Franky Novels & Stories

“So. I’d like everyone to meet Francis Mark Alexander Jessop. We call him Frankie. He’s named after the three incredibly brave, selfless, heroic people who made sure that we brought him home with us.” Cheers and applause burst out and Francine, Mark, and Alexandra blushed varying shades of pink and magenta. “Well,” Dallas remarked to Olivia as they headed over to meet Frankie properly for the first time. “Thank Christ they didn’t name him after me. Nobody who likes anybody calls them 'Ernest'.”

Spencer let out a soft growl but he didn’t say anything. Pushing away from the wall, I walked into the kitchen. A man with wavy dark hair stood beside the barstools where Spencer and I’d had breakfast this morning. Frankie was tall, his dark hair hung around his shoulders in soft looking waves. He was watching me with eyes that were dark pools with hints of blue in their depths. His skin was pale, like he spent too much time indoors and not enough time in the sunlight. A black shirt was stretched over his chest and his legs were encased in ripped blue jeans.

Frankie instructed. "Yes, sir," the servant responded and headed upstairs. At that moment, Frankie flipped to a childhood photo of Raiden, around five years old, hugging a panda plush toy—completely naked—his little lips pouted in clear discontent. He proudly pointed it out to Skyler, unable to hold back his laughter.

“ I have a favor to ask, Katherine, “ he grunted standing up so I could see his full figure. He was a very short man with a muscular build. He wasn’t old enough to have grey hairs, but somehow he did. I assumed it was because of the stress he faced every day. He didn’t even have time to sit around like me. He was constantly spending time on the vampires’ shenanigans that he could barely be a father, let alone a father figure to the entire pack. Maybe if the vampires could forgive our pack my father would be able to be there. My mother was a submissive who took care of the children and she was exceptional at it. On the other hand, my father was bad with kids but great at work. They balanced e

he said, “Do you know how dangerous it is. Even for wolves and you’re just a human,” “Thanks for saving my life. I’m grateful for that, but you don’t have to worry about me,” The man gazing at me as if I’m a wonder. “Who are you? Why are you here?” I asked. “I’m Alex and I live around here,” he said. “What’s your name?” he asks me. “Serena,” “Serena, where are you from?” The way he said my name, made my heart race. “I’m from Silver Fangs pack,”

the tattooed man asked. “We don’t really know, all we know is that he or she lives here” Mika replied. The tattooed man became more aggressive as he thought he was being mocked. He tried throwing a punch on Mika’s face,but Mika avoided the punch, and threw three continuous punches on the man’s stomach..The man fell down. “Please don’t kill me, I’m Frank but my friends call me funky,I will help you just let me go”He cried. I nearly laughed.

“He’s been under a lot of stress lately. Please forgive him.” He was a large, burly kind of guy with dark hair reaching to his shoulders. But he wasn’t a hippie. He seemed well-groomed, and he looked like he belonged in a historical novel, riding a horse to save his favorite lady. His blue eyes were piercing, his smile disarming as it spread from his lips to light up his entire face. “He’s really a great guy,” another one professed with a smile on his face. “Raymond is my name. Nice to meet you, Ma’am.”

she finished and those amber eyes went to the place I was to also remain immobile before my incredulous gaze. “What did you say your name was?” I asked a few decibels above my regular voice. “Oh, Mark! So good you came, you were the only one missing.” I heard the voice of Kristopolis somewhere in the room, but my eyes were still locked with the woman’s who was a few meters from me, noting how pale she went when she heard my name. “Mark?” she said in a whisper. “Yes... Marcus Sanders.” confirmed Paul looking at her with worry eyes “he is the owner of the company and promoter of the campaign that you will develop… Are you okay?”

She reached out and steadied him upon landing. “I’m fine,” Aaron assured her, though he was soaking wet, a sensation he didn’t particularly care for. “How’s Frank?” “He’s just fine,” Vicky assured him as they both rushed back to the location where Frank’s throat had been cut. Aaron couldn’t believe that was possible. He hadn’t gotten a clear look at exactly what had happened, but it appeared as if the wound were very deep, and he couldn’t imagine Frank was ‘just fine’ only a few minutes later.

I say softly, still smiling as I watch him be all bashful. “Oh, that wouldn’t have been creepy at all,” he says, rolling his eyes and then returning his gaze to me, making me laugh. “Hi, my name is Frank, I’m your childhood best friend’s mafia lackey, training to be his hitman! I read the private emails you send to him, I think you’re cool!” “Awww,” I say, laughing again, “teenage Frankie sounds so friendly.” “No, he was shy,” Frank says with a short laugh and a long sigh. “But…big fan of yours. And then the reality of you, when we found out it was you that Christian brought home from that club?”