Beryl Grace Novels & Stories

As she reached the back of the room, she turned and faced them. The crowd grew silent. “Beethoven Butcher?” she repeated. “Can’t they do better than that?” Before they could ask another question, she abruptly exited the room. Grace wound her way up the back staircase of Carnegie Hall, flanked by her detectives, who kept feeding her information as she went. The truth was, she was barely listening. She was tired. She had just turned 40 last week, and she knew she shouldn’t be this tired. But the long, March nights had gotten to her, and she needed some rest. This was the third murder this month, not counting the suicides. She wanted warm weather, some greenery, some soft sand beneath her feet.

The rain fell harder. No one moved. The woman stood in the middle of the smoke, her grey eyes fixed on Daniel, Noah, and Elena. “My name is Grace.” “And I’m your sister.” Daniel stared at her. “No…” His voice was barely audible. “That’s impossible.” Grace smiled sadly. “I said the same thing when I found out.” Noah stepped in front of Dr. Mercer. “Prove it.” Without saying a word, Grace rolled back the sleeve of her tactical jacket.

She was not some stranger who would just walk in and leave without an effect. She was more than that. And worse… she was beautiful. Not in the vain, superficial way Lysandra flaunted. No. Delilah had that effortless kind of beauty, the one that didn’t need much to leave an impression. With her long dark lashes, soft voice, and mysterious demeanor, it was the kind of presence that made men stop and look. And Damon… He looked. Even if he didn’t mean to. Even if he didn’t want to. He still looks at her, he still watched, and deep down I knew that he found himself getting lost, admiring even.

Probably some guy gave her a fake number in the bar. "I know what it is. But who are you?" She again asks me anxiously. "I am secretary of the President of the Damison Group. My name is Ethan Stone." I reply to her irritatingly, as she is wasting my time. I need to go home and take a lavender bath with my rubber ducks.

I stepped back inside to understand what was going on, and before I could say a word, Camella's silhouette appeared, and I could swear that an angel had fallen at that minute. She was the perfect epitome of beauty, and I could swear I never knew a human could be as beautiful and gracious as that, at least not until I met Rita. I couldn't help but take a moment to appreciate her. Her features were delicate, her eyes pools of shimmering warmth that radiated kindness and understanding. Her hair cascaded in gentle waves around her face, framing features that seemed almost too perfect to be real. She had a crop top and bum short on, and her hairs were dangling loosely upon the apron.

I finally said that I would and now we were on our way to Paris, to meet up with her at her condo. She was my grandfather's sister, Eliza Brinx, she was a fashion icon and the most adnired family member in the Brinx line of work, she was the prettiest woman I've ever seen in all my life, even at the age of fifty, Eliza was a remarkable being, she was a model and also an entrepreneur. She was my favorite person in the entire world. "Why do I allow you to take me out of the US?" Elijah asks, scanning the busy streets once we got out of the car, outside of Eliza's condo building.

she said. "My phone!" I exclaimed, "Max threw it out the car window, how on earth does it still work?" The screen was cracked but lit up all the same. "I don't kn-" she began before her attention was stolen by something behind me. Xander had come out of the kitchen with Leo following closely behind him. He looked down at Bella, examined her and smiled. "Hello," he said, stepping forward. Bella smiled back and blushed. "Who is this girl?" Xander asked Leo.

“They gave me a springboard I intend to make the most of. And, she liked me, so I’m going to take a look tomorrow.” Amid gaping grins and raised brows, the question arises in stereo. “She?” “Oh come on, guys. Her name’s Grace. She’s got to be nine hundred years old.” I carefully omit that Grace didn’t sound like she was nine hundred years old. In fact, she speaks with a quiet refinement, but it’s tinged with something youthful, something—well, graceful. I can’t account for how her voice affected me, but I’m certain it wasn’t because she sounded old.

" Becky asked. "Oh yes! I see a different Grace. What's the secret?" Laura added. "My dear, there's nothing special. I'm only a work in progress. You see girls, I deserve to be loved, treated like a queen and that's simply what I'm doing for myself." "I love this new version of you, you're a beautiful soul. Who would believe you'd survive that heartbreak! I'm so happy for you dear". Laura commented and hugged her. Becky Lawson is the second out of three. She doubles as the

Alex looked at him questionigly and Dom shrugged unbothered. Bella looked at Grace and her attempt to ignore this conversation, she can clearly see the uncomfort on her face. Her mind might have forgotten him but heart still beats for him. Bella felt bad for her and kicked Alex's foot under the table. He looked at her confused and she mouthed him. "Do something!" Alex sighed. "Dom but last time you___" "Hii everyone" Dom closed his eyes and internally cursed when he heard Natasha. Grace tilted her head and saw tall and beautiful girl in short black dress. She was looking stunning with beautiful features and elegant smile on her face.