Fnaf Security Breach Roxanne Novels & Stories

"I'm sorry, but this flight is overbooked. We're going to compensate you twenty dollars. Please deplane immediately." The head flight attendant had my suitcase in a death grip. Her tone wasn't a request—it was an order. I gave her a cold look, then turned my gaze to the man beside us, who had just been escorted onto the plane, draped in designer labels. "Why does he get to board after showing up late, while I—who paid full price—am being forced off?" She let out a mocking laugh and lowered her voice to taunt me. "Because he's the son of a top-tier medical conglomerate in Scallow City. He's rushing there to beg an elusive miracle doctor—the famous Phantom Surgeon—to save his life. "No matter how urgent your business is, can it really compare to a human life? If you delay Mr. Stafford, ten lives couldn't pay for it. Now get off." Several security guards dragged me off the plane by force as I watched the cabin doors close. I laughed in sheer disbelief. The "Mr. Stafford" she was talking about was William Stafford, and he was terminally ill. What she didn't know was that I was the very "Phantom Surgeon" his entire family had been on their knees begging for three months—pleading with me to fly to Scallow City and perform his surgery today. Since they threw me off the plane, I won't be doing that operation. As for William, he can go ahead and wait for death.

Slade Norris is a trust fund baby, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t work for a living. In fact he works himself to the bone running a PR firm, security company and … oh yeah, he manages one of the world’s most famous hard rock bands: Feisty. While Slade may have been born with a silver spoon he’s worked extremely hard to prove himself, and make it on his own two feet. As a teenager he met four rough and rowdy boys who were looking to create a band and get famous. Slade knew he was the guy to make it happen and to ensure his buddies didn’t get taken advantage of along the way One big monkey wrench in their plans of world domination in the entertainment world: Slade’s childhood girlfriend and then high school sweetheart Holly Anderson. Holly had been around the guys of Feisty since their inception and was an integral part of helping them write songs and stay on track. Since Holly was a year younger than Slade and the guys, she was stuck at home finishing her senior year when the guys hit it big and left on a world tour. What happened shortly after has haunted them all for their entire adult lives. Can the universe intervene and bring this couple back together for one more chance? Find out in the final installment of my Feisty Series: How To Forgive. This book can be read as a stand alone but it would be best read as the final book in the series as it answers a lot of lingering questions left by the first four books! Thank you for reading.

In our galaxy, there are at least twenty billion Earth-like planets able to sustain life. My name is Skye. I am eighteen years old. Our astronautic scientists discovered a planet within our galaxy with human life similar to ours. By probing this planet’s satellite systems, they have learnt that wars have wracked this world over many millennia, where various zealots strive for dominance. Before setting out on a twenty-year expedition to visit this planet, our group has spent a year being educated in the various languages of this alien world and acquiring the skills to survive in any hostile environment we may find ourselves in. OUR DESTINATION IS EARTH. SKYE is the first book in a trilogy. It is a coming-of-age adventure of Skye, a young alien girl, and her fight to survive in a post-apocalyptic world governed by fundamentalists. After surviving a meteoroid tsunami, her spaceship crash lands in the Mexican wilderness. One of the survivors, Judah, a gifted physician from a superior technological civilization, is discovered in the desert and taken to Texas. Judah is promoted as the new Messiah by a right-wing extremist known as ‘The Preacher’. The Preacher’s propaganda machine convinces America’s devastated survivors that it was the sins of the world’s population that, as prophesized in the Bible, brought down the wrath of God. Judah is exploited to restore the people’s faith in the divinity of God as decreed by the Preacher’s tyrannical interpretation. The Preacher aims to reverse the emancipation achieved by Abraham Lincoln in 1863 and bring about a dictatorship through the reunification of America. Skye must put her trust in a member of the Preacher’s security team to rescue Judah from this new confederacy.

