Little Stranger Book Audiobook Novels & Stories

The stranger shortly pulled away, poured some liquor on her left boob, and put the glass shot on the table, after which he turned his attention to her nipple, giving it the same attention as the earlier one. Melissa’s chest started beating very fast again when She felt the mysterious man place a hand on her belly which he eventually caressed down to her lap. He continued sucking her boobs as he slightly parted her legs. The stranger snuck his hand under her mini skirt and what he felt made him withdraw his mouth from her boobs, looking directly into her eyes. “How more naughty can you be?” Melissa swallowed painfully as she felt his fingers crawling into her pussy. “W....what do you mean?”

He listened more than he spoke, but when he did speak, people leaned in. Crystal noticed how often his eyes drifted toward her. Not in a scary way. In a careful way. She licked sugar from her fingers and tilted her head. Why does he look like he’s afraid I’ll disappear? “Crystal!” She turned at the sound of her name and saw Auntie Ruth waving her over. Ruth was arranging baskets of produce, her face tight with concentration. Crystal hopped down and ran to her. “Auntie Ruth,” she said brightly, “do you know the daddy stranger?”

“I’m someone who doesn’t like losing people in the middle of nowhere.” Isabella gave a short, mirthless laugh. “Since when do you care who lives or dies?” “Since the thing out there started counting heads,” he snapped. That shut her up. --- The stranger’s words The kid coughed, throat scraping raw. Then their voice came again, broken at the edges: “They’re… already close.” I leaned down. “Who?” Their eyes rolled, pupils unfocused. “The ones it made.” My stomach twisted cold. I wanted to ask what that meant, but the words stuck somewhere behind my teeth.

It was a far cry from the life she had once imagined having. She was in a soup kitchen, eating with Emily when a strange woman approached her. She had long, black hair and green eyes. She smiled at Camille with her daughter. “How old is she?” Camille looked up, in surprise. “Just over two.” She kept her foot on her duffle bag, making sure nobody touched it. “She’s adorable,” the woman said. “What’s her name?” “Emily.” Camille watched her, warily. “And I’m Camille.”

It was almost as if someone had tuned up the volume in my ears. As I listened attentively, I heard a fourth unfamiliar voice aside from my parents and Nathan. I frowned at the voice. There was something strange about it, or perhaps I had just imagined it— I could not really say. "Why was she acting cold and strange?" I heard Father ask. "It's only normal for her. I admire her though. She's a strong woman," The stranger said. It was a woman. "But it can get worse than this. This is just one of the side effects," she revealed.

The books once again cradled in her arms, her purse still snug over her shoulder, head down, her free hand wiping the wet from her knees, she struggled to her feet. “Don’t find your book,” the voice said from above. Female. The words as quiet as breath. Raindrops pelted her, the cold of coming night arriving on a bracing gust of wind. She glanced around, checking behind her, assuring herself that the stack she clutched to her chest was complete with no orphans accidently left behind. “No, no, I have them all, thank you,” she said to the stranger. “In you—” the woman was saying, her words, already as tenuous as spun glass, lost to the wind, the final “No” the only other word able to escape th

Like all the problems including her problems were on his shoulder? "Who are you? What do you want from me?" Terah asked. A laugh escaped from his lips. "So many questions, Terah. I am afraid I can't answer that. For now." That man! He had the audacity to laugh? He was the only one who liked the situation. Not her! "Who do you think you are? Don't ever call me again or whatever you are doing to me. You are nothing but a stranger. Remember that," she hissed. “FYI. What you are doing is a clear violation of my rights. You give me no choice but to be in this place.”

He placed the bag of pastries Roberto brought from his visit home as a gift to her by the side of the couch, hearing her grunts of annoyance inside her room and wondered what was going on. He closed the door as he didn't trust the security of the building, still sneezing and finally being aware of his surroundings to find a little girl seated on the ground near the bookshelf, she looked familiar as she was going through some vintage cassette tapes in a cardboard box. ‘Hello there'. He waved and she lifted her head up. ‘My Nana doesn't want me talking to strangers'. she responded. Cheeky, he thought, ‘Your Nana's a smart woman'.

I barely registered the words, my ears roaring too loud to process anything except the sight of her small face crying into a camera some stranger had pointed at her. My hands were already dialing before my brain caught up. She's a four-year-old girl who likes dragon voices and stuffed wolves. She didn't deserve that. The thought hit me sideways, useless and unstoppable, exactly the kind of thing I didn't have room for right now. It didn't matter whose blood ran through her. What mattered was that some bullshit stranger had put his hands on her. Axel picked up on the second ring. "You saw it." No greeting. No trace of the anger from two nights ago.

Beside me, I saw the corner of Cassius’s mouth twitch as he fought, and failed, to suppress a grin. “I dream of it, sometimes,” the vendor sighed, clasping her hands to her chest and gazing at some unseen horizon. “A dashing stranger sweeping me away from Glens Crossing for a life of adventure.” Her focus snapped back to us. “This is the newest in the series. Simply divine.” I rested a hand on the book, a convenient prop. “Speaking of strangers,” I began, flipping a page, “have you noticed any… unusual travelers? Perhaps someone who seemed a bit out of place?”