Gracie Faris Novels & Stories

Forbidden. “Fuck…” Johnny breathed, looking down at her. “Look at you. My stepmom on her knees for me.” He grabbed his phone from his pocket and started recording, the red light blinking like a warning. “Say it for the camera. Tell them who you are tonight.” Grace’s lips trembled. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m… I’m ASlimySlut. But tonight… I’m Grace. Johnny’s stepmom.” “Good girl,” he groaned. “Now open that pretty mouth.”

Vic and I respond at the same time. “Who is she?” She presses her lips together, amused. “Well I wasn’t planning on doing any name dropping. I really want this to succeed though and if Grace didn’t have contacts I wouldn’t have gotten it this far. Grace Astor,” she says, sitting back in her chair. “No shit,” Vic says, stunned.

I had gifted her one of the newest collections of Alysia fashion brand. She was so excited, gushing over how she had never thought she would ever be able to touch a piece of the designs, how much more own one. Her smile is still one distinct thing about her face that could make your day light up. I have caught her chatting and smiling with her maid on several occasions, and they always manage to evoke a chuckle or smile from me. Only Alysia has had that effect on me, and I do not want her to replace Alysia, so as much as possible, I have been doing my best to avoid her.

“Hey! I don’t need people to babysit m- also it’s important to figure out which screams suits me. Now when we have time, we’ll do the laugh. I feel like a big ‘hahaha’ suits me more than a giggle and-” “Jake is an expert in this, you know. You should ask him to sit with you.” I say and Jake widens his eyes at me before giving me an angry look. “Jake! Is that you?” I hear a sweet voice making me whip my head around in the direction of the woman who broke up with Jake a month before their wedding, I finally got a good look at her. The last time I had just seen her from a distance but now here she was standing in front of me looking so simple and beautiful. She was short with dark brown hair an

Probably some guy gave her a fake number in the bar. "I know what it is. But who are you?" She again asks me anxiously. "I am secretary of the President of the Damison Group. My name is Ethan Stone." I reply to her irritatingly, as she is wasting my time. I need to go home and take a lavender bath with my rubber ducks.

It was good because no one would find out who she was soon. Grace worked so hard all her life as an editor, crawling all the way to the top as the chief editor of a glossy magazine firm. She had appeared in the magazine herself a lot of times, but she doubted anyone here w would engross their time in reading magazines like that. Even if a few of them did, they wouldn't recognize her with her hair dyed jet back from the natural blonde color she had, and from wavy to straight.

"Good night." @TarynGrace

Liam was strumming a guitar, playing something quiet and folk-like. And Grace. Grace was nineteen. She was the youngest, the surprise, the miracle born after the war was supposedly over. She stood up. She was wearing a simple white dress, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. She held a glass of sparkling water. "One more toast," Grace said. Her voice was soft, but it carried the same quiet authority that Aria had developed over decades. "We're out of cider," Theo noted sleepily from his chair. "I don't need cider," Grace said. "I just need you to listen."

mother rolled her and sighed. The door creaked open and a wheel chair carrying GrandPa Musa rolled in with Faryah helping him. " I'll leave you all to it" mother said as she smiled assuring me that everything was okay. " Thank you Zainab" Faryahs' grand father said as she walked out smiling at them. " Faryah let go, go seat down" she was quite tall, skinny. She was wearing dark purple baggy pants with her cute socks and a baggy black shirt over her pants. She was wearing a purple Hijab. Her makeup was gone, she looked really beautiful, more beautiful, at least I wasn't stuck with a mute ugly bitch.

She was smart, I figured it was 2-to-1 odds that I would release her. Plus I looked for the Mustang to show up again on the files. The driver was well trained, he did not show. The first thing Gracie had to do was clean herself up. She hesitated to remove the bag, but she realized it was required, and after she found the scissors she figured out I had arranged things so she could remove it. While she was in the bathroom - it took awhile, starting with a enema - I put the (too) hot food and a clean bag on the table. When she came out she noticed, said a meek "Thank you" to the camera, but she wisely left them until the space was cleaned up. Cleaning up was sweaty work so she showered herself