Elwood Curtis Novels & Stories

Clinton stood beside me as the instructor set up the board. As we climbed onto the board, Clinton took the lead. He positioned himself first, feeling out the balance and control of the flyboard. With a powerful surge of water from the jets, he lifted off the surface, rising into the air with ease. I watched, breathless, as he soared above the water, his movements smooth and confident.

Although by the looks of things, he knew that he had nothing to worry about. "I feel perfectly fine uncle. I don't feel pain anywhere or any discomfort. I'm good." Ashton said. "That is good to hear. But I will still have to take your pulse." "Please, feel free to do so uncle," Ashton said, and even stretched out his hand obediently. He knew that if not for this man would have already kissed this world goodbye. Maybe he would already be with his parents talking about life and reminiscing about their lives in the afterlife. Eliphas moved forward and took hold of his hand. He concentrated on reading his pulse and after five minutes, he gave out a relieved sigh and even his expression was relax

I grumbled, clearly having a death wish. Except, the man chuckled and I could bet my life savings that the alcohol was to blame because Eddie looked just as flabbergasted as I felt. "Yes, how very cliched but a fickle thing like fucking with the one and only Gunnar Astor, the man who considers himself untouchable, is also the good motive," Mickey rounded his desk, giving me a full-body image of him. He wore a Slate Gray button-down that was open around the chest and had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Inky black slacks hugged his toned legs, "the figlio di puttana will be pissed that his woman came running to me in the end. He'll be pissed that I won and that he lost. He's always hated

I'm sure I like him but let's just wait and see where this will take us. I just can't believe that I, Carmela Thompson is dating Cyrus Steele!

"Well, sort of. I can see flashes of images and feel the emotions that go along with them. Especially if they're catastrophic. And if you've been doing this as long as me, you start getting good at deciphering the pieces of a story." "Okay," Brad says, "So, you think Candice used to be the girl Atticus killed himself over?" "Without a doubt," Mrs. Stephens says. "Her name was Josephine."

Fred says as his voice begins to break and his eyes fill with tears. "And it tore me apart to see you so sad. I decided to make it my mission to get my shit together for you. Because I wanted you to see that even though I was the total opposite from your pops...a man that had it all. A good family, a good business, and a good career. Then, look at me? A high school drop out, struggling from pay check to pay check. You remember when you came? We lived in the outskirts of town on a rundown mobile home." Russell smiles, lowering his head and sighing.

Cornelius stopped me. “Why didn’t you come to me then?” I shook my head. “I thought about it, but I never wanted to put you and your family in danger.” He seemed satisfied with that answer so I continued. “I eventually was out of options so I went to someone I thought could help me. I went to Michael Scott. He was responsible for Carter’s death, but he also had a good reason for it. The night Carter died one of Mike’s men had let me go, so I felt they might be able to help. Mike called Jensen to come from New York to help. Jensen was the one that let me go that night, but at first, he hated me because Carter was responsible for his fiance’s death.”

I groan internally. My name is Mariah Cruz. I'm 17 years old and starting my junior year today. My Father, Mark Cruz, is the current Beta of our pack, The Royal Moon Pack, and my mother, Jennifer Diaz, is the Beta female. My Brother Josh Cruz is 18 years old and a senior in High School. He is training to become the next Beta when our Alpha, Jason Adams, decides to retire and hand the title to his eldest son, Nick Adams. Nick is 18 and is also a senior in high school. He is also my brother's best friend.

'There was a sudden deem lights, Phelan remembers someone, who was Don Carlton telling her to go lay down and rest. She tried to refuse, but he was too strong, and she was unable to stop him. It was so sudden that Don stood, watching Phelan in a distant approached her in a smile that shed some lights in the deem lights that came from the window. A meter from Phelan, Don put his hands on her shoulders, and then made an excuse and left.

He staggered backwards and crouched to the floor as his ears rang. Then he turned towards the familiar voice. "You almost killed me, Greg!" "I didn't mean that," Greg said. A man in his mid-fifties. He had greying hair and dark eyes. He was of average height and he donned a white lab coat that was reaching his knees and under it, he wore blue jeans and a plaid short-sleeved blue shirt. Greg, also known as Dr. Greg, the latter was the term he was often referred to as. He was a research doctor and a friend of Governor Silas.