Claire Booth Novels & Stories

I asked calmly, hoping that she’d say yes. "I am certain that I'll be able to." she said, then I made a silent wish hoping that Bill’s theory was correct. "Alright, look at the following picture on my phone, swipe to your right until you recognize the person" I said and gave her my phone. I had gathered the picture of every female in the pack. Not wanting to wait for Lucy again. Claire swiped through the pictures on the phone uttering "no" on each one, with Nelson sitting on the other side of her. The first was Lucy Richards, then Maya Woods , then Nora Walker, Anna Perkins , then Jennifer Alvarez, then Zoe Wilson , then Eva Watkins

I know her favorite flowers are Tulips so I also have them but the plant wasn't available so rose was the safest option. I ring the bell after parking my black rover in front of her door to be clicked by the paparazzi. I dressed extra nice even though I look hot everyday. Claire opens the door and her hair is messy and she has changed into some black leggings and a tank top showing her collarbone. She is not wearing any makeup but she is looking as beautiful as ever. I could look at her all day and never get tired of her. I have dated many girls in past ,had spent "nights" with some of them but I have only ever found two girls beautiful. One ,Rose ,we have some history but it is to be sha

she affirmed and the King nodded slightly Claire walk out of the room after having a satisfactory discussion with the King she breathed out deeply as she step outside, thanks to her quick thinking this would have been a difficult task to tackle, the solution she chose might not have been right but then it’s the only possible and convincing way to solve the problem quicker, innocent people has to suffer loss and death afterall if not how would she and her brother attain higher places. ********

she shouted excitedly. A girl walks towards them, dressed in a uniform for salesladies. She showed a professional smile and bowed to them. "Good afternoon, may I ask what you are looking for so I can assist you," the girl said. "Oh we're just looking for clothes for babies," Tara said. "May I ask how many months old the baby is?" The girl asks in a businesslike manner. Amelia reflexively held her flat stomach, "The baby's not born yet" she said and a gentle smile formed in her lips.

"I planned everything. I didn’t wanna be a nobody forever. I knew I looked like Mr. Bradford’s late wife... so I took advantage of it." "What about Gabriel?" someone shouted. "Were you two in on it?" "This has nothing to do with Gabriel!" Claire snapped. "I used him too he’s just another victim." The reporters smelled blood, shouting more questions but Claire didn’t listen. "I’ve said enough," she said and turned to leave. Jason didn’t stop her. He just watched, silent and still. Claire bolted from the venue, reporters right behind her. Jason gave a subtle nod, and security blocked them off, buying her time.

The password was “midnight jasmine.” Clara Beaumont whispered it to the man at the hidden door behind the tailor’s shop, her heart racing beneath the beads and fringe of her flapper dress. At 28, she had come to the city seeking excitement after a stifling year in her quiet hometown. Tonight, she was dressed for it: a shimmering gold dress that barely reached mid-thigh, with a plunging neckline that showed off her full breasts and a string of pearls swaying between them. Her dark hair was cut in a sleek bob, lips painted crimson, and her eyes sparkled with nervous anticipation behind smoky makeup.

he added I arched my eyebrow, my eyes darting around in confusion . I merely sighed, a little too eager for a maid ! And dangerous too …. The television flickered on, shutter sounds stormed my eardrums. Light flickering as cameras rolled . A woman wearing a satin-blue dress walked towards the paparazzi, her shoulders held high. My eyes widened as I read the caption , “Claire Jackson , the future of entertainment” She was being accompanied by …by my previous manager , Maxwell Brookes.

Life was quiet and bright. I, Claire Hart, had been given a second chance at life. I sought only wealth, not love. But I had won something far more precious than money: dignity, family, and myself. The End

The woman who once stood at that altar was now ready to help me burn the whole damn family down, and I agreed to it. We met the next morning at this quiet little legal office on the west side. Claire had picked it herself, somewhere the Hales would never think to look. That told me everything I needed to know. She hadn’t just woken up and decided this. She’d been planning it all along, quietly and carefully. Her lawyer, Denise Okafor, was all sharp focus and no bullshit. The papers were already waiting, three pages, neat and typed. Claire sat there when I walked in, simple dress, hair pulled back tight.

Despite being looked down upon by others and restricted from outdoor shoots, she had previously won the Best Photo award. Rita was particularly interested in the social category, but her qualifications were not sufficient. Thus, she decided to hone her skills in entertainment photography. The entire venue quieted down as all eyes focused on the center stage, where Claire, the youngest contemporary dancer to embark on a national tour, was about to appear. Even Rita found herself intrigued. Claire was undoubtedly one of the top figures in contemporary dance with international newspapers once describing her as a graceful swan. This high praise reflected just how highly regarded Claire was in th