Charlie A Novels & Stories

It wasn't ideal, but nothing in her life ever was. By the time she arrived at the coffee shop, the sun was beginning to dip, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange. The Third and Lexington area wasn't exactly Upper East Side luxury, but it wasn't the worst place she had been, either. It was gritty graffiti-tagged walls, the smell of fresh bagels mixed with something that was definitely not fresh, and honking taxis trying to maneuver through the congested streets. Then she saw him. Gerald. An older man with a round belly and a kind smile, waving at her from the corner. He looked like the type of guy who could either be someone's uncle or a retired mobster.

I hate the way my heart tries to crawl out of my throat whenever he’s near. Love, am I right? The world’s most beautiful, debilitating curse. Because Charlie? Charlie is a flirt. No, he’s THE Flirt. Capital F. It’s his native language. He charms the barista, the CEO, the old lady who lives down the hall. And with women he’s interested in? He’s a goddamn symphony of attention. He listens, he laughs, he makes them feel like the only person in the room. But it’s a firework. Bright, breathtaking, and over in a flash.

“Miss Garrison, did Charlene introduce you to her date that evening.” “She must have done but I don’t remember.” My eyes flashed and my mind raced. I knew exactly where Gideon was going to take this but there was no stopping it. “Miss Garrison, can you tell this court what you told Charlene that evening?” “I don’t know. It was months ago. I didn’t know many people that well. I can’t remember those conversations.” “Charlene remembers you talking about being broken into back home and how it excited you.” “That’s a lie!”

"I need you to distract Darius tonight so I can ask him." I watch through the crack in the toilet door as Selena Wilkins fluffs her horrible hair and makes her stupid lips look gross and sticky with her lip gloss. What sort of thirteen year old needs lip gloss? And high heels, they're totally impractical for anything, we live on the Moors for Goddess' sake! Not that I'm being petty or anything because for the last few minutes she's been talking about how hot Coal is and how she is going to make him her boyfriend.

She kept herbs and had an amazing garden full of any type of vegetable or fruit you could imagine, but other than that she showed no signs of being a witch. I was caught up in thought about Carlene when I heard my phone buzz. I quickly reached into my pocket and closed my eyes hoping it was Tyler. I opened my phone and the text was from an unknown number. I quickly clicked on the notification and opened the message, UNKNOWN: Give us the land or you will have another body on your hands. Send our condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Stone.

The idea that a virtual stranger could do that to her, could make her nearly frantic with need, did not please her. Maybe there’s something in the air, she thought suspiciously, taking a discrete sniff. Maybe it’s not me at all, but something to do with that thing he calls me. What was it, a charmer? Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, she asked, “What is this charmer business about, anyway?” He looked at her; obviously surprised she would choose to speak to him. He took a moment to answer. “A charmer makes men want her. It’s the special pheromone she produces that makes the Haunt male wild.”

“No, Connie and Hannah are team one. You are team two.” “Right,” she said. “I forgot.” “Forgot or weren’t listening,” he muttered aloud. Usually, he found her forgetfulness cute, but tonight he found it annoying and distracting. “Here he comes,” Elliott warned them. Through Elliott’s IAC, Aaron could see the dark figure of an older man, hunched over, with crazy black hair, slithering towards the chimpanzee cage. He weaved in and out of the shadows and seemed to do a dance step now and again.

Fuck are they going to pay! Alpha Harold is already showing enough anger over Rowan's attempt on Bonnie's life so I can only imagine how he is going to react to the next part of our conversation. "Alpha Harold, there's more that you need to know." He gives me a nod as I watch him ball his hands into firsts dreading what's about to be said. "Yes, you mentioned that on the phone. What else is the issue, Alpha Nicholas?" I shake my head and look towards Bonnie who's still sitting on my lap looking down at her own lap and watching as he stiffens up when he realizes that it is once more concerning Bonnie.

Mr Peter said and left them alone to talk. “Hello.” Vivian said nervously. “Hey, Vivian. I’m Charles you can call me Charlie.” Charles said, offering his hand for a shake, which Vivian politely accepted. Charles looked nothing more than twenty five years old yet he was the director, many would wonder how, apart from his baby face he was a genius with computers , especially designing and he has made a name for himself across the country as one of the best designers. “Nice to meet you.” Vivian said smiling.

A soft click echoed over the line, followed by static, and then the sound of a woman’s shaky, ragged breathing. "Hello?" Elena’s voice came through, sounding perfectly frail, frightened, and laced with a cold, desperate anger. She was executing the script Lydia had bought for her, her performance fueled by her genuine, bitter resentment toward Tyler's silence. "Who is this? The man said you could help me get Tyler away from her." Charlie took a deep, steadying breath, a predatory smile slowly cutting across his face. "My name is Charlie Vane. And yes, Elena... I can help you. I want to help you take back what is rightfully yours. Tell me everything."