Charlotte Black Clover Novels & Stories

Havermouth, Two Weeks Before Charlotte was sitting on her porch shelling peas. Her dark hair was severely braided back from her face, the tail sitting over her shoulder. She wore faded jeans, a shirt with a floral print, and the military boots that she seemed to favor, along with an expression of irritated disdain as they approached.

Cuff-links it is. "Master?" says Charlotte, holding out her own cracker. They pull together, and... How is he doing it...? ... Charlotte gets the ´winner´s half´. She tips the contents of the exploded tube into her hand and out slides something small, gleaming with a multi-coloured glow from the lights of the tree. Holding it up, she lets it spin gently on its chain. It´s a pendant, small but beautifully made, with a small black stone set in silver

He said gently. Charlotte got to where we were, stretched her hands forward, towards Alfy with a wide smile, which Alfy returned and ushered her to sit beside me. Her perfectly manicured fingers grasped a silver clutch on one hand. She wore a short white gown stopping mid-thighs. Her moderately black hair was neatly tied into a ponytail, ignoring its sprawling curls after it was wrapped together by a hair band. A big black jacket emphasised her dressing, having its length to a considerable distance below her knees, blendings its colour with an exorbitant, pulchritudinous white 4-inches heels that elongated her model-like height.

(Grace's POV) The next morning, I stood before my closet, fingers trailing over the modest selection of formal wear. Nothing extravagant, nothing that screamed wealth or status—just elegant, understated pieces befitting a healer who happened to be mated to an Alpha King. I selected a simple cream-colored dress with subtle embroidery. Not too flashy, but respectable enough for the Shadowcrest Charity Auction. Charlotte arrived at my door precisely at six, dressed in a forest-green ensemble that complemented her vibrant copper hair.

"And when is the rain of frogs due?" "I'll let you know." Charlotte reappears, beaming. "Isn't it lovely." I wind my finger in a circle and she gives me a twirl. In shades of warm brown and dark green, the fabric of the skirt is heavy: winter-weight but cut to flare, swishing around her legs in an elegant swirl. The pullover seems plain at first, but as Charlotte moves, the knit is of some complicated pattern giving a subtle knot-work effect over the front. It smooths over her full bosom and narrowing waist, emphasising everything she has. She pauses, sucking at her lip as she waits for my verdict.

he muttered, squinting at the sunlight. "Nothing except drool all over my couch," Charlotte replied dryly, crossing her arms. "But I need you to leave now. I have a very full day ahead of me." "Charlie…" he started to say, reaching toward her. But before he could get close, he was met with the low growl and bared teeth of Loki, who had parked himself between them with all the protectiveness of a dragon guarding treasure. "Tonight is the opening of the first hotel in the Country Club," Charlotte said, her tone sharp but controlled. "It's a big night for me, Blake. Don't ruin it."

I turned to see Charlotte. She was wearing a black lace dress and jasmine perfume. It was the same dress that my first love, Felicity, was wearing in a photo I kept tucked away in a photo album in my closet. She leaned in close, on tip-toe as the scent of jasmine wafted through the air. Jasmine. Felicity’s perfume. As she leaned in closer, her face and the outfit overlapped with the image of Felicity’s. For the briefest second, I thought I was staring into Felicity’s face.

Legolas' sword had penetrated the sinew behind his strong knee from behind, slicing through the black cloak and passing up beneath the hauberk. 'Charlotte! Charlotte!' Legolas exclaimed. Then, wobbling and straining to her feet, she thrust her blade between helmet and cloak with her final power, as the great shoulders bent before her. The blade shattered into a dazzling array of pieces. With a clang, the crown rolled away. Charlotte swooped down on her slain foe. The cape and hauberk, however, were also missing. They lay shapeless on the grass now, ripped and tumbling; and a shrill howling rose into the quivering air, and faded to a bodiless and thin sound that died, and was sucked up, and w

"Now, how do I look?" It was Friday night and Charlotte hadn't let Camille forget for one minute that they were going out. The pink haired girl hadn't stopped regaling Camille with stories from nights at the Silver Dollar (or the watering hole as it was affectionately called). Camille would be lying if she said that she held the same level of enthusiasm as her best friend but the more she was around Charlotte's excited energy, the more it rubbed off on her until she wasn't so petrified of the situation. Before Camille could say no, she found herself in a long sleeved black number made of crushed velvet and barely made it half way down her shapely legs. It reminded a little too much of the ga

She moved to the floor and laid down with one elbow to prop her up. “I got a few snacks. Popcorn, strawberries, chocolate and some blackberries.” I took the other side and laid down too. Facing her, I grabbed a blackberry and ate it. “You like blackberries?” She asked as she took a strawberry. “They are my favorite.” It was a full moon, slight breeze and just an all around perfect night. “Is that all my stuff?” Charlotte looked around and saw the bags. “It is. I’ll carry it down for you when you are ready to go back down.” Grabbing some popcorn, I munched on that as I looked up at the moon.