Ghost Whisperer Professor Payne Novels & Stories

“The secrecy. The way they had to stay quiet all the time. What about keeping the ‘SHHHH…’ element? Something like *SHHHH… Professor* or *SHHHH… Don’t Tell*. I don’t want to lose that sense of someone holding a finger to their lips.” There was a short pause on the line. Then Melissa laughed softly, the sound bright and pleased. “That’s better. That’s sticky. That’s the kind of title people will remember when they’re scrolling. Let me run with *SHHHH… Professor* and see how it lands with the editors. I’ll send the formal offer paperwork this afternoon. We’re going to sell this one, Juliet. I’m confident.” When the call ended, Juliet closed the laptop lid and just sat there. Her hands were sha

*Edited Breanna's POV Finally, he blinked twice and nodded, backing away from the table, Breanna was tempted to let out a huff of breath she had been holding, but refrained, wanting him to be as far as possible before she did so. Then his next words made her hiccup. "I'll wait." He said softly, she almost died, her throat tightened, chocking silently on her own breath, she felt her face redden. It was easier to talk to him over the phone, but now that he was here, it felt weird. He was the infamous Professor Caines, that was as tough as nails, secretly evil judging by the frown he wears and hates his students with passion.

“Buy a coffee.” “Are you… blackmailing me?” “Yes, I am,” Sandra replied without a hint of shame. “I’ll be waiting—and dress nicely, alright? No sunglasses.” With that, she hung up. Jessica shook her head and placed the phone down on the table. “Mylene, what time is our event for the Whiteheart Charity?” she asked, steadying her voice. “3:00 p.m., Ma’am.” She glanced at her watch, it was already two o’clock.

“Good morning all, I am Professor Emily. This should be my first time standing in front of you all. Prof. John is currently on leave, so I will cover his topics.” “We will discuss the Dark Web intensively.” Prof. John on leave? That means enough time to pound Grandma. Damn! Is he aware that my grandmother has a waist-related seizure? My mind pictured their bedroom chronicles, with Granny’s legs spread apart and Professor John’s pot belly lying heavily on her. “Shit!” “I beg your pardon?” Professor Emily said. Shoot me. I didn’t know when I exclaimed it out loud. “My apologies.” Her face didn’t look like she took it well. She has a very fine face, if only she could smile more often.

At precisely four o'clock, the sun cast a warm, golden glow across the city. Missis Natalie sat patiently on the plush chair by the glass window; anxiously awaited the call from her trusted man to finalize the fate of Miguel and Marcus. Her fingers tapped impatiently on the polished surface of the desk, eyes fixed on her phone. Finally, the screen lit up. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she answered the call. "Yes?" "Ma'am, it's Davis. Boss wants you to prepare the huge payment for the heads of the two. We've got them." Davis' voice was cold and detached, the weight of his words chilling to the bone.

He pouted in mock hurt but allowed himself to be led out, they were a few feet from the exit when a chilling voice called out, "Miss Greenley?" She froze almost instantly, wishing upon everything that it was an illusion. That the man she currently felt like murdering...and fucking wasn't calling her right now, But it seemed she had run out of luck when his voice called again, "Miss Greenley, a word please?" Maya clenched her teeth and steeled her gaze, glancing at Jason who looked confused as hell before turning back to the professor, whose deep black eyes were watching her carefully. "Would it be alright if I spoke to you for a minute? Alone?" He asked, tilting his head.

his favorite words sounded in her head, and she quickly took her finger off the mark. It was at that moment she realized someone else is in the room with her. She turned back swiftly, grabbing a knife from the wall hanger which she tried throwing backwards, but strong hands captured her Immediately, and she came face to face with Tiger. Why is he always showing up anything she's thinking about Denzel? How did he even get here without her noticing? Only those trained in Atlanta know the silent steps skill, walking without making the slightest sound. Who the hell is he! "You're a spy, aren't you? You knowingly allowed me to capture you!" She muttered, and Tiger stared down at her naked body fo

“I don’t know. I mean—I don’t want to think that. And it’s not the professor either. I know that much. They would tell me if they are trying to surprise me, especially in a time like this.” “So who then?” “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. You have any way to trace that trust fund or something?” “I can look into it,” Bryan said. “But it’ll take time. People who pay through shells like that usually don’t want to be found.” “Yeah,” I muttered. “Figured as much.” There was a soft click, and suddenly the call dropped. I frowned at the screen. “Bryan?” Nothing. Just the quiet buzz of an ended call.

I stepped up to the microphone first, heart pounding. “My name is Professor Zira Voss. I am twenty-nine years old. For several months, I was the anonymous patron known as Obsidian Queen on a private cam platform. I tipped generously and engaged in explicit conversations with the performer known as Shadowed Knight. I did not know his real identity until he became my student.” The room exploded with noise. I held up my hand.

"You really don't know who Grayson is, do you?" "Rich guy. CEO. Jerk." Marcus laughed. "Youngest CEO of Vaughn Enterprises. Fortune 500. Net worth over four billion." He paused. "And yes, definitely a jerk sometimes. But he has his reasons." Luna wanted to ask what those reasons were, but a thin, elderly man with wire-rimmed glasses entered the room. "Mrs. Vaughn," he said, bowing slightly. "I am Professor Whitaker. Shall we begin?" The next four hours were a blur of art terms, techniques, and famous paintings. Luna's head spun with words like "pentimento" and "impasto" and "sfumato." By the time the professor left, her brain felt like mush.