Carly Riordan Novels & Stories

Much Love, Cara

She didn't want it. She didn't need it. Still, she couldn't help but notice the wide, glowing smile beginning to form on Carly's face as she read. "This is it, Mom!" Carly gasped, unable to contain her excitement. "You were right! The truth is finally out!" Her mother pulled her into an emotional hug, already celebrating as if the paper had declared victory. Charlie could read between the lines. If Carly was that excited, it could only mean one thing. The biological daughter of billionaire Lawrence Dalton… was Carly.

Alpha Arnold and his men attacked their pack, burning homes and capturing anyone they could find. Carly was just fifteen when the raids started. Her father fought bravely but was outnumbered. She watched in horror as he was struck down and her mother was dragged away screaming. Carly hid in the forest, clutching her younger brother, Ethan, to her chest, trying to keep him quiet.

Chantelle's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. She froze, her heart pounding in her chest. It was them, her relatives, back from their outing. She quickly wiped the last few tears from her eyes and tried to compose herself. She had to act normal, had to pretend that everything was fine. But as she heard the front door open, she felt like a deer caught in the headlights.

She helps me into them. There’s a zip at the back. The front is interesting, the straps look like twisted rope. “Okay let me get to work.” Carly says. She walks me over to where she washes my hair. During the whole process she tells me about her daughter and how she’s a single mother. She then explains how her ex used to abuse her and when she went to ask help from a friend, he called her a liar that’s when she met Damian, she told him about what happened to her and he believed her, he helped her get all the evidence against her ex and had him arrested. When he found out she was pregnant he gave her a job as a stylist for all his lady friends he takes on dates and his mother.

I felt it crack, but before it could break, I felt a small hand cover mine, causing me to relax and remove the glass from my hand. “That fucking cunt.” Riley growls. We all look at him. Riley does have a temper, but it takes a lot to piss him off. He isn’t usually one to throw out words like this. That would be one of us or my precious jewel. She has no problem using that word. To hear it come from Riley means they have pushed him too far. The woman wrapped around the mystery guy is none other than Karli, or now who we know as Karleena. I should have known. The weird thing is none of us have seen her around campus for a while. I ran into her followers, and they said she is still he

I hate her, too for her weakness, for her unyielding loyalty to someone so undeserving. The door creaks open, and my heart leaps in panic. Is it Ryker? I brace myself for his towering frame and his cold sneer. But it’s Carly who steps into the room, her silhouette framed by the dim light from the hallway. Her perfume precedes her, a cloying sweetness that stings my nose. She strides forward, her heels clicking against the wooden floor like a countdown to my misery.

“And someone get me a cigarette. Now.” My name is Candace Moor, but the world knows me as Candy. I’m twenty-five year old sensational pop star, with my face plastered on billboards across the country. To my millions of fans, I’m the sweet, innocent girl-next-door who writes love songs but that's a beautiful lie that makes me a lot of money.

"Yes, the one who had hot pink hair last year." Ryan Hardy was a race car driver, a shocking choice of career for a girl whose father was a detective and her mother owned a restaurant. To describe Ryan, think Billie Eilish meets Miley Cyrus. She was definitely crazy but she had a chill personality, the type of person who knew the best places to hang out on a Saturday night and the best clubs to hop into after a stressful week. What her racing fans seemed to love most about her was her hair. Ryan's hair was always undergoing some type of transformation, whether it was an unusual hair cut or an obnoxious color of hair dye which would cause her to be seen from a mile away, she wasn't afraid to

She pulled out her fist in an attempted punch but I moved my body to the left, causing a missed shot. Carly's face twisted in anger, her teeth bared. "You're a weak, pathetic bitch," she spat, her voice venomous. "Adriel belongs to me, and I'll make sure you know it." Her growl was low and filled with malice, like a wounded animal ready to strike. Without warning, Carly launched herself at me again, her hands closing around my neck like a vice. I struggled to pry her fingers loose, but her grip was relentless. Panic set in as I realized I couldn't breathe.