Karen White Books Novels & Stories

‘Nope’ I yelled back, my eyes not leaving the sight of books, I walked past but then stopped, something grazed from my fingers, I stepped back and tried to find what it was, it felt like something pricked on my finger. ‘I felt too, something very strong touched me’ Irene mumbled, my eyes anxiously looking for it again when they locked at one book. ‘Legacy of White Wolf’ I quietly murmured those words and water gathered in my eyes as if something stung into it. The emotions right now were foreign, I was unable to understand them, but they were overwhelming. My hand was tracing the title.

I rejoined him in the main room, and we left. We walked down the halls towards their smaller apartments hand in hand talking about what I had read in the book. “There were several royal women who were named Elizabeth and Anne, Conor. Some had been rulers in their own right or consorts to the kings of Mazifik. There was another woman towards the middle of the long Lucevkin dynasty named Karen too!” I explained happily. “According to the book, Karen means water lily or water flower. And this Queen Karen had been a consort to King Andrew IV. They even had a picture of her in the book! It was interesting because she had violet hair like me and pretty blue eyes like Lizette. She died when she was

It’s taken a couple of generations to get in this mess and you can’t expect to put it right in five minutes. Karen climbed down carefully, a pile of books in her arms. Placing them on the only available corner of the table, she brushed the back of her hand over her sticky forehead. Her spine and calf muscles ached. She had hardly stopped since the day after she arrived, driven by a force far stronger than interest or ambition. Pride was the spur — the desire to show the high-handed individual who paid her wages that she was a competent, hard-headed historian, not one of his mistress’s play-fellows who would fall over herself to provide him with an additional lay.

When she asked who her family was so she could return her, Karen had screamed, "I have no family! I'd rather die than go back! I'd rather die away from them!" Later, they found out that the Whitley family had abandoned Karen because they thought she was impure and wanted her to poison herself. Hence, they thought Karen was angry at her family. But Karen had always wanted to die, so wouldn't taking poison give her exactly what she wanted? Why did she listen to her mom and run away? "Maybe we should ask her mom when we get the chance," Carissa said, looking up. "Her mom clearly wanted her to live. Maybe she knows more."

Sucking his teeth, he got up wrapping himself properly with the blanket to shield away from the cold, and stepped outside. “How are you such a snitch?” Karen queried. Kate shrugged nonchalantly. “I warned you not to push me. Go sort it yourself. I have got files to look through.” She huffed, heading to her room. Karen stomped her feet a few times promising to pay Kate back in her own coin. She had stumbled upon Bianca when she went to shop for clothing materials for her assignment. They got talking and she realized that Bianca needed to speak with Lois to clear the misunderstanding. Without thinking she assured Bianca she could come over to see Lois. It was when her wolf mentioned it did she

It seemed like the room vanished into thin air. Warren shook his head. He already saw too much for the day. There was nothing that could surprise him anymore. Then Warren arrived in the basement of the White family again. He looked around and saw the books from earlier which he couldn't understand. The name of the first book, immediately grabbed his attention. The book was named 'The Legendary King Cole!'

"Everyone knows the Rivera girl is a rare white wolf. Her pups will be top-tier Alphas, every single one. Whoever mates her becomes the future Alpha King." "And look at her—the Moon Goddess must've carved her by hand." "A wolf like that, blood like that, Is Damian insane?" "Poor Rivera girl. Her own mate doesn't even want her." The whispers circled. Everyone was certain I'd name Damian—they'd all seen how badly I'd fallen for him. In my last life, I worshiped Damian as my savior. White wolves are rare, which means my life was never peaceful. I got snatched by rogues once.

“They don’t like it when I say I’ve already been there.” “Hard to go somewhere you don’t believe in.” He mused. “True statement.” She agreed. “I pulled a few books for you. Don’t feel like you have to all of them. Or even any of them.” “I appreciate this. I’m not sure what to think about all of this.” “The woman? The feelings you have? Or the gifts she has?” Giving her a wry smile, he asked, “Do I have to pick just one?” “Absolutely not.” Ciara shuffled the books and pulled one out, handing it over. “This one is about ghosts. I also pulled a few about white covens.”

Tim met us at a small cabin deep in the woods and led us inside without ceremony. The cabin was a single room. A fireplace. A few pieces of worn furniture. And in a chair beside the fire, a small, white-haired woman who watched us enter with the precise, measuring attention of someone who had survived two decades by trusting nothing carelessly. Her name was Karen. When her eyes found mine, she went very still. Then tears came, slow and quiet, and she said I had my mother's eyes. I didn't have words for that. I just sat down.