Dr Bethany Clary Novels & Stories

She was about to tell the girl to breathe and take things easy when Adriella added, “Some people say I sound conceited when I introduce myself like this but I don’t know, I feel it’s safer for them. You know, so they don't offend me and use the ‘I had no idea’ excuse. I feel it’s a good way to introduce oneself, no? It’s easier to avoid quarrels.” Clara could not hold it in any longer. She snorted a laugh she had been trying so hard not to let spill. “I’m Clara. Clara Thorpe, history and archaeology major. I try to work out once in a while but it is an absolute torture and I’d rather rip my eyeballs out than follow a routine for more than a month. I love urban fantasy, romance, adventure, hi

I said. He nodded. "Good work," he said, in the particular even way that was very Kade and very James simultaneously. Nora appeared from the kitchen. "Section four," she said. "Yes," I said. "The primary right independence argument," she said. "Clara's framing." "Yes," I said. "I want to read more of Clara's work," she said. "Can you send me the papers?" "She is a research fellow at Columbia," I said. "I will introduce you."

Eleanor sat beside them, elegant at seventy-eight, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief even though the ceremony hadn't started yet. "I'm practicing," she said when Damian teased her about it. "I want to be prepared for the real waterworks." Clara arrived just before the procession began, sliding into the seat on Claire's other side. At forty-one, she was now a senior aerospace engineer at NASA - Elena's dream for her daughter had come true. She'd never married, claimed she was too busy changing the world, but she'd been an incredible aunt to the twins. "Remember when we thought we'd never get here?" Clara whispered to Claire as the graduates began filing in. "When you were working double sh

This was a man she looked up to in her career and he was sitting across her… “Seth, Meet Clara. My Personal Assistant. I believe she's a fan.” Seth glanced at Clara, eyes as cold as ever. He stretches his hands for a handshake. “Nice to meet you.” Clara swallows, wiping her hands with a napkin before shaking his hand. “It's an honour to meet you, Sir. I am a huge fan of your growth and resilience.” She pulls her hand away, nervous. “I suppose so. If you're on Thea's team, you're doing something right.” He assured and Clara nodded, unable to meet his gaze.

Clara avoided Drake's scrutinizing gaze and didn't say anything; only more tears fell out of her eyes, wetting the sheets. “Oh dear.” Drake said sighing. He took Clara's hands, giving them a gentle squeeze as he asked softly, “What do you plan to do now? You just won an award, and you have to attend the breast cancer awareness and fundraising program in three days as the guest speaker. Please reconsider your decision to go back home.” Clara looked at Drake's face as realization dawned on her. She explained.

She lets out a relieved breath and climbs out of the car. I get out and she takes my hand. We enter the diner and she hugs close to my side. Clara, our usual waitress meets us and immediately knew Beth was upset. She smiles remembering the last time I brought her here when she was like this. "I'll sat you up in the back so you can have privacy," she says in a soothing tone, rubbing Beth's arm in comfort. Beth nods vigorously and I notice tears slip passed the sunglasses on her face. Clara and I walk with her in the middle and thankfully we were alone in this section. Beth shows her the printout and moments later Clara looks at her surprised.

They had lost touch years ago after Clara went into an elite residency program, but there was no mistaking those sharp, intelligent hazel eyes, the subtle curve of her jaw, and the familiar, luxurious scent of French jasmine perfume she had worn since their dorm room days. Absolutely nobody in the room knew about this connection. To Evelyn and Charlie, this was Dr. Catherine Harrison’s highly recommended private associate, a brilliant, independent specialist brought in to protect the Vane bloodline. For a fraction of a second, Clara’s professional mask cracked, her hazel eyes widening slightly as she recognized the woman standing in the emerald silk dress. But she was a master of her craft.

Shit yeah, this will be awesome. “Finally, I thought I was going to have to come and find you” a feminine voice came from the bathroom, followed by a small woman carrying a hose thing. She plugged the hose into the chair's bath and turned the tap on. “Hey hon, I’m Clary. I’m going to give you a pedicure and full foot treatment” she smiled and stood with her hands on her hips. She was just a tad taller than me with dark brown skin and deep brown eyes. Her hair sat in gorgeous nappy curls in an afro style, giving me a bout of major hair envy. She is beyond gorgeous.

Daphne’s personal nightmare, clad in a short skirt and even shorter crop top, waltzes in without a care in the world. “Mr. Chekhov? I’m Brittany Cleary of Cleary Consulting.” She smiles brightly and shifts her weight in her sky-high heels to pop out a curvy hip. “We’re going to be working very closely together.”

“I can see the appeal of that.” Claire Drill had exploded onto Prime Time TV earlier that year. An exponent of extreme and urban survival skills, the feisty presenter had captured the imagination of a generation of kids—and adult males, if the truth be told—who were mesmerised by her adventures. The “Drill” brand was steadily growing alongside her fan base, and she was currently purveyor of several books, outdoor-store endorsements and even had a signature “Urban Combat Chic” clothing range. Beatrice turned to Lucas with pursed lips. “What you can ‘see’ is a woman in tight vest tops crawling through mud.”