Best Books For Fathers Of Daughters Novels & Stories

"Oh, that's right. Mary left this in the bus yesterday. I wanted to return it to her today." I stared at the hair clip. It was the same one that I had clipped into her hair yesterday morning. Why? Why did everyone say that I didn't have a daughter? Why didn't Marilyn's records exist even in the police database? "Are you alright, Mrs. Lopez?" Oliver asked, looking at me worriedly. I shook my head. My mind was a mess. Just then, I recalled something important. "Oliver, your father…" Oliver's eyes dimmed. "He passed away a year ago," he murmured.

It was like he knew how to calm down my emotions better than I did. "My daughter hasn't had many rules so I think teaching her how to be an obedient wife will work wonders for their bond." My father remark had the comfort going away almost instantly.

"It seems their father really loves them. They adore him." The woman smiled, genuinely pleased. "Oh yes, he spoils them terribly. When our eldest was born, he didn't know a thing about taking care of babies. But he learned bit by bit. By the time our daughter came along, he was a pro—practically a stay-at-home dad!" "Is that so?" "Yes. They say daughters are their fathers' lovers from a past life, and ours is no exception. She clings to him like glue, won't let anyone else hold her."

It’s freaking me out and it’s turning me on and it’s freaking me out because it’s turning me on. He stops reading just as the characters move on from spanking to screwing. “What do you have to say for yourself, young woman? Doesn’t that sound foolish, read aloud?” He’s not just scolding me. He’s making fun of me, too. Great. I roll my eyes. “Daddy, it’s just a book. I like it, and besides, Tom Clancy would sound just as dumb if I did a dramatic reading.” He takes a step forward, and then another, taking over my personal space. I’m surrounded by his cologne, the leatherywoodsy one that’s like Essence of Grown Man, and I know I ought to back away, but instead I’ve grown roots into the rug.

"Everyone, come take a look! This is the woman who incited her daughter to harm herself for money! She lost her job and her daughter was expelled, yet she's still hanging around! No wonder her man left her. A woman like her brings nothing but bad luck!" She grew more animated, now stepping forward to point at my daughter. "And this little liar! Raised without a father, she's already lying and cheating at such a young age! She's only gonna get worse when she grows up! I think she should be sent to juvenile prison!" "Shut your mouth!" My blood boiled, and I yelled. "I'll say what I want!" She put her hands on her hips. "If you don't want people to talk about it, don't do it, crazy woman! And t

“Sweetheart! Great news. Remember I told you about Alexander’s firm? Well, there’s an opening in their marketing department, and I put in a good word for you. You have an interview Friday!” Alexander Sterling. My father’s best friend since college, the man Dad golfed with every Sunday, the one he referenced constantly as “someone you should learn from.” Successful, respected, always traveling. I’d never actually met him; I’d been away at college during most of his visits home, and when I was there he was usually on a plane somewhere. “Dad, I already have job applications out…” “This is better. Alexander runs the best consulting firm in the city. Top clients, real growth opportunities. Trust

"I’m really, deeply sorry. I shouldn’t have neglected you. Claudia, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I feel so shitty that it took me three months of silence to realize that." "You’ve been a great husband, Travis," I sigh, the anger mixing with a weary sadness. "A great father. You just… stopped wanting me. After Anna. I get that you’re tired, that work is crazy, but seriously? You’d kiss me, get me all wound up, and then just… roll over and go to sleep. Like I was a chore you could put off." "I get wound up too, baby," he admits, running a hand through his hair. He looks exhausted. "I just… I thought after kids, maybe you wouldn’t need it as much. That it wasn’t as import

IRIS The moment Daddy falls silent, I know that I’ve failed. Not because he dismisses me, or laughs, or looks at me with that terrible, polite patience people reserve for fragile women and frightened children. In some ways, that would almost be easier, because dismissal would give me something solid to push against, something cleanly cruel enough to resent. Instead, he listens. He listens to every halting word about the shears, the sketchbook, the bubble bath, the shadows near the orchard, and his face remains careful and grave and loving throughout all of it, which somehow makes the shame worse.

"And while your mother is away, you will call me sir, or you will call me daddy. Choose one." Roe caught her breath, a wicked, defiant smile spreading across her lips even as tears of heat pricked the corners of her eyes. She twisted her neck, looking up at his sharp, chiseled jawline and those cold, dark eyes that were currently boring holes into her. "Why should I?" she challenged, her voice dripping with deliberate provocation. "You're not my real dad. You just like having me under your hand like this. Admit it. You've been looking for an excuse to touch me all week."

Now I just sound like I am pleading and whiny. “Lamia, there is much to discuss and I don’t think you are ready or even in the right state of mind to venture there yet.” My dad exhales and scrubs a hand over his face in frustration and ruffles his black hair. “Do not attempt to assume what my state of mind is! Or what I can and cannot handle!” I curl my fists in agitation, the tips of my claws poking through. “That’s not what your father is saying, Lamia! We are concerned about your health. After everything you have gone through and then losing your mate after all you have endured, we just want to look out for you. You are our daughter, we love you!”