Books Set In Savannah Novels & Stories

All of the disastrous past that I've passed and all the hell that I've been through, it all led to a beautiful mess called Savannah Canterbury. Savannah Coleen Canterbury Wilde. ~ FIN ~ __________ SFTC: And I Love Her - The Passenger

ALPHA KANE POV I knew that Savannah wouldn’t have gone many places. She was stuck with Calvin for her whole life and while coming to my pack, they definitely wouldn’t have made a fun trip out of it. They would have tried to get to safety as soon as possible. When we got out of the car and I saw the look on Savannah’s face, I knew I was right. Her face lit up like it was Christmas morning for a little kid. She’d never been to New Orleans before. And there was so much stuff to do in this city, I was determined to give her new fantastic memories to try and replace the old ones that she can’t stop having nightmares about.

She’d called my cell phone a few minutes ago to confirm our lunch date. “I’m breathing just fine,” I said calmly, rearranging the bestsellers again. “There should be more of a blend between the new books and the classics.” Grampa walked by, pushing a cart filled with books to restock. “Great job, Savannah. That looks lovely.” I smiled. “Thanks.” He tilted his head. “Yep, you can stop messing with them and get ready for Chris. He should be here any minute.” I frowned as my shoulders slumped. “Okay, Grampa.”

IRIS Savannah’s cold, sharp eyes bore directly into me as I set the breakfast tray down onto the table. It was the weekend, and the entire family was gathered in the dining room, leisurely, making the atmosphere suffocatingly tense. Savannah leaned back in her chair, her lips curling into a cruel, disgust-filled smile as she stared at my new ballet flat. "It really is fascinating how some people can be pulled right out of the gutter, given a clean set of clothes and shoes, and they still manage to smell like poverty. You can scrub a maid clean, but you can never wash away where she came from."

Nothing permanent. Savannah fed her soup with trembling hands. Read her books with steadier ones. And when Eva finally whispered, “Where’s Maggie?” Savannah blinked too fast to answer. “She’s resting,” was all she managed. Colton had hired bodyguards. Rhett doubled the encryption on every device. The penthouse turned into a fortress. But it wasn’t enough. At night, Savannah dreamed of fire. Not Magnolia’s—but her own. Her skin peeling, her breath rattling. Each time she reached for Eva, the girl disappeared into smoke.

It was more classified as a vintage one, with old classy wooden floors and ceilings and big horns welcoming to embrace your presence. “Come inside.” Dorris opened the door for her. It was beautiful; the fragrance of these old books could make you travel anywhere in this world. “Sometimes I feel safe in between these four walls.” Savannah couldn’t agree anymore. She wandered here and there and finally found a few books of her liking. “You like romance books?” Savannah shrugged in response. “Maybe the idol love we were trying to find in real life doesn’t exist,” Savannah added, tapping her finger pads on the spine of these old archives.

He threw it in front of Savannah and said slowly, "Let you go? Of course, I can. Once you have sex with me a thousand times, I will naturally let you go!" Savannah picked up the small book and looked at it. Suddenly, her face turned ashen! "How about it? It looks familiar, doesn't it? This is not a conspiracy I crafted. The ' ledger' belongs to you, doesn't it? You were the one who recorded the 'bills', right? Savannah, it's not over yet! I'm not finished with you!"

They served silently, praying the night would pass without more trouble. Cassandra sat at the head of the table beside Nathaniel, acting every bit the mistress of the house. She spoke about parties, business meetings, and redecorating the mansion. Nathaniel listened half-heartedly, his mind elsewhere. Upstairs, the smell of burnt fabric still lingered faintly in the air. Savannah’s last traces were gone. But far away, in a quiet hospital room, Savannah lay sleeping, her hand resting on her stomach. She had no idea what Cassandra was doing in the mansion she once called home. She had no idea her clothes, her things, her life had been turned to ash.

Savannah’s joy could be compared to one of a child at a candy store. Thinking at first that she was alone in the library, she made her way through the alcove of books, footsteps soundless over the red rug that lay sprawled beneath her, heading for the ladder that lay against the walls of books. From experience, Savannah knew that the best books were shoved away from reach and she was so giddy with excitement. But suddenly, the low yet heated murmur of voices coming from the tiny west door to her left alerted her. The privacy and quietness she really wanted was the last thing she could find here! Her heart stung with hurt and she desperately eyed the ladder, wishing she could just enact her f