Connie Aot Novels & Stories

His Jeep was loaded down when he made his way to the cabin where the rogues had Connie tied up. “You don’t know how much this turns me on, Walker.” “Fuck off, Connie, you’re about to take a little visit to the cemetery or Temperance, which one ya want?” Connor sighed, “As much as I’d love to take credit for trying to kill little miss fucking sunshine, I didn’t get to her first.” “How am I supposed to believe that?” Connie laughed, “I would have done it right the first time and the bitch would be dead. ” “You don’t have to be like this,” Walker said, “Tell me what you know.”

‘But I’m sure you did what you had to do. Connie managed a faint smile. ‘Thank you.’ Logan noticed that Connie made no mention of her husband Brayden, or the fact that he used to date Alessia. ‘Imagine my surprise when I saw her here,’ Connie said with a sigh. Then she asked, ‘Is she working for you now?’ Logan replied vaguely, ‘In a sense, yes.’ ‘Well, I do hope you could take care of her,’ Connie said. ‘She’s my sister, after all.’

Taking one last deep breath, I open the car door and step out, taking in the fresh scent of the untouched woods around me, reminding me of the peace that I felt the last time here. The door to the cabin opens and Aunt Connie appears on the small front porch, with her hands on her hips and asks, “What took you so long to get here?” Aunt Connie’s eyes then moved to Luna Rayne, and she asks, “And who is this?”

’ ‘It was a business lunch, Connie. She’d been given a bowl of chicken soup by the owner of the local Chinese restaurant while his teenage son translated the document she’d found. Nate had been very fond of Chinese food and they’d all been so sweet to her. So kind. She’d even managed a couple of mouthfuls of the soup. Connie wasn’t impressed by her ‘business lunch’, however. ‘What kind of business you do dressed like that, huh? What would Mr Nate say if he saw you go out like that?’

“This is a hunt, not a social hour.” “Connie, don’t be such a stick in the mud,” Trillium pouted, her husky voice curled around the edges like a 1940’s movie star–all breath and high-pitched syllables. “Mavey and I are catching up. We can always catch some stupid rabbit or turkey or whatever later.” “It’s quail,” Connor corrects, pointing to his own copy of the list, “and wild boar, neither of which will come anywhere near us unless we are much quieter.”

Ashton’s POV “You went to the art show, Ashton?” Connie nearly hissed, stepping in front of me as I sat on the couch in my living room. “What are you even still doing here, Connie?” I muttered, kicking off my shoes. “Didn’t your contract end a week ago?” She pouted, folding her arms across her chest. “Yes,” she answered. “But I don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m in between jobs and my next contract doesn’t start for another couple of weeks.”

The people behind Connie also wore the same logo and some were the Damien's that the Bowen brothers met before. Connie gave a cold smile, but did not seem to loosen her grip at any moment. "Are you trying to take advantage of me, Connie Jordan? I'm now standing right in front of you. Do what you can!" Oliver also seemed to realize something. "Connie, you are the Connie?! You?!..." His words instantly shocked the entire Damien Family. When did Connie become Connie Jordan... Now, everyone started to remember Connie's vague explanation of her whereabouts over the years when she first returned, she explained that she was mining in Africa.

“You’re going to make everyone cry.” “Maybe,” I said, feeling a warm flutter in my chest. Then I heard his voice. Across the parking lot, Connor leaned against his car, backpack slung over one shoulder, smiling like the world belonged to him — or maybe like I belonged to him . “Hey, Sparrow!” he called. Chelsea and Laila stopped in mid-step, eyebrows raised. “Sparrow?” Chelsea whispered. “It’s… a thing,” I muttered, cheeks heating. Connor waved, grinning. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

Travis Adeno was the country's best footballer. One night, while being followed by a set of relentless paparazzi, he stumbled into a dancing studio and found Connie. Sweet, delicate, graceful Connie. She was a ballerina, and he had watched her dance, mesmerised by the lithe sway of her body, hungry and yearning for her. His breath had been knocked out when her pretty blue eyes met his, and she grinned at him.

“You are Winifred Zea?” Connie looked at Winifred, the muscles on her face twitched slightly. “That is right. And you are here for me?” “Exactly.” Connie regained her composure after the initial confusion. She continued, “I will introduce myself. My name is Connie Yorke, and I am from Prime City. I am here not for what happened just now, though.” Winifred Zea was perplexed. She had never heard of the name Connie Yorke nor seen that name among any of Autumn Field Group’s business partners.