Kaitlin Olson Novels & Stories

Right now, she needed to focus on her and Ray. She wanted to look nice for Ray, so she went into her closet and picked out one of her favorite dresses. It was a backless halter dress in the color emerald green that came to just below her knees. She picked out a pair of black strapless sandals. She didn’t need any fancy footwear. The ceremony would be held at the pack field and she wouldn’t actually need shoes. She wouldn’t need clothes either, but she had no intention of showing up in front of Ray’s pack naked. She’d keep her clothes on in public until absolutely necessary, thank you very much.

Rachel Droplets of tears streamed down from my eyes, sliding down my cheeks, with my eyes burning. If anything I hate in this life and my work, it is these onions. This one thing makes everything I love about cooking hate. But my relationship with onions is something very complicated, I hate and love them, Love eating and adding them, to the food I make but I hate cutting, copping them

"Scarlett." ******

I just searched frozen. She stopped by the dresser and ran her fingers along its edge. “You’re actually beautiful. That’s going to piss off more people than you think. Trust me, there were many bidding on you looking ugly. Some even said that you look like a troll.” I finally found my voice. “And you are…? I'm sorry, but I didn't expect you to come inside my room to just tell me that I looked. Well…” “Madeline,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Second daughter of Beta Reinhart. Technically ranked, practically ignored. I'm more of a subtle kind of woman. I choose to at least lighten the mood. I know that you might be having a hard time.”

I said, reaching for my phone. “What are you saying?” Allen snapped. “This isn't Joan…why would I be sleeping with your wife?” “Then ask her to take off her mask,” I shouted. “She can have the voice but not the face.” Allen turned to the lady. “I am sorry but she can't, this isn't Joan and that is what matters…what are you doing?” I moved closer to the girl but Allen stepped in the way. “She is my mistress…nothing more.” “I can't believe you actually have a mistress…I am putting an end to this charade…I am calling that Old man to explain that his granddaughter didn't do anything.”

Mona Fields stood beside the woman explaining the ticket process, nodding attentively as she tried to keep up. Today was her first day working at the underground boxing venue, and she had been assigned the role of ticket reviewer. Even saying it out loud sounded ridiculous. A ticket reviewer? It wasn't exactly the job of her dreams, but she needed the extra cash. Her roommate, Flora, had pulled some strings with the manager—her boyfriend—and convinced him to hire Mona. Flora worked here as a sign holder, parading around the ring between rounds in barely-there outfits, flashing a bright smile to the roaring crowd.