Ethan Fair Novels & Stories

So pretty much everyone. Since Tony had known him, Ethan had always been very level headed; he was always the mediator of the group and did all he could to calmly avoid conflict. Very wise for his age indeed. Ethan was an average boy born in the same lovely little town of Dresden, Tennessee that Tony was. He had medium brown hair, deep brown eyes, pale skin, and no shortage of freckles. While he wasn't as massive as Ricky, he was easily two inches taller than him. It was unwise for anyone to cross Ethan. It may have been true that he sought peaceful resolutions for any conflict, but if someone who he cared about was picked on or threatened, expect hell, especially if it was Tony. Ricky was b

"Perhaps, perhaps not." "What's that supposed to mean?" "Erin?" Todd came up beside her. "You'll ride with him right?" "Yes, she will." Ethan cut in before Erin could form a single word. He held out a hand towards Todd. "I don't think we've been formally introduced. I'm Ethan Lachlan." Todd's eyebrows rose in surprise and he whistled, taking the offered hand in a firm handshake. "Ethan Lachlan? The Ethan Lachlan- Holbourn Enterprises?"

Ethan Garcia Ethan is the twin of Addilyn. He has one green eye and a blue eye. He loves his twin to death and is very overprotective of her. He likes to be fun and outgoing. He studies law as time passes by. He has dark brown hair where he inherited from their mother. Addilyn Ruby Garcia or Ruby Addilyn Smith-Garcia.

I glanced at Williams, who remained silent, as if in pain. "It's nothing, Dean. A friend of mine came to visit, and I was happy about it all." Dean looked at Henry, who smiled and extended his hand for a shake. "Hi, my name is Henry, and I'm from the Lycan pack. I used to be a beta to Williams here, but I guess my rights have been taken away." I observed how Dean shook hands with Henry, then turned his attention back to me. "You need to rest, Sierra. You know I don't like seeing you this way."

I teased, forcing a laugh, but my pulse quickened. William had always been the steady one, a mechanic with callused hands that fixed everything, including my broken heart after my last boyfriend ghosted me. From the doorway, Ethan chuckled, the younger stepbrother at twenty-seven, leaning against the frame with a beer in hand. Taller and leaner, with tousled brown hair and a smirk that screamed trouble, he was the artist type, freelancing graphic designs while crashing at home. "Festive? More like torture. Remember last year when he sang off-key the whole drive up?" His green eyes flicked between us, catching the charged air.

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.

a low, gravelly voice sounded nearby. I turned slowly, a soft, natural smile touching my lips. Ethan Reyes was stepping up the timber stairs from the craft house, carrying a long cedar beam over his broad shoulder. He wore a heavy heather-grey henley with the sleeves pushed up past his forearms, showing muscle forged through years of honest, physical work. His dark, wavy hair caught the golden morning light, and his amber eyes met mine with a steady, captivating warmth that sent a quiet electric pulse through my chest.

His gaze drops to my neck, and the corner of his lip quirks. “Blake,” growls Ethan. “What does he want?” When the girl leaves, Blake walks toward us with his hands in the pockets of his breeches. Halfway across the grassy expanse, he halts. Ethan sniffs the air, then jumps to his feet. The two of them turn their heads toward the hill on the other side of the castle. “What is it?” I ask, alarmed, as I get up. “Horses. Fergus. Vladimir. And... and John.” Ethan’s body is rigid, his breathing hard. “They’re coming. I can smell them. And blood. I smell blood. Lots of blood.” He swallows, and his face whitens. “John’s blood.”

One of them, a guy with dark hair and a confident smile, stepped forward. “Ariana,” he greeted smoothly, his eyes narrowing at me. “Who’s your friend?” Ariana nudged me forward. “This is Ruby. She just got her heart broken and needs a distraction.” I glared at her. “Subtle.” The guy chuckled. “That so?” He held out a hand. “I’m Ethan.” I shook it, forcing a smile. “Hi, Ethan.” Ariana leaned in and whispered, “He’s rich. Maybe even richer than Rutherford."

"That's not fair, Ethan. Mia is nothing like that, and you have no right to-" "I have every right," Ethan interrupted, his voice dangerously low. "This is my life, my legacy, and I won't let anyone jeopardize it. Especially not the likes of you or your friend." Evelyn stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never seen this side of Ethan before - the cold, calculating man who seemed to view women as nothing more than liabilities. It was a stark contrast to the man she had glimpsed in the kitchen, the one who had held her so tenderly.