Anaan Cole has always been in control of his life,his choices, his future, and especially his heart. Love has never been a priority, and marriage was something he planned to do on his own terms. Until his grandfather’s will says otherwise. To inherit the empire built over generations, Anaan must marry Nancy Mawethu,the daughter of his late grandfather’s former security officer, a man he once wronged. It feels like a cruel obligation,one Anaan intends to fulfill without letting it change him.But Nancy is not the kind of woman who blends quietly into anyone’s world. Strong, guarded, and quietly defiant, she agrees to the marriage for reasons of her own. She carries questions about her father’s past,questions the incidence that the Cole's family seems determined to avoid. Their marriage begins as nothing more than an agreement,two strangers tied together by a promise neither of them made. There are rules, boundaries, and an understanding to keep emotions out of it. But living under the same roof makes distance impossible. What starts as tension slowly shifts into something more complicated,stolen glances, unexpected conversations, and dreamy moments neither of them can avoid nor explain. Anaan begins to see a side of Nia he didn’t expect and Nancy starts to question the side of Anaan she thought she could never understood. As the truth about the past begins to surface, so do feelings they never planned for. Now, they must decide either to walk away when the obligation is fulfilled or risk everything for a love that was never meant to

On the marking ceremony with my Alpha mate, Sebastian Cole, my world falls apart. A pack of Rogue werewolves kills my mother. The one responsible is Sebastian's stepsister, Cassandra Cole. The security footage captures everything. Cassandra runs out of the cemetery, with a group of Rogues hot on her heels. She bolts into my mother's house, desperate to hide. My mother steps in to protect her and fights back, but in the struggle, her silver rifle is knocked away and lands right at Cassandra's feet. Cassandra could pick it up and kill those Rogues, but she doesn't. She just stands there with a faint smile, watching as the Rogue leader drives his claws through my mother's heart. Later, Sebastian tries to justify her actions. "Vivian, Cassandra was wrong this time... I promise I'll punish her." But I know what I saw. I believe it was murder, and I am bringing charges against Cassandra at the Elder Council Court. However, Sebastian begs me to drop the case. "If Cassandra goes to prison, it'll destroy her! Vivian, don't do this." I can hardly believe what I'm hearing. I refuse him without hesitation. So, he makes another choice. The night before the hearing, he locks me in the basement, trying to stop me from testifying. That's when it finally hits me. No matter what happens, Cassandra will always matter more to Sebastian than I do.

I took a bullet for my boyfriend, Leo. When I woke up, I decided to play a little game. I told him I had amnesia. I wanted to see what he'd do. Instead, I saw a flash of excitement in his eyes. Next thing I know, he brings in his cousin. Dante. The Don of the family. "This is your fiancé, Dante. You've been engaged for two years." Dante. The man who supposedly hated me. Now he was staring at me like I was his whole world. "Yes," he said. "I'm your fiancé." Fine. I'll play along. I need to know what game Leo is playing. That night, I saw it. Security footage in Dante's mansion. Leo, in bed with another woman. He kissed her like he was starving. Pushed inside her. And he talked trash about me. "Let my cousin watch Bella for a while. She's so damn needy. You're what I really need, Scarlett." My heart shattered. He pawned me off on another man. Just so he could screw around. Fine. Two can play at that game. I'll get myself a new fiancé. I put on the wedding dress. I kissed Dante—a deep, devouring kiss, right in front of Leo. And that's when he finally broke. He lost his mind. Told me he was wrong and begged me to come back.

04:00 AM. JFK International Airport. I switched off airplane mode, and my phone lit up. The first notification was an Instagram story from my husband, Donovan Valentino, Don of the Valentino family, posted at 3:30 AM: a photo of Seraphina Moretti’s back, captioned, “Run 50 completed. Package delivered safe.” An hour before that, my flight had hit catastrophic clear-air turbulence, dropping two thousand feet in seconds. I’d clung to my seatbelt until my knuckles turned white, the crumpled threat letter from a rival crew pressed like a blade against my ribs. In those blind, falling seconds, one thought burned through the panic: If I live through this—if Donovan is waiting at arrivals—I’ll tear up my transfer papers to Dubai and stay. But there were no missed calls. No messages. He’d been too busy collecting Seraphina. He knew my flight details. He just didn’t care. Four years of marriage. 50 fully armed security details for Seraphina. For my 112 long-haul flights over those same four years? The most I ever got was a driver in an unmarked sedan. Even the night Gambino’s crew tailed me from Manhattan, and I spent six hours locked in a diner bathroom. He didn’t pick up until dawn, after the twelfth try. My transfer to Dubai was confirmed. The signed divorce settlement was in my bag. This was the last time I’d ever come back for him.

