome on stage....Miss Irina Williams!!." - The hostess announced. The crowd cheered, applause ringing as i watched Irina walk up the aisle , a soft smile adorned on her soft features as she waved her hands gracefully. Her off- shouldered, red sequel dress sparkled under the lights. She looked absolutely stunning as the crowd adored her.