Goodnites Stories Novels & Stories

However, he was not having any of it, claiming he was swamped with work and too drained to join me. Funny, he had all the energy in the world for Yvonne's video trips but not a minute to spare for me. [Hey, it's Friday night, you free? Let's grab a drink.] That was what I texted my friends, and boom, they were all in. We spent the whole night chatting away, and I felt like my old, unstoppable self again. I crashed at a hotel and woke up to a flood of missed calls from Lucas. When I got home, there he was, sprawled on the couch, looking like he had been through the wringer. His eyes lit up when he saw me. "Where were you last night?" he asked.

I told them about the moon that fell in love with the sea but could never touch it, about the brave girl who taught the stars how to sing, about the fox who tricked winter into leaving early. My mother’s voice echoed faintly in my mind as I spoke, threading comfort through the words. One by one, their breathing slowed. Shayla drifted off first, clutching her stuffed rabbit. Mira had already succumbed. Lucas fought the longest, eyes drooping stubbornly until finally, sleep claimed him too. I kissed each forehead. “Goodnight,” I whispered. “I love you.” Blankets were tucked. Nightlights adjusted. Curtains drawn. For a long moment, I simply stood there, watching them breathe.

I whispered with a loving smile, "which story would you like tonight?" Mathew's face lit up with excitement, his tiny hands reaching for his favorite book. "The one about the brave little wolf, Mumma!" I chuckled as I opened the book, a captivating story about a young wolf's grand adventure. Mathew listened with rapt attention, his eager eyes fixed on the pages as I spun the tale of bravery and exploration. By the time I reached the part where the little wolf found solace under the silvery glow of the moon, my son was already fast asleep.

There had to be more. I sighed heavily and wished the message would vanish from my phone screen. Where on earth was I supposed to get $10 million? It was now 10 p.m. I fixed my hair, heart pounding with anticipation. Jerome had texted again saying Fiona had gone home, Jordan was asleep, and all the other guards were off duty for the night. Since it was Jerome’s shift, I could sneak in. Maya was already snoring, so I tiptoed out of the apartment. I wasn’t in the mood for another lecture.

"Mom? What's wrong? Why was someone yelling?" "Nothing, baby. Just some grown-up drama." I pulled him into a hug. "Everything's fine. How about that story now?" "Okay." But he looked worried. "Was that Dad's other wife? The mean one?" "Yes. But she's gone now and she's not coming back." "Good. I don't like her." He took my hand. "Can we read two stories tonight? I'm not very sleepy." "Two stories it is." We settled onto his bed, Lucas tucked against my side as I read about dragons and knights and adventures. His breathing gradually evened out, his eyes drooping, until finally he was asleep.

“Fine. But promise me you’ll stay away from Winchester Forest. People go missing there. Hikers, campers… they just vanish. It’s not a joke.” “I promise, Mom. We’re going to Blackthorn Ridge camping grounds, nowhere near Winchester. I’ll be careful. We’ll watch out for each other.” She pulled me into a tight hug, then kissed my forehead. “Text me every night. I love you, baby.” “I love you too.” I said goodbye to my stepfather with a quick, awkward wave. His hand brushed my lower back a little too low as I turned to leave. I ignored the strange flutter it caused and hurried outside.

I asked, curiosity laced in my tone. “Every person you see at Wet Nights today has a story to tell. Nobody ended up here by luck, we all are criminals hiding under Wet Nights. In a place filled with criminals, we no longer fight for authority, we fight for fear, leadership!” Synn rolled her eyes towards me, and my heart skipped for a minute. My lips parted slightly but no words could come out. Still shocked and slightly terrified by what Synn was saying. How did she manage to know all of this?

Micah cracked one eye open and grumbled, “Where’s my bedtime story?” Adrian scooped him up, kissed his sandy hair. “I’ll tell you one.” Zaya reached for me, sleepy and small and safe. I carried her inside, her head tucked under my chin — her soft breaths a promise that the future could be gentle, if we let it. We lay curled together in that tiny beachside cabana, the windows cracked open to let in the hush of the waves. Adrian’s voice drifted through the dark, telling the children about two wolves and two sisters and the lie that became a truth that saved them all.

“Would you tell me a story? My friend Dustin says his mom and dad tell him stories every night, but no one will tell me a story.” My heart melted hearing his request, and I smiled. “Of course, Liam. And you are in luck. I know so many stories.” I picked him up in my arms. “Really?” he said excitedly, burying his head in my neck, making me sigh in content. “Yay.” I tucked him into his bed. I began weaving a tale about a courageous knight who embarked on an epic adventure to save a kingdom from a fearsome dragon. Liam’s eyelids grew heavy as he listened to the tale, and soon he was fast asleep.

Processing-quiet. "Daddy?" Madison's voice is soft. Almost a whisper. "Can you tell us a story?" "A story?" "A bedtime story. Like... like the mamas in books do." "I'm not very good at stories," he admits. "That's okay. I don't mind if it's not good." "Yeah!" Alexander lifts his head. "Tell us one! With dragons! And knights! And—and—EXPLOSIONS!" "I don't think bedtime stories have explosions," I say.