Cynthia Eden Novels & Stories

How do two different people have the same story, coming from the future? Eden became curious and had the intention of finding the woman, as well as Alphu Elden who may still be alive. ♡♡♡

Cynthia grabbed the bottles of cosmetics on the makeup table, and flung them in Jennifer’s direction. A bottle hit Jennifer and it hurt a little. She furrowed her brows, and then flicked her sleeve. “As it turns out, we all came here for nothing. How embarrassing to be the butt of everyone’s jokes. Please be more careful next time, and make sure the other party genuinely wants to marry you first.” With that, Jennifer turned to leave. Cynthia wiped the tears away from her face hard. Her phone dinged, and she saw a notification. Cynthia picked up her phone, and read the news article. The headline read, “Theodore Spencer’s wife kidnapped, her fate remains unknown.”

"I am Alpha Ezekiel, this is the Bloodhound pack. And you are a rouge in my house, surrounded by my warriors, and my pack of 1500 men. You're not the one with the power here, I am. So when I ask a question I except it answered. Now. Who. Are. You?" I clenched my jaw in frustration, he was right. I had no power. No choice. He could do anything to me right now. And I wouldn't have any help or any way to stop him. I nearly reached at the thought. I was fucked. Royally. With that in mind I responded to his question; "Cecil." "And where did you came from? Are there any more like you?" He fired the questions in quick succession. "The East Coast, I travel alone and have not come across another fema

When I brought Gabe here, Bob said that his wife was out of town for a few weeks at some sort of symposium or business thing. I quickly get dressed and meet Gabe and Christine in the kitchen. Christine hands me a cup of coffee, as she is filling Gabe in on her trip. “The place they put us up at was really nice though, had a spa, and shit. So, that made up for the boredom of the lectures that assaulted my ear holes.”, Her hands doing a good bit of the talking for her. I smile at how happy she is. Its effortless for her, and almost childlike. “Christine, Hannah; Hannah, Christine” Gabe introduces us. “I hear you are quite the warrior Hannah.” She excitedly tells me, her strawberry blond

Three days passed in the blink of an eye, and Friday came. In the evening, Maureen sent Zion over. She said that she had matters to attend to and that she had to leave, and that she would not come over to sleep here at night. Cynthia understood, and she knew that she must have received and sent him off for many days. Cynthia was preparing dinner. She had been wearing one of her favorite clothes at home. It was a long, loose T-shirt, and she wasn't wearing bar yet. It was the most comfortable position for a woman.

Wasn't God just good? I raised my hand to the lady's head sympathetically as I ran my hands through her hair. I almost felt sorry for her already. She let out a shaky breath, whimpering out her answer, “Cynthia…” Denzel smiled brightly, the expression completely contradicting what he was about to do. “Aw, that's cute. You remind me of my mum, Cynthia. But she's dead though.” A beat of silence, and then, “Now just breathe, okay? This'll be over before you know it. Babe, help me out.”

The vegetation that was everywhere one could look was lush, even tropical looking almost. “How is this possible?” I asked of no one in particular. The Captain answered, “Welcome to Eden. You may well be the first Russian to see this place, at least we can hope so.” As he said that I didn’t miss the dark look given to me by the CIA dude. Must have a thing against Russians, only I really wasn’t Russian, rather I was an American and yet I seemed to have none of the rights of one. The Captain went on, “What we’re floating along into right now is a jolly old caldera of a mostly sunken volcano.”

Cynthia was a little on the short side but built like a brick shit house, with big tits, a narrow waist and gorgeous long auburn hair. Mitch wasn't a fool; the crowd in the bar was an equal mix of men and women ranging from the older bikers Mitch hung with to the college students from PC, URI and RIC. Mark and Cynthia were eye candy for both types of crowds and both played the part, flirting their asses off. Once in awhile, after a couple of shots, Cynthia would even hop up on the bar in her short skirt and give the bikers a bit of a show dancing to the juke box. She had done it last week and ended up with at least $50 thrown at her.

~Elena's POV~ The rain hammered against the windows of Elena's suburban home, a relentless drumbeat that mirrored the ache in her chest. It had been three years since the accident...three long, hollow years since her husband, Mark, was ripped away in that crumpled car on the interstate. At 35, Elena still looked like the vibrant woman he'd married: long auburn hair that fell in waves to her shoulders, green eyes that held a quiet storm, and a body that time hadn't softened...curves honed by yoga and grief-fueled runs, full C-cup breasts that strained against her fitted sweaters, a narrow waist flaring to hips that swayed with an unconscious grace.

Even so, it did not have the slightest effect on her unique charisma and demeanor. She was greeting her guests. Meanwhile, Bobby was escorting her the whole time. Together with James, Cynthia walked over to Thea. Thea saw them approaching from afar. Upon seeing how intimate James was with another woman, she momentarily froze. Then, she smiled and greeted, “Cynthia, you’re here.” “Mhm.” Cynthia gently nodded. Cynthia was a member of the Dawn family. She was a big shot. Hence, she was someone Thea and the Callahans wanted to curry favor with.