Franny Glass Novels & Stories

​The air in the foyer of the Glass House didn’t just feel cold; it felt ancient. It was as if the return of Claire Vance had brought back a draft from twenty years ago, a chill that no amount of industrial heating or high-end architectural insulation could mask. She stood at the base of the grand staircase, her black silk gown pooling around her feet like a shadow. To the world, she was a tragedy a woman whose car had tumbled over a cliff two decades ago, leaving behind a shattered husband and a motherless child. To Elena, she was a nightmare that had suddenly found flesh.

The child who would never know a father who made their mother kneel for another woman. Her head snapped up. Sandra took the glass from Ryan’s hand. Her fingers were steady now. Calm. She raised her head slowly, meeting his eyes without fear. Then, without a moment’s hesitation Smash. The glass shattered against the marble floor, red wine spraying across Ryan’s expensive shoes and Jasmine’s white dress like blood. Pieces of crystal scattered everywhere, sharp and dangerous. The room gasped. Sandra stood over the broken glass, her chest rising and falling with controlled fury. Her eyes were red, but not from tears. From fire.

I gasped as my eyes devoured her bare perky tits. Franny is a pure natural redhead with soft light auburn red hair, milky white skin and the most erotic puffy pink nipples I have ever seen. I could feel my dick drooling warm sticky precum into my shorts as I gawked at her gorgeous perky little cone shaped tits.

one of the men said as he started walking toward me with a smug look on his face. "I'm not going anywhere with you, and you're going to regret coming into this shop tonight because I have a brother who is dying and I don't have time to play games with my father’s old lapdogs," I replied as I reached behind me and grabbed a heavy glass jar of antiseptic from the counter. I threw the jar at his head and he ducked just enough for it to miss, but it gave me the second I needed to lung forward and drive a jagged shard of glass from the broken window into the soft spot under his chin.

One of them wore glasses and appeared to have some standing among them, making the orders before anyone else could. When she was finished, she said, "That's all I need… What else would you like, Mr. Frankton?" Frank shook his head. "You girls decide!" The lady in glasses nodded. "Well then, you've had your chance! So, what are you going to drink?" "Spirits will do, if they have any." The lady's face lit up. "Impressive, Mr. Frankton! You can hold your liquor despite looking young! What a coincidence—I just happened to have some bottles of rum stored here! Waiter, bring them up!"

Franca sits in front of the bar with a glass of wine in front of her, she held the wine glass in her hand and angrily pours the wine down her throat in anger. She thought back to her asking her mom for her school fees but her response got her angry that she doesn't have when she could see her getting ready to go to a party. She hissed and asked the bartender to pour her another glass then she sights a very handsome man, tall, dark, six packs walk into the club, he walked to the bar and sits beside her, he asked the bartender to serve him a glass of wine.

A thin, jagged crack appeared in the glass. “Be careful!” Cassandra snapped. “That’s a Waterford.” “Sorry,” Aria whispered. She wasn’t sorry about the bowl. She was sorry she was still breathing. She was sorry she was the shadow in the silver dress, waiting for a man who used silence as a weapon.

In a fit, Lucy knocks the glass right off her father’s hands, the glass shatters as it connects with the floor. He looks at her in surprise, cheeks bleating red, Lucy’s chest is heaving frantically. “I saw a cockroach on your glass.” She says. “A cockroach?” Mr. Foyer asks. Hunter and Linda drop their glasses and Lucy immediately signals for the chef to take them away. It remains Irene’s and I glasses. Like I said before, I am not a dumb person. Hurriedly, I gulp down the whole glass and everyone looks at me in surprise, Lucy’s horror face deserves to be taken on camera, I look at Irene with gleaming eyes, grabbing her glass, her green eyes shine with confusion.

Francesco's gaze is enough to make me pee in my panties. I have never been more scared of anyone than I am right now because of Francesco. “Get up!” He commanded and I jumped up. “Strip! I want all your clothes gone.” He said, his voice full of authority. “Francesco? I mean… Don. I can't do that.” I trembled. “Should I assist you instead?” He bellowed. I looked away for a moment before I returned my attention to him. It is only a matter of a few days. The shattered glass syndrome is at play already. I will just do as he had ordered.

I'm ready. We both hold the delicate wine glass. “ Uno, due, tre ,” I said, then dropped the glass. It bounced, but didn't break. The rod broke, but otherwise the glass remained intact, rolling sideways until it stopped. Francesca gasped, while Zia quickly made mano cornuto, the horns sign, toward the glass to ward off any evil spirits. — Faust! — Horror laced Francesca's voice. — It's supposed to break. I put my arm around her waist and spoke softly into her ear. —It means nothing, a stupid tradition from the past.