Carrie Diaries Carrie Novels & Stories

[ FANNY ] It's been three days since I no longer saw my daughter Cassandra. The last time we spoke was when I sent her to pick a medicinal plant in the bush behind our house. And since she left the house that night, she never came back. It was the first time this had happened. Cassandra is not the kind of girl who sleep outside. During these three days, I was panicked. I looked for my daughter all over the neighborhood and I couldn't find her. Besides, no one had seen her. All my efforts to find her were in vain. I then automatically informed the police to help me find her. I was afraid to find out on the news that she was killed. She is my darling daughter. I love her and she's only 16 year

Music guy… He sat at the carved wooden table, a laptop on the table, and offered me a seat by his side. “I'm hoping we'll find something on the internet.” He opened his web browser and typed Annabelle Steele. I winced. Annabelle Steele is dead on the internet. “You won't get anything from this, Damien.” “I might.” “Maybe.” I murmured. “Maybe a death certificate.” “Be positive.” He smiled at the screen. I wished I were the screen.

"Okay, that's enough. You dare to touch me again and you won't like the scene I'll cause." Carrie raised both hands in surrender, "Okay, but you do know I have a tape. Specifically, a sex tape entailing you and a professor who you asked to paint Andrea in a bad light in front of several other professors." Before Valerie could deny it, Carrie brought out her phone and showed a video. Valerie didn't let it play long as she reached out and tried to grab it. Carrie was quick enough to dodge before laughing silently, "Even if you destroy this phone, I have numerous other tapes of you and others. I must say, you're a shameless slut."

“Do you think it’s funny to come to my house and trash it!? How did you get my number!?” My nostrils flair as I attempt to release her surprisingly tight grip. She’s so small that I don’t want to hurt her. “I haven’t done anything to you. What messages? I don’t even know your number.” Carrie’s face reddens as her rage heightens. “Don’t lie! It has to be you! It only makes sense. I know what you did for that bastard! You can pretend that you were a victim, but I know what you did!” She screams, garnering the attention of the retreating crowd. “You helped that monster! Did you kill Billy because he knew too much!?”

“You’re the best.” He gave her a warm hug and then grinned at Carrie. “Do you finally want to join the drama crew now?” “Oh, give up already, Darc, my answer is still the same,” Carrie chuckled as they shared a tight hug, two werewolves squeezing each other. Zeda laughed. Carrie had told her that Darcy had been pestering her to join the drama crew since their first year, but she was never interested. Her interest was volleyball, so she was in the sports department.

How about we go bed? Carrie shook her head, her eyes serious for one long awful moment. ‘There is something else to come out.’ Then her face cracked up as she reached for his zipper and she burst out laughing. ^ThisV EPILOGUE Four months, ten days later Carrie gave birth to a blue eyed little girl named Dionne Alicia Stephanides. She weighed seven pounds, five oimces. Dionne meant *The daughter of heaven and earth.’ Aphrodite’s mother. At least that was what Petros had told her. Petros and Helena had just left the clinic but had insisted he see his ‘grandaughter’, even though he was only allowed light exercise.

I cried out while I could feel my orgasm ripping through me and my pussy spasming as I soak his cock. Brian follows seconds later, burying deep and flooding me with hot cum as his grip bruises my hip. We pant and slumped against the wall while his forehead is on my shoulder. Then—a ding. The lights flicker, and the doors slide open. I pull away first, yanking my skirt down and smoothing my hair as I step out into the lobby. Act normal. Just act normal. Brian follows behind, zipping up casually. 'You are still insufferable,' I snapped over my shoulder, voice shaky but defiant.

But she wasn't unattractive. She was different. Lovely in the kind of way that made you do a double take. Carrie wore a baggy gray sweater and beat-up jeans. No heels. No heavy makeup. No plastic smile. She looked around nervously. "Hi. I'm, uh. Carrie. Carrie Wilson." I blinked at her. And blinked again. There was something beautifully. real about her. "You live alone?" I hurled the question out. She gave a startled look. "Um. Yes. Just me and my parrot, Maurice."

Although a deep sleeper, Carrie was a sensitive person. If she realised that she was not in the room with her, the very first thing she would do was to raise an alarm to alert everyone. Things would turn very bad. Her shoulders sagged in despair. Why was the letter late? She stared out into the deep waiting for the carrier pigeon. If only she had the time to send the letter as early as possible to Sherry, however it was late before she realized that the Alpha and Noya weren't around and that they had gone on a picnic for just four days.

Her long black hair drapes over her shoulders, and her familiar brown eyes fill me with disbelief. My eyes widen. “Mia?” Her face lights up. “Carrie.” She hugs me, I almost flinch from the contact. “Oh my God, this is you? You look great,” I breathe. She steps back and looks me over, a sad look crossing her face—I can tell I look like a mess. I don't even need a mirror for that. “Can I come in?” she asks. I nod immediately, stepping aside. She walks in with the man. “I'm so sorry, Carrie. Meet my husband, Landon. Landon, this is Caroline, my high school best friend.”