Deena Johnson Novels & Stories

snaps Will. "The lady wanted to leave," Chris smirks, earning a throaty snarl from Will. "She belongs to me." "You don't get to claim your wolf territorial bullshit on her. She's not one of you," Johns says, almost boredly. Will snarls again. "If she didn't need me to stay awake. I'd introduce you to that wolf bullshit," he reaches for my hand, his other hand remaining curled around the back of my neck softly. "What do you mean?" I ask. He looks at me, opening his mouth when the door is opened. I hear Dyl's voice as he approaches the bed.

Women danced in various costumes, some elaborate, others minimal. A woman in a black suit approached me. Older, confident, the kind of person who'd seen everything twice and wasn't impressed anymore. "First time?" she asked. "That obvious?" "You have that look." She gestured toward the back. "I'm Madam Fantasy. I run this establishment. What can we do for you?" "I have a Private booth. And I was recommended someone named Jailbird." She lifted an eyebrow, not surprised but definitely more attentive now. “Jailbird is one of our most requested performers. I hope you understand she doesn't come cheap.”

“My goodness, you scared the life out of me!” Aunt Caroline was a short and plump woman in her mid-forties. Her hair was always dyed blonde because she took after her idol Madonna. She kept her face hidden with all the cosmetics she covered it. The only time she was seen without her make-up was when she applied facial mask. “Aunt Caroline? What’s got you all fired up?” Yet inside Ellaine’s head she was still thinking about the empty town and the huge tree. “You were having a bad dream!”

“I don't know, it's not a number I have saved.” “Why don't you look at it?” “It must be from the cell phone company offering some service... Are you staying much longer?” “Just a little while.” “Okay... I'm going to bed.” A quick kiss, a caress on her belly, and Deanna left. She looked at the stairs, knowing that soon she wouldn't be able to climb them anymore. Before getting into bed, she looked at herself in the mirror on the dresser. “I'll never get my waist back,” she thought. She was about to cover herself with the sheets when the vibrations became continuous; it was no longer a message, it was a call.

added Lisa. Just as they finished dinner, the home phone rang. Paula answered it and summoned Gwen. "Hello, Gwen. I don't know if you remember me. I'm John Dixon, but I go by Johnnie Dee. I worked the Tim Archer benefit and you were 'the Lady in Red'. I've been asked to emcee a memorial tribute Saturday evening at the Church of Saints. It's that really big church over on Third Street.

“Then? What else do you know?” “We have news that will surprise you, Mr. Levi.” “What is it?” The man smiled as he looked at the men who shared his profession. “Would you like to treat us tonight as payment for this news?” "That's easy. Tell me what will surprise me. If I'm not surprised, I'll break your necks one by one." “You're very cruel, Mr. Levi.” The man handed Levi several sheets of paper. “This is some news about a missing person. Deanna is a woman who was reported missing several months ago from a hospital in Manhattan. The police are still searching for her in Manhattan.”

Deena said as she stood up to leave. "I know where Caine is," Della said. "You do?" Joy asked her in a surprised tone, as she stood up as well. "Yes, he went to kill Mister," Della said as she busted out in tears again. "You won't reach him or find him. I bet you money that John is missing too," She told her mother and her friends. "Della you need to calm down," Deena reminded her sternly. "I know, I'm trying," Della sobbed as she tried desperately to gain control of her emotions.

“Miss Isabella.” I turned to find a tall woman with severe features, her dark hair pinned back in a tight bun. She wore a plain black dress with an apron, her hands clasped in front of her like a soldier awaiting orders. Her eyes held a mix of pity and judgment that made my skin crawl. “I’m Deena,” she said, her voice clipped and professional. “I will be overseeing your stay here.” I forced myself to nod, unwilling to show any sign of the unease bubbling within me. “Thank you, Deena.”

The woman who was asking the questions to Max’s mother, Marie. “I am Deanna Watson. I am her second son’s girlfriend. I am not here to interrupt or try to say anything because I don’t know anything. Max, her son, and I just arrived a little while ago. I haven’t been here before, and I don’t think Max has been in here a few years. I just want Mrs. Anderson to have someone for comfort.” Deanna said as Max looked on. His mother patted the younger woman’s hand as she spoke.

He had glasses and greeted us warmly when we entered. "Mr Richard Hayes and Mrs Rachel Hayes, Welcome to 'DALEWOOD COLLEGE'. It is a pleasure meeting you and we are honoured to have your daughter here," The Dean said, warmly and added, "I am Darren Johnson. As you know already, I am the Dean of this college." He smiled widely, somehow proud of his title. "It's a pleasure meeting you too, Mr Johnson," Dad said, and shaked hands with him. "This is my son, Ethan Hayes and as you know already, she is Summer," Dad explained, pointing at us. We smiled at him.