Julie Clark Books Novels & Stories

'It's the right address,' Julia claimed, double-checking her cell phone, which had done the bulk of the navigation during the hour-long journey. I remember Lacey muttered something then, something about living organisms not existing in states of reality and staying sane. 'What?' Kelly demanded, arching her eyebrow. 'It's from a book,' Lacey added, 'By Shirley Jackson.' 'Isn't she the one who did that story about the people throwing rocks at one of their own now and then?' Julia inquired, arching her eyebrows.

Claire said as she made her way to the torture chamber she had known as the bathroom. “Where are you going?” Julie asked Blake when Claire left. “We’re going shopping. She didn’t specify what for.” “Oh, well, then count me in. I’m not letting you out of my sight. How do I know she doesn’t become your plaything as soon as you leave?” Julie said, pushing Blake aside and entering her room to get ready.

"You're building quite a collection of legal weapons against this family. The divorce, the countersuit against Brenda, and now a restraining order against Chloe. What's next?" Clara smiled coldly. "Next, I destroy them completely." She stood and walked to the window, looking out at the city below. The morning sun was rising, casting long shadows across the streets. In eighty days, those streets would be buried under black ice. But for now, the world was still warm. "There's something else I need to tell you," Clara said quietly. "Chloe isn't just Julian's cousin. She's his mistress. They've been having an affair for over a year."

That it was more of a memory and less of a dream? P. S. This author also wants to tell you that if you'd like to read about Clarabelle's troublesome star writer "Julie St. Matthews" you could read her book "Mr. Fiction". It is available on GoodNovel, it only has 17 chapters, and it is already completed. Thank you and stay safe!

At the top, she slid a slim, leather-bound journal from the highest shelf—a place Amara had noticed but never dared touch. "Julian gave this to me," Clarisse said, descending slowly. She didn’t hand it over. Just held it out, open to a page filled with elegant, looping script. "The pain of never being wanted," she read aloud, her voice steady as a heartbeat. "He wrote that the night we married." She snapped the journal shut. "Before he became... what he is." Amara stared. Julian? The man who smirked about "conception efforts" at dinner?

BDSM: Slave 24/7 Plus more bonus chapters of all the characters you've come to love. Brody and Kylie's Story is Book 3 right after Daniel and Natalia.

"It's better than being locked in the dark with you." Julian paused. For a fraction of a second, a strange, dark amusement flickered across his sharp features. The corners of his mouth twitched into a ghostly, humorless smile. "A fascinating hypothesis," he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips before rising back to meet her defiant stare. "But structurally unsound. You see, Clara, you are a chaotic variable. And I do not tolerate chaos in my designs." He released her arm so abruptly she stumbled back against the door. Julian stepped down the stairs, retrieving her satchel from the floor. He opened it, pulled out the leather ledger and the flash drive, and tossed the bag back up to her fee

The study was a sanctuary of flickering orange light and deep, velvety shadows. The fire in the hearth had burned down to a pile of glowing embers, casting a warm, amber glow across the rows of leather-bound books and the heavy mahogany desk that now served as Clara's altar. Julian had swept the papers and inkwells to the floor with a single, violent motion of his arm, the crash of crystal and parchment long forgotten.

Heaving a long and drawn-out sigh, Julie lifted her face and her eyes swept through the large library. The five books she had chosen were unexpectedly all about the Aliens' empire's history. She would love to delve more into their history as she was curious to know, but at that moment, her curiosity about her husband's past was way stronger that she had actually wished she could just find a book personally dedicated just about him. Julie thought that if there ever was a book that contained the details of Alex's secrets and of his past, the book should be looking like… her eyes just wandered around for minutes as if she were looking for something.

THIRD PERSON’S POV Ice clinked softly against expensive crystal glass. Sitting in a leather armchair, Clara stared blankly at the roaring fire in the estate library. Her black mourning dress felt suffocatingly tight around her ribs. Holding a glass of amber whiskey, she hadn't taken a single sip. "Do you remember when he bought us those dirt bikes?" Julian asked quietly from the opposite couch. He was staring down at his own drink, his eyes still bloodshot from crying at the cemetery.