Gomez Morticia Novels & Stories

she asks, tone cautious, eyes flicking between the four of us. Carlos steps forward. His voice is calm, but there's an edge underneath it. “We are here to see Morticia” The woman doesn’t blink. “No one by that name here.” His jaw tightens just slightly. “I know she is inside. Let us talk to her” Carlos says. “I don't know any Morticia. I live with my husband here” the woman says, more firmly now. I glance at Carlos who seems like he is trying stay calm. I sense my parents tense up behind me.

Ava looked stunning in an emerald-green gown, her auburn hair cascading down her shoulders. As Morticia weaved through the crowd, her dress fluttered lightly around her. Distracted, she bumped into someone. "Oh, sorry!" she apologized quickly, looking up at the man who smiled at her. He seemed vaguely familiar. "No, it's fine," he said. But as she moved to leave, he stopped her. "You're Morticia, right?" "Huh? Yeah," Morticia said, giving him a questioning look. "I'm Gideon-Katie's son," he introduced himself.

"Hey everyone, look! Our little 'Mrs. Godfather' is back!" "Mrs. Godfather" was their mocking nickname for her. Ever since Jenna had latched onto Dante, she'd made a point of never coming back here, but the legend of how she went from bartender to a mob boss's mistress was famous. More women poured out of the bar, forming a circle around her. The flashes of cell phone cameras began to pop, the shutter clicks relentless. "Oh my, what happened? Your clothes are all torn," a heavily made-up woman asked with fake concern, her voice dripping with scorn. "Did the Don stop buying you new ones?"

Etiquettes, series of political studies, histories, and other activities a noble must learn. "Mama..." Rita's small voice made Morrigan halt in her tracks. Her eyes widened at Rita. Rita's small hands reached towards Morrigan's cheeks. "Rita?" Confusion etched in Morrigan's eyes, trying to comprehend what Rita wanted to say. Rita's small hands remained on her face then started to pinch her cheeks lightly. "Mama..." Something within Morrigan swirled. A swirl of joy and confusion. The raw emotion of someone calling her a mother makes her heart swell. She never knew that she wanted it for too long, maybe thought that with the loss of Jabez it might be a long way for her to be a mother. "You wan

I uttered nervously and scratched my eyebrow. Is this her grandmother? She looks scary, indeed! "I'm looking for Magda," I said. "I brought some food for her," I added and smiled awkwardly. I scratched the back of my head. I was devastated when her eyes narrowed as if she were reading me. "Who's Magda?" she asked confusedly. "There's no Magda here. Go away!" the old lady scolded me and turned her back. I panicked. I hold the gate quickly to avoid closing it. She stopped because of what I did.

I was still on the same bed I’d been punctured on, only now I was wearing clothes, and the needles were gone. Sitting beside me was a woman dressed in black from her head to her toes. She wore a black hat, her eyes were as dark as a raven’s, and her smile made me shift uneasily. “Who the hell are you?” I asked as she sat there, staring and smiling at me. “I’m Morticia,” the woman said. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. After the way Grey and the organization have been bragging about you, I just knew, darling—you’re special.”

From the looks of her face it was visible that she was excited for this break. They were about to move when a sorrowful squeal drifted towards them. Vera stopped and looked around. She spotted Morticia's little wolf. It clicked as soon as she saw her and rushed towards her. “Oh my, I'm sorry. I forgot about you, Morticia. Come out.” Vera stroked her head. Taking her behind a tree, Vera helped her into her jacket after she transformed. Vera's heart ached because Morticia was smaller in human form. Given she could shift, she was over eighteen but physically she looked like a fifteen year old girl.

Her eyes, lined sharply with black eyeliner, were fixed on me, pricking into my skin like knives. “This is Emilia Motricia,” Jettison replied to her. I didn't fail to catch the irritation that filled his face and roughened his tone the moment he said that. “And Emilia—meet Morticia. A…friend.” The pause afterwards told me everything—she wasn't just a friend; she was trouble. "Emilia...um...that name sounds familiar..." The Morticia’s girl, or whatever her name was, gaze slid over me now, slow and deliberate, like she was trying to find my weakness. “Isn’t that the popular Jason’s mate?” A snarl curled her lips as she asked that.

The supreme dark-priest asked. “I will.” Veronica said with pride hinted on her voice. “Will you honor the duty and responsibilities that it will take you to be Queen, and do you do so willingly take this crown as yours?” The supreme dark-priest once again asked. “I will, and do so willingly what it takes to be Queen.” Veronica answered once more. “Then I declare you,” the supreme dark-priest said and she place the crown on the top of Veronica’s head, “Veronica Lorraine Glaiza Elizabeth Vane, The Queen of Dexo Fernia.” The crown was placed above Veronica’s head.