Heather Lang Novels & Stories

he asks. “Oh, I’m sorry. I'm just passing through. I'm a photographer, and I saw this old barn and decided to stop and snap a few pictures.” I explain. “Well, ain’t that something. Jeff, she is a photographer, she just saw this old barn and decided to stop and snap some pictures.” He says licking his chops at me like I am a t-bone steak. “Ugh, gross. Hannah, that guy is creepy.” I hear Lily chime in. “Yep” I respond as I continue to snap pictures. Jeff comes through the door and it's his turn to devour me with his creepy eyes.

“And although I don’t really care if you want to be an annoyance to the people around you just because you think they owe you the world, I think you need to wake up from dreaming honey this world owes you shit just because you knew how to look cute when you’re a child.” Heather looked like a second away from punching me, “Who do you think you are?” “Me? I’m Elena, I would say nice to meet you,” I started with a neutral voice, “But seeing you’re an A-class bitch I would rather not associate with you.” Despite the confidence of my words, in reality, I was trembling inside, Heather was a very intimidating figure in the past, I tried not to get in her way as much as I could and with my position

My German Shepard, Dandelion, got off my bed to follow me and check out the chirping birds. I pulled the curtains and the windows open, letting fresh air in. I loved few things more than early fall at dawn. I smelled damp leaves that had fallen from the rows of trees outside. When I leaned out my window, I could see the whole west side of the estate. That included the tennis courts, one of the pools, and the apple grove that my great, great grandmother had started from one single tree.

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.

I say shaking my head. “Anything you want to talk about?” Heather asks watching me closely. Heather is about three years younger than me and already mated. She moved here when she was fourteen to live with her human Grandmother who lives in a small cottage on our territory. Her life has been affected by this curse just as much if not more than any of us. She takes my hand and leads me over to the couch pulling me down to sit beside her. “Are you having problems with Quinn?” I shake my head staring at her mate mark. It is a very unusual one and so are the matching ones of her mates. We think it is because of Heather’s witch bloodline from her Mom’s side. When she notices me staring at her mar

“You guys have been through the mating heat. That should be the moment you’re both so happy and planning the wedding, finishing each other’s sentences and all of that. My sister is on her bed, crying. You’re out here, talking to yourself, staring at nothing for answers. Believe me when I say this, you both need my help, like sooner rather than later.” If he just ignored her, she would eventually go away. “You can stare up at the sky all you want and pretend not to hear me. I get it. What can I know? I’m just Heather’s sister. Probably the last person you want to see, but she’s been different lately. You don’t know it, but I do. She has always been a good sister. The one who followed the pack

Rowena “Well, well. Looks like your fifteen minutes of fame is finally coming to an end.” Heather’s shrill voice sounded even more grating on my ears than normal. I turned, still holding the cool metal of the water bottle to my neck, to see her standing behind me. She was dressed in her cheerleading uniform as usual, her blonde hair pulled up into a high ponytail. From where she stood over me, she looked almost giant. “What do you want, Heather?” I asked, not caring to hide the disdain in my voice for once. “If you’re here for another confrontation, I’m not interested. I just want to be left alone.”

Her skin color is white and maybe her age is between 30-40. “Are you Ms. Montreal and Ms. Santos?” She asked us, a smile is plastered on her face. Her voice is so soft and gentle. “We are.” We said in unison. Her smile widened. “Oh, good morning to the both of you. I’m Anthea Madrigal, the principal of Heather Academy. Welcome. She introduced herself. "Please follow me to my office. So I could give you your things.” She added. She turned around and started to walk. Cassie and I just looked at each other before nodding at the same time.

Familiar in a way that made Riley's stomach clench. The woman climbed the hill without hesitation, her expensive boots sinking into the mud, her expression never wavering. By the time she reached the community center, a small crowd had gathered—villagers curious about the stranger, children peeking from behind their mothers' skirts. "Riley Guzmán?" the woman asked, her accent faintly British, her voice cool and measured. "Yes. Who are you?" The woman smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "My name is Vivian Kael. I'm Kael Vance's sister."

" I shot Mia a look of contempt. She had the nerve to claim she understood the Duke's life? She had no idea that this housekeeper, Margaret Hale, was the person the Duke respected most while he was alive. She had been the first in line to inherit according to his will, but out of gratitude for how well the Duke had treated her, and feeling she was getting on in years, she had turned down the entire inheritance and left it for those who needed it more. Now Mia dared to humiliate her in public? Once Margaret left, Mia saw that no one else would get in her way. She waved Robert and Paige aside. Then she dropped to her knees with a thud, threw her arms around the Duke's coffin, and wailed as if