Leonard Burns Novels & Stories

'He'll come back,' Gemma murmured. 'I know,' I whispered back, though I wasn't sure he would. 'He promised.' I sat up, running my hands over the blanket, feeling the silence press in around me. It was still too quiet for comfort. The faint sound of boots approached the door, and then a soft knock echoed through the bunker. "Luna?" It was Leroy's voice again, quieter this time, almost hesitant. I swung my legs off the bed, my heart skipping. "Leroy? What is it? Where's Tormund?"

Acct number: 8674057900 HNB Bank. "Hey, are you okay?" I hear Laury ask behind me. I turn around as I say, "Yeah. Very much unemployed now, though." "Oh, we all heard. And I saw John holding his pea-sized balls as he limped to his office." She chuckles. "Good for you. I wish I was in a position to do that." "I don't even know if I'm in a position to do it." At her furrowed brows, I continue," I texted him. I haven't gotten a response yet."

"Prof. Fisher, listen to Beau's recording and see what Elara has done to her son!" The other reporters who stood six feet away secretly admired the courage of the Platinum 818 journalist. The car door opened again, and the journalist's heart pounded with excitement. Elara was about to be thrown out! He signaled to the cameraman, reminding him not to miss this moment. As the door fully opened, the interior lights illuminated, casting a glow on Leonard's strikingly handsome face. The reporters instinctively held their breath. It really was Leonard! He was a heavyweight at Hawke University and a talented think tank who often traveled in and out of Southshore. He was extremely famous.

“If Lafleur suffers because of you, I’ll deal with it myself.” Leonard said nothing, walking out without acknowledgment. He was known for his independence, his lack of respect for authority, and his relentless pursuit of his own goals. Yet Gabriel tolerated him, knowing Leonard’s value. His intelligence and resourcefulness made him a formidable force, even if his actions often teetered on recklessness.

A couple of old businessmen, acquaintances of Leonard, approached, seeking the lady’s attention. “My dear, congratulations on that incredible presentation,” one of them said. “Thank you very much.” Reed knew them well—two repulsive men just like him—so he quickly stepped up beside her. “Indeed, Miss Burnhamm, a real delight!” the other man complimented. Deanna glanced at Leonard, who was sipping from his glass beside her. “Burnhamm Reed,” she corrected, and Leonard nearly choked on his champagne. “Excuse me?” “Burnhamm Reed is my last name, but you can call me Deanna.”

It'd taken her quite some time to find them. Leonard was a physics professor and once a prominent name in academia, loved by generations of students. He'd devoted his entire life to physics. If not for what happened back then, perhaps he would be mentioned in the same breath as Carlos by now. As for Jayson's gift, she picked out a luxury foundation pen, worth over ten thousand dollars. It was a practical gift for Leonard and fitting for Jayson's style. "Mr. Larkin's busy?" Leonard casually asked as he accepted the gifts with a smile.

"Out with it, Jeff. What's the deal with you and Winter?" He did not bother stepping inside. Instead, he chucked what was in his hand at me: a phone, its screen glowing with a video from the concert. There it was, playing for all to see: the big-screen evidence of me and Winter's secret. My mind went blank, my heart thumping in my ears. I almost dropped the phone. "Leon, you've got it all wrong, let me explain–" "All wrong?" Leon's voice cracked like thunder, "Then set me straight! I thought you were my friend, but you? You hooked up with my sister-in-law! How could you do that to me? To Juliet?"

A trail of bodies and pools of blood remain everywhere this man is spotted. No one goes to Mr Sydney’s side even when he falls on the floor and pales out. He is a cruel bigot, but what a way to die. “Sir Leonard.” Brad mumbles with a shaky voice when he reaches us. Six-five feet tall, I am five-four but I feel like an ant compared to him. Just looking at him is straining my neck. He ignores Brad and hoovers above me. “Lady Maloy.” I look up at the mysterious dark piercing eyes and frown. Shit! That may just get me killed. Lady? I have no title as far as I know.

Selene read it three times, but each time she understood it less rather than more, just as Moira's answers always did, like a box that opened only to reveal another box, smaller and more tightly shut than the one before. That night she burned the letter in the fireplace, watching the paper curl and turn black before finally crumbling into ash, and realized, with a bitterness that surprised her because it was so profound, that she had in effect exchanged one fire for a life which had been made up almost entirely of things which she had never really been allowed to understand fully, and that Moira, no matter what else she might have been, had never at any time intended that situation to be alt

"The factory is in flames as we speak." "What!" Marvin's eyes widened. "How..." Leonard's words halted, and his hand reached for his chest. "Master!" Both men rushed forward, their hands quickly reaching for him, but Leonard raised a hand, stopping them halfway. "This can't be happening," he murmured, more to himself than to those before him. Thirty years of planning, testing, and executing one project after another. It was a life's project, everything he had built, his legacy, and the second largest was now in flames.