Ethan Cutkosky 2024 Novels & Stories

My memory recalls the digital course schedule perfectly, and the file stated that tonight’s head hockey lecturer was supposed to be an old elite coach named Justin Meyers. "Your boots are occupying the exact correct spatial coordinates, Collins Parker," Ethan Carter says in a deep boom. His massive frame strides straight down from the elevated stage, his thick claws reaching out to yank the heavy handle of my pink suitcase clean out of my grip. His mouth adds, "Coach Justin Meyers’s system isn't feeling well on the ice today, so my alpha status is currently substituting for his slot." My jaw drops open, leaving my thoughts completely at a loss for words.

Nolan Cunningham's expression soured, a scowl etching itself across his features, casting a shadow over his countenance. "Ethan is the summit?" His voice dripped with disdain, punctuated by a cold chuckle before he continued, "Given Ethan's current situation, all he has to his name is Starlight Entertainment. If he loses his shares in Stellar Enterprises, the Gu family will kick him out. Relying on just an entertainment company... he's basically got nothing."

“We should be thanking you that you have decided to join us and take down Alpha Killian. Do you know how we have tried our very best to take that man down from that throne, but he's just so stubborn and thinks maybe he knows everything about politics and can always ride us? Well, we have our own plans now, and we know it is going to work out for us. We are more than sure that this time around we will be able to eliminate him.” The person said to me. Even though I tried my best to see if I could recognize the voice, I could not recognize anything, so I just nodded and faked the smile as I looked away and then back. Ethan. He was the only one who was not wearing a mask, which seemed like he wa

I asked. Lucas sat down. “Share acquisition timelines. Your travel dates. The names of the secondary brokers.” He paused. “And one other thing.” I looked at him. “She passed a photograph,” he said. “Ethan’s school photo. The one you kept framed on your desk.” I sat with that. The office in Chicago. The small silver frame. Ethan at seven, in his school uniform, looking slightly sideways at the camera because the photographer had asked him to smile and Ethan had found the instruction philosophically questionable.

His gaze landed on Ace, relief flashing across his face. “Ethan,” Ace said without looking away from me. Ethan’s eyes flicked to Sophie and Zane, then back to Ace. “Your ten o’clock is here,” he said carefully. Sophie blinked. “Ten o’clock?” Zane frowned. “Wait—” Ethan turned to them politely. “You must be Mr. and Ms. Carter. I’m Ethan Hayes, Mr. Grant’s personal assistant.” The room went dead silent. Sophie’s face drained of color.

It pointed steadily, not east, but at the computer screen. Eliana read the obituary. Ethan James Caldwell, 16, passed away peacefully on November 3rd, surrounded by family, after a courageous battle with leukemia. Ethan was a junior at Westview High School, where he was known for his quiet humor and his love of astronomy. He is survived by his parents, Margaret and Robert Caldwell, and his beloved sister, Clara, 11. In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations to the pediatric oncology ward at St. Mary's Hospital.

“Which means the other thing I had planned would have to wait.” She tilted her head. “Other thing?” Ethan grinned. “I’ve got a projector behind that curtain. I was going to recreate a full-on award show. I’ve been practicing my Joan Rivers for days.” Just imagining Ethan Laurent, the next Alpha, heir to a fortune, god of Luxemount, doing a Joan Rivers impression made her laugh so hard she had to clutch her stomach “I don’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved,” she managed between giggles “You should be disappointed we’ve got to push it,” Ethan said with mock drama, “because I was fully prepared to roast fake celebrities and cry during your acceptance speech.”

"That cake tastes like drywall. I think I just chewed on a piece of literal cardboard." A loud laugh escaped my lips before I could stop myself. I clamped my hand over my mouth, my shoulders shaking. Ryan just sat there, watching me laugh. "Ava? Are you listening to me, beautiful?" Ethan’s soft voice pulled me back to the present. "Sorry," I said quickly, forcing a smile as I looked up at him. "Just thinking about how loud the music is. What were you saying?" "I was saying that the head coach from the state university is coming this way," Ethan said, adjusting his tie. "My dad wants me to introduce myself. Do you mind coming with me?"

Marcus Ethan called a group meeting when he got back from Vegas. Not a formal thing—just a text to the group chat: Drinks tonight. My place. Need to talk. Jake replied first: Bring good beer. Derek: I'll bring stories. Marcus: I'll bring the wisdom. We showed up at Ethan’s Echo Park apartment at eight, armed with craft beer and takeout. The place was cleaner than usual—Ethan had clearly been nervous. The wall above his desk was covered in new drawings: landscapes, abstracts, a phoenix rising from flames.

Daniel said, whose face also looked confused. The doctor seemed to want to explain further, but Xavier immediately understood that Ethan's vomiting of blood was not related to medical issues. "All right, that's enough! You can go," Xavier said. A moment later, Xavier rushed into Ethan's hospital room with Joss. The young man, who was not yet 25 years old, was asleep. His face looked pale, which made them very worried. While Ethan was still fast asleep, the two men sat on the waiting sofa. Joss remembered his king's words, and said, "Sir, Mr. Ethan said that the woman cannot see his tattoo. Do you think Mr. Ethan trusts us?"