Her Gifted Hands Novels & Stories

"You, uh, need this?" He's given me another handkerchief, this one way more personalized than the first. For one it had little pastel cats on it. It looked like something Noelle would have had. "It's a gift from my godfather, Lord Ingálvur. Sidhe Lord. Dread Lord. I think you'd like him."

His gaze felt like an X‑ray, as if he wanted to look straight through me. I did not look away. I met his gaze with a numb calm. After a long silence, he smiled and pulled his hand back. He tossed the burn ointment onto the nightstand. “Fine. Go. But you must return on February sixteenth. It is my birthday. I want you to give yourself to me as a gift.” He leaned close to my ear, and his teeth brushed my earlobe. “You need to be clean and fresh.” I pushed down the nausea in my stomach and nodded. “Okay.”

"Ashton, the hospital owes you an apology. Don't worry. I'll spend every penny to bring in the best specialists from around the world to fix your hand." I shook my head. As I glanced at my mangled right hand, I felt nothing but a cold, hollow numbness. Caleb walked over as well. He gave me a long look, then bowed to me with deep solemnity. "Dr. Howard, I don't know how to thank you. From today on, I'll treat you like my own brother. Your matters are my family's matters." It was a heavy promise. A few days later, the public trial took place.

Colene shot Gabriella a teasing look and said, "Maybe there's a delay. Let's wait a bit longer." "Yeah, let's just wait," Gabriella replied. Suddenly, everything went dark for Gabriella as a pair of hands covered her eyes. Reacting on instinct, Gabriella grabbed the hands in front of her. The owner of the hands playfully lowered their voice, saying, "Guess who? Get it right, and there's a gift waiting for you." Recognizing the voice, Gabriella chuckled, "Hugo, seriously? How old are you?" Hugo released Gabriella with a hint of disappointment. "Was it that obvious?"

“I want to add you to the mind link.” At his clarification, I let out a sigh of relief and let him take my hand once more. Back at the school, I didn’t have the chance to really admire how long and thick his fingers were. He had some scars on them as if he had broken them before and I couldn’t help but marvel with wide eyes. His hands looked like the hands of someone who had spent their entire life working and something about them looked beautiful.

Ellaya replied respectfully, not wanting to offend her elder. In a gesture of generosity, she shared her handcrafted perfumes with those around her, spreading not just a beautiful fragrance but also a sense of community and harmony. Gazing out at her garden, blooming with life and possibilities, she knew she had found a new source of joy and fulfillment in her empowered existence. Her small house now smelled of roses and jasmine, a testament to her creativity and resilience. She was delighted by the compliments from her neighbors, who marveled at her creation. In a gesture of generosity, she gifted bottles to her sweet neighbors without charging any money.

My father would pick me up, his strong hands steady as he hoisted me high above his head. "Higher, Dad!" I used to giggle. "You’re already at the top, sweetheart. Go on, place the star." It had been years since then, and though I no longer needed anyone to lift me, there was something oddly comforting about reaching for something just out of grasp. I tried again, stretching just a little more. Suddenly, fingers brushed past mine. The gift was plucked from the pile effortlessly, and before I could react, it was being handed to me.

She glanced at the hand, nearly the size of Sunshine's, and tears welled up. In shock, she finally found her voice, her lips quivering. "Whose hand is this?" Bradley didn't answer her question but instead asked with a faint smile, "Esther, do you like this gift?" Esther briefly glanced at the severed hand, which made her heart race. "Bradley! Are you even human? How could you... How could you?" Esther felt drained of all her strength. The idea that Bradley had brought her a severed hand as a gift was unfathomable.

"You're pretty good at this game." She took it as a yes. "Is it something that you'd find in a chest of sex toys?" "Yes." She couldn't see his face, but his hands were olive-colored. She guessed he might have been Persian. She tried to pretend like it didn't bother her when the hands went down to her thighs and grabbed the sides of her ass. "Is it something that you would use to stimulate a male?" The hands stopped moving. They came off of her. Thank God.

Grace looked down at the healed wound on her left arm, then over at Tara, whose gifted hands had erased all traces of the bleeding cut and mended the torn flesh with just a touch. "This is incredible. How long have you had this talent?" "Pretty much all my life, I suppose." Tara pushed a curling lock of honey-blond hair behind her ear and gave a small shrug. "For a long time, I didn’t use it. I just wished it would go away, you know? So I could be... normal."