Eight Dates Novels & Stories

I wonder now how I never made the connection. “You lie.” She said playfully. Nudging me gently while she rolled her eyes. I laughed. If we were dating for real, I would’ve kissed her by now. But we’re only friends. I know. And I am learning to live with that. . . . . . August decided on our fourth date as we’ve discussed but she wouldn’t tell me what and where it is. The only clue she gave me was that I might not like it entirely. We scheduled it right after the Academy’s Foundation Day Celebration for reasons mostly since, one– she is the Vice President of the Student Council and; two– she’s the Head of the Highbrows, so a lot of responsibilities are put unto her. I tried to help her as muc

September's End "September!" September came rushing to their room holding a spatula when he heard his wife calling out to him. He was wearing a pink apron with a huge heart print in the middle. The words 'Best Dad in the World' was printed with large letters inside the heart. "What's wrong, hon?" He asked worriedly as he walked over their bed where Maeve with a nine months old tummy was panting hard. "I think she's coming out!" She said and once again screamed in agony as she felt another contraction.

Tyson smirked. “31 Days.” Chance affirmed. “Which Day was today”? He asked. “Ninth.” Dr. Tyson added. “Twenty two days to go, man I am gonna savor these.” with a devilish smirk, Chance declared.

" Finally, I turned around. I looked at the broken man kneeling before me—hollow, wasted, nothing like the person he used to be—and I laughed bitterly. "Dan, do you know how many days I begged you? Twenty-eight. "The doctor called you himself. He told you her condition was critical. He told you there was no more time. "And what were you doing? You were enjoying the ocean with Valerie and Theo. Chasing the Northern Lights. Checking off one wish after another for someone else's son.

I was going to update yesterday but forgot :3 My finals are starting on the 29th, and I don't know what to do. Wish me luck. The next update will be here soon. Give your hearts Daisy Chaseley

The seventh birthday falls on a Thursday in November. Again. Always. Ethan's framework, now in its eighth year of revision, holds with complete consistency: Thursdays are the arrival day. Not the day things matter — that is Tuesday — but the day things that will matter arrive. He presented this distinction to Valentina in September with the formality of a researcher presenting a finding he is confident in. She accepted it without endorsing it officially, which is also consistent.

Sharon said as she let out a sigh, glancing back in the direction Raymond had driven off, hoping that her decision to let him go without immediate consequences wouldn't come back to bite her in the ass. The next day, Raymond called Sharon and informed her of his decision. "Sharon, I've thought about it, and I've come to a conclusion. You will have to go on ten dates with me before I can consider forgiving that farm hand of yours," he stated firmly. Sharon's voice trembled with disbelief. "Ten dates? That's outrageous, Raymond! I won't agree to such terms," she protested. Raymond's tone turned cold. "Then consider your farm destroyed. You have until tomorrow to make your decision," he threate

I stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the ruins of what I had carefully decorated. Henry had come running, kicked aside the broken decorations and balloons, and hugged Alice tightly, whispering for her not to hurt herself. He didn’t even notice the lettering on the fallen signboard that read: “Happy 3rd Anniversary.” That’s right. Today was our third mate bond anniversary. However, just like the past three years, the celebration was nothing but a joke. Henry and I had bonded as mates and broken it eight times throughout our three-year relationship. The last time we re-bonded was only a month ago.

“Please… listen to me. There’s no time. The garden… it’s falling…” “The what?” The voice on the other end was annoyed now. “Lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m hanging up now.” “WAIT!” I screamed, the force of it echoing in the tiny room. “Please… just… what is the date? What day is it?” A sigh of pure exasperation. “It’s October 12th. Now, seriously—” October 12th. The day of the charity gala. The night everything began.