During the mandatory freshman orientation camp, my skin had flared up with a severe allergic reaction, so I didn't use the plastic washbasin the school handed out. Instead, I opened my suitcase and took out the custom silver basin I had brought from home. My roommate, Louisa Carter, immediately made a snide remark, drawling, "You're really something, huh? Kids from broke families like us are lucky to have any basin at all." I didn't bother responding. I simply pulled out my facial essence to do a cold compress, but she immediately rushed over, slapped the bottle out of my hand, and jabbed a finger at my face. "Bet you get tens of thousands a month for living expenses. You have a sugar daddy, don't you? Don't you feel guilty making your folks work their fingers to the bone back on the farm? People like you don't deserve to be at our school. I'm reporting you to the student counselor." I laughed in disbelief and slapped her. … The next morning, the family photo I'd left on my desk had been slashed to ribbons. Across the back, carved in ink, were the words: 'Daughter of a homewrecker. Go to hell.' I went straight to the police. While officers pulled the dorm security footage, our student counselor and the university president rushed in. The moment the president saw the man whose face had been cut apart in my photo, his legs nearly buckled. He almost dropped to his knees.

Stanley Porter, my wife Jessica Evans’ close male friend, and I are both competing to be the next fire captain. In my first lifetime, I was chosen by a unanimous vote. On my very first night on duty as captain, Jessica came over to the fire station to celebrate with me. Sticking to my duties as captain, I didn't touch a single drop of alcohol. Yet, after drinking the chicken soup Jessica gave me, I fell into a deep sleep. That night, a massive fire broke out in the old district, resulting in the deaths of 58 people. Because I missed the station's alarm, I was accused of dereliction of duty and labeled as the main person responsible for the tragedy. The enraged families of the victims ended up beating me to death. In my second lifetime, I withdrew my name from the selection for captain. I handed the badge over to Stanley instead, saying, "You're better suited to be captain than I am." I'd assumed that this was enough to ensure that the fire couldn't be pinned on me. Yet, when the authorities looked into the fire, they ended up seeing me appear in the security footage from where the fire began. Everyone assumed I'd deliberately started the fire to get back at Stanley out of jealousy for losing out on the captain position. I now open my eyes again to live my third life. I watch as Stanley excitedly gives his speech on the podium after being made the captain. This time around, I submit a request for annual leave and take a cab straight to the airport.

Claire nodded, then groaned as he withdrew his finger from her pulsing, aching sex. She heard him walk down the hallway, heard him open the drawer in the bedside table, heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper, heard him approach her again. And that whole time, she stayed where she was: legs trembling and open, hands clenched into fists on the wall, heart pounding and pussy fluttering. Suddenly, he was on her, his cock nudging her from behind, his hands on her hips. Claire whimpered again, pushed back against him. **** John “Griff” Griffin lives by rules. Always has. From the Navy to the SEALs to his job as a bodyguard at Solid Security, control is survival. Protocol saves lives. Boundaries exist for a reason, especially during honeypot ops. Break the rules, and people get hurt. Griff knows that better than anyone. The problem is Claire Worthington. Claire is supposed to be a spoiled socialite hiding after a billion-dollar Ponzi scheme. A criminal. A mark. Instead, she’s living quietly in Denver: working, rebuilding, and starting over like she actually means it. She doesn’t look guilty. She looks… real. When Griff breaks every rule and falls for her, it feels like freedom. It’s also a lie. He’s hiding his name, his job, and the truth – that he was sent to get close and gather evidence. If Claire knew, would she forgive him? Should she? And if she really is guilty, will Griff turn her in… or protect the woman he loves, no matter the cost?