Annabelle Dukes Novels & Stories

“No, idiot. Do you ever wonder how things happen? How do people meet?” He hummed, tilting his head back against the headboard. “I guess. Why?” Annabelle exhaled, her fingers trailing over the faded fabric of his shirt. Her shoulders tightened slightly, a subtle testament to the vulnerability threading through her words. “My mom was a model,” she said, and his brows lifted in surprise. “Like, a real one. Magazines, runways, the whole thing. She was beautiful.” Her eyes darted away for a brief moment before returning to meet his gaze, as if checking to see if he believed her.

Fear locks my throat like a frozen door. She stops in front of me, so close I can smell her floral perfume, sharp and expensive. “The Duke has moved on, you see,” she purrs, her eyes alight with cruel pleasure. “He has his rebellions to plan, his northern ladies to visit. He doesn’t have time for problematic, prophetic little upstarts who cause diplomatic incidents and get valuable assets killed.” Leaning forward, she lets her words slip out like a threat. Her tone turns sharp, almost silent. Now it’s your turn to face what comes next

His stepmother, father, and younger halfsister were also present. Annabelle Tucker was a 25-year-old young lady. She wore a silver dress that accentuated her figure and paired it with black shoes. She was Damian's only sister and smiled as she watched her older brother arrive. Her mother, Lady Mallory Tucker, wore a black dress and sat elegantly on the couch. She was a 50-year-old woman with rich brown skin. She grinned and spoke, "Welcome, Son." "Good afternoon, Mom. Dad," Damian greeted his parents with a strict look, wondering what was going on in the living room. His father had already told him to come home for urgent matters, but it seemed more like they were celebrating as they all loo

Melanie smirked and Annabelle took her lips in "So....who are you? The kids likes you a lot anyway" Melanie said "I'm their nanny" Annabella confessed "Hot nanny you mean" Melanie said and Annabella smiled "I'm serious,you're so pretty and hot. And I'm sure my brother is gonna fall for you,if you make effort tho. He's a bad guy,his face might be innocent but.....don't be deceived" Melanie said and Annabella chuckled "Mind being friends? I will like to know the gists" Melanie said

"Well, yes. That's for a human's perspective. But for us-a noble or a mythical creature as what human history says-it's natural. We can live for millennia and tens and hundreds of it, not aging. We can even enter eternal slumber if we want to. "But that's not always the case. Sometimes, one can enter a force eternal sleep if they committed a crime that is too grave beyond comprehension and the risk being known to the world is high or they took offense to the humankind that we're supposed to take care." -Cassielle Elise D. Dairen, the daughter of the duke, Clyde Estreno D. Dairen. The unknown duchess.

Like he didn’t need alcohol to help loosen up and behave the way that’s expected of him. Annabelle is already on the dance floor. She wears a pastel purple dress that shimmers and has black details that help outline her figure. Her strawberry blonde hair is pinned up in a nice bun, she wears a black mask and I notice that her eyes appear dark. She must’ve put in colored contacts to help disguise who she is. It’s not every day you see a girl with pale purple eyes. Hazel is wearing a formal romper and sticks out compared to the rest of the girls here. But she doesn’t care, she’s confident in her own skin. Her eyes meet mine from across the room and she nods at me.

oden said to one of his guards, his voice echoing. Vanessa stepped backward alongside Malia, both their eyes trembling not wanting to face Annabelle. Vanessa's forehead perspired, rivulets of sweat populating her brows. They then stopped, they couldn't move any further. Their knees weakened, their legs joint free, no longer supporting their body weight. Vanessa kneels and then Malia. Duke Frenger envelopes the frightened crowd. He quickly grabs a sword from the floor, rushing towards Annabelle with the gait of a warrior, his sword raised up high, aiming to cut off Annabelle's neck.

If I’d been born a boy, he wouldn’t have spared me a second glance. Sometimes, I wished I had been. I sat in silence, staring down at the table as the dinner plates were being arranged. The smell of roasted duck and truffle oil wafted around me, but I couldn’t find it in myself to lift a single finger. Someone placed a white plate in front of me. I blinked and looked up. Annabelle. Annabelle was Richard’s second wife. The woman who vanished a year ago. She wore an elegant white dress, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. And her smile seemed too perfect.