Lauren Faust Art Novels & Stories

-I BELONG TO YOU FOREVER - ENDLESSLY MINE - INFINITELY OURS -WHEN YOU LEAVE YOPUR HEART BEHIND .... so far there are still more to be uploaded. ***** POWER AND TEMPTATION MAFIA SERIES( romance/erotic/betrayal)************ - BOOK 1 ITALIAN MAFIA ************INDIVIDUAL STORIES************* - FEARLESS LUNA (WEREWOLF SEXY ROMANCE STORY) **** **** SPANISH VERSIONS AVAILABLE AT BUENOVELA****************** **SAGA DE HOMBRES LOBO ( 3 LIBROS DISPONIBLES Y COMPLETOS) EN BUENOVELA

Lauren screamed, pulling at the ribbons, her hips rose and trembled, her body vibrated from the inside out. Yusuf watched her with contained admiration, his eyes darkened with pleasure, but his breath still controlled. He released her from the ribbons with delicacy. His warm hands massaged her wrists and ankles to restore circulation. Then he laid her on her side and wrapped her in a light blanket, before approaching with the small pot of paint. "We are not finished yet." Lauren, with her eyes closed, simply smiled. An exhausted, surrendered, satisfied smile. He sat beside her and dipped the brush into the golden paint. Then, slowly traced the symbol of the encircled flame—the same as on the

It smelled like home, unburdened. Lila’s laughter was the soundtrack now. Not the hesitant giggles of before, but full-throated, uninhibited peals that echoed down the hall as she chased Atlas, our lumbering but endlessly patient Newfoundland, around the living room rug. Her art studio door stood perpetually open, no longer a place of hidden terrors but bursting with vibrant watercolors of fantastical creatures and sprawling landscapes. The charcoal monsters were gone, replaced by sun-drenched meadows and galaxies swirling with improbable colors.

I put my phone back on my desk and went to join the others in the art gallery. Leroy was busy talking with a bunch of men in business suits and Cassidy-Ann was discussing some of her paintings with potential clients. “Oh, Lila! There you are. This lovely woman wants to purchase ‘Whispers on a Beach,’” Cassidy-Ann said, gesturing for the woman to follow me. I grabbed Cassidy-Ann’s tablet and brought up her website and found her abstract painting of ‘Whispers on a Beach.’ It was honestly one of my favorite paintings too; I loved how she took something so simple and made it a whole story out of it with just one painting.

"And what's the name of your piece miss?" "Seasons, it was my final project at school and surprisingly it did really well," I said and they snapped their fingers. "But please, Laid Down and Bold Rest are extremely amazing, go check them out," I said and they left. "Professional artist? Featured here? You?" Michael asked and I cocked my head to the side. "Surprisingly I really thought you'd have tabs on me this entire time," I said crossing my arms over my chest. "Guess I was fooling myself."

“I’m here to help, and I’m happy to talk about whatever you think will do that. Do you have anything on your mind?” Memories surged forward, and the muffin turned to ash in my mouth. I looked away from Lauren, her soft smile, her kind blue eyes. On the wall behind her hung a painting of the sea. It had some of the same bright teals as the rest of the room but were toned down by the natural greens and whites of the water, with a stormy sky overhead. At the barest edge of the painting, there was a tiny break in the clouds, letting in shafts of light. More than anything else in the room, the painting felt like something someone had put thought into, had cared about. Dully, I wondered if it was

I was just getting ready to start taking some of the paintings down when someone called my name. I turned to see an extremely attractive blonde woman who looked to be in her late twenties standing there with a small notepad in her hands. She introduced herself as Laura Manning a reporter from Art scope a Chicago based online Magazine. I told her I had heard of it, and she asked me if I might have a couple of minutes to answer some questions for her. I'm not really one to talk much about my work, I like to think it should speak for itself, but was smart enough to realize that press was a good thing. I admit that the fact that Laura was absolutely beautiful added to the desire to spend some ti

A textile artist whose work had been plagiarized by a fast fashion brand. Watching them bloom was unlike anything I’d felt before. It was better than gallery openings. Better than winning. It was liberation. I still painted, of course. But now it came from somewhere softer. Afterlight finally came together the following fall. The centerpiece—the once-intimidating canvas—was no longer about Lucas or loss. It had transformed into something entirely different. A woman stands in silhouette, surrounded by brushstrokes of ash and flame, hands outstretched. Behind her, a sky of pale dawn blue. At her feet, roots tangle through rubble, blooming with wildflowers.

“Is that… a painting of Lauren riding a tiger?” Lauren grinned. “Commissioned it myself. It’s called Queen Shit. Got it done a few days back and thought i would mess with Axel and put it up.” Her eyes glared playfully. Mia giggled, curling into the oversized couch. She sank into the cushions as Daniel and Axel debated bedroom logistics, and Lauren danced around lighting incense for “positive horny energy.” By the time the pizza delivery arrived—again—they were all starving. This time, the box was guarded like gold.

And Lauren accepted it with a smile. "I am Lauren Sanchez. I came here to check the place and everything and especially to meet you personally." Lauren said, which made me slightly furrowed by what she said. Does it mean that she knows me? "A friend of mine told me about you. He said you will launch a new brilliant collection here in our place. He even mentioned your collections based on the pictures he sent me. I was truly amazed because your crafts are truly exceptional. But coming here personally, I loved your designs even more." Lauren said as she glanced around and then beamed at me.