Ella Frost Novels & Stories

no one dared to speak out. Only one person spoke frankly, mocking, "Thief cries 'stop thief.' Mrs. Frost, the esteemed president's wife of the Frost family, has stooped so low as to plagiarize from her own designer and turn the tables! This is truly disgraceful!" "Shut up!" Jessica angrily stood up, shamelessly saying, "Since you know I'm Mrs. Frost, how dare you spread rumors? Don't you want to stay in Jelaston?!" With that, she glared at me fiercely, turned on her slender high heels, and left in a huff—a clear retreat.

But just like fairytales only one of them was going to catch the attention of the wealthy prince. The Forst mansion was opened up for people for the first time in more than a decade, after the death of Merida, The Frost's had completely cut themselves from the outside world, they would do business with a few of their partners and still managed to be the best amongst all. It was known far and wide that Jordan Frost was not a simple person, he had relations with the underworld bosses and some said that he was the underworld boss himself, which caused him to suffer many losses and amongst them, the biggest was the murder of his beloved daughter.

Nothing lasted. Liz Frost was born on the sixteenth of August, 1963, with her umbilical cord tight around her neck. She fought from the start. On November 12th, 1995, at seven forty in the morning, she sat on her bed, put a gun in her mouth and closed her eyes. The day began.

"But Tobias, if you are not ready, we find a different role. I am not forcing anyone into positions they cannot handle." After giving it some thought, he slowly nodded. "I'll make an effort. But I must be able to tell you if it gets to be too much without feeling like I let you down." "Always. It is now part of the protocol to communicate. No one suffers in silence." The first new arrival under the expansion came three days later. A girl named Frost, seventeen, whose ice powers had awakened during a winter storm. Before her pack caught her, she had frozen the water supply of an entire hamlet in an attempt to prevent a flood, almost killing people from dehydration.

The Frosts' family name glittered like the icy diamonds they were known for, and Selena embodied it all. She ascended the stage at the Frost Theater, her sheer golden gown shimmering under the spotlights, hugging her figure in all the right ways. Her cascading, dark hair framed a face so delicate and radiant, it made every pair of eyes in the room linger. "Ladies and gentlemen," the presenter announced, voice charged with admiration, "the award for Best Actress goes to...Selena Frost!"

The coldness in her voice told me everything I needed to know. I looked up Frost Pelt’s profile, taking note of the names and faces of the government, the alpha, and luna. The young woman was a brunette with hard brown eyes like her father’s. When I went to Frost Melt, none of the names were the same and neither were any of the photos.

~WILLIAM~ “Mrs. Frost is not pregnant.” “What?” I grabbed the document from his hands to see for myself. “She might have had a lot of carbs for the past months; that’s—” “So you’re telling me it’s body fat?” “Yes, Mr. Rogers, Mrs. Frost—” “Stop calling her that!” I yelled as the ‘Mrs. Frost’s title was irritating me—it’s like he was purposely reminding me that Anastasia wasn’t my wife anymore.

she muttered. "Indeed it is. So, what do you say we go celebrate your new job?" Frost asked showing an evil smirk. Chassy really thinks that this Frost is a mist. From the way he is to the way he would sneak in her room. She's not to doubt him, he is the mist.Chassy raised a brow at Frost. "You can't trick me. If I were you I'd just disappear," she said, taking her stuffs and walked away from Frost. But he followed her.

Cynthia stepped out of the elevator and stood in the hallway marveling at the exquisite glass layout of the entire floor, hearing quick footsteps from behind her, she turned to meet a beautiful brunette dressed up in an expensive grey formal office suit exuding elegance with her face adorned in delicate make up. "Mrs Frost?" "Yes"

Waddled up to the door of the Victorian on the bend. Their life seemed perfect. I suppose I was wrong. In any case, the Fosters were inseparable—even when she got older. They would waltz around town laughing; sit at cafes looking like someone ought to be photographing them for a perfume campaign. And it stayed that way for a while, mind you. Until Chloe climbed out from a Taxi—and this I saw through my kitchen window.