Ldshadowlady Lizzie Novels & Stories

The zombies blocking the entrance had finally broken through the doors and came flooding toward them like a tidal wave. "Raarh!" The closest zombie snarled. Lizzie shot forward like a dark shadow, lunging straight at Bradley and Lindsay, who were closest to her. Her entire face was deathly pale. Beneath her darkened eye sockets were gray, cloudy zombie eyes. Bradley and Lindsay were horrified when they saw her. But at least this time, none of them screamed. In that split second of danger, Bradley shoved Lindsay aside and faced zombie Lizzie head-on. Clang!

"Oh, come on, Mia, that shade is perfect for you," Lizzie said as I walked out of the dressing room in a sexy blue halter top and mini skirt combo that she insisted made my skin glow. "I'm not sure that this is exactly what they mean by work clothes," I said walking over to the mirror. It did look amazing on me and with my red hair, the blue complimenting it so well that it seemed to glow like a fire. "Who cares? This is exactly what you need to remind Reed what he's missing out on when he runs home to Madam Witch," Lizzie said, the disgust in her voice evident.

Lizzie propped herself up on the floor, got up, and closed the bathroom door again. She slipped off her dress and walked barefoot into the glass shower room next to it. She turned on the warm water and let it wash over her delicate skin, washing away his scent, the scent that lingered in her heart.

I turn and look for help, only to see Holden and Lizzie both fixing Shania with a dirty look as they storm over. Lizzie positions herself between Shania and I possessively and growls lowly. "If. I. Were. You. I'd. Get. Your. Dirty. Little. Hands. Off. My. Husband." Lizzie growls slowly; her eyes pitch black with anger and the presence of her wolf. Shania, for some reason isn't phased at all, "you aren't with both of em love. Stick to Holden. You so aren't good enough for the likes of Dean." She pops out a hip, and sticks her hand on it defiantly.

I turn and look for help, only to see Holden and Lizzie both fixing Shania with a dirty look as they storm over. Lizzie positions herself between Shania and I possessively and growls lowly. "If. I. Were. You. I'd. Get. Your. Dirty. Little. Hands. Off. My. Husband." Lizzie growls slowly; her eyes pitch black with anger and the presence of her wolf. Shania, for some reason isn't phased at all, "you aren't with both of em love. Stick to Holden. You so aren't good enough for the likes of Dean." She pops out a hip, and sticks her hand on it defiantly.

One of the girls giggles before the others follow along. “Well, let’s go!” Lizzie, the one with blonde hair, exclaims. Her exposed tan skin glows amid the hot summer evening. With a pair of cat-like eyes and dewy complexion, her goddess appearance often leaves the boys enthralled. She has a reputation from being a babe, the center of admiration for the guys in town.

PARADISE Lizzie is imprisoned on the bed in the dark cellar as a dazzling light bulb flashes directly into her eyes. Even though she tries her hardest to move her eyes, about to become more familiar with her surroundings, she eventually closes her eyes, since the light is too strong and harsh for her to take in. Her hands and feet are tied together as well.

Gelly's assistant stood in front of Gelly while facing Lizzy who also stood in front of Isabella. "Ha!" Lizzy scoffed, "A whore?! Are you talking about your actor. Instead of her to go and harness her acting skills, she is looking for who will get into her trap and be her steps to success!" She fired back without mincing words at all. "Lizzy, Take it easy on her" Isabella reminded her but didn't plan on stopping her. "How dare you?!" Sharon, Gelly's assistant pointed at her with trembling fingers. "What can't I dare? Or is what I said not true?"

She looks at me solemnly, not at all surprised by my question. "Please, I need to know. I need to try to at least keep myself safe," I tell her. "Don't you think it would be nice to get out of this mess?" I ask her. She seems to think about it for a moment before she replies. "It's called the Shadow Farm," she tells me. "The organization I work for. I don't know why, but they're after your life. And there's no saying who they'll send next if I don't do it myself."

The air turned cold, and the sound of battle warped into something distant and hollow. The first assassins vanished into the darkness without a sound. The second wave tried to turn, but the shadow coiled around them, dragging them down, tearing steel from their hands before the unseen claws found flesh. Some defenders screamed—whether from fear or pain, Eolan couldn’t tell. The heir shouted something, but her voice was drowned in the maelstrom of darkness. The Creed leader fought through the tide, his blade cutting deep into the shadow. Pain ripped through Eolan, but the shadow didn’t retreat—it slammed into the man like a living wall, sending him sprawling against a pillar.