Lizzie Grey の小説・ストーリー

Sometimes, I get caught up in the fact that she is my mistake that I forget how young and fragile she is, inside and out. “Camille, how did it go?” I asked with hands in my pocket. If am going to teach Occult with my mate here, then I need to make sure my secret remains a secret. “You are Damian so we’ve got your back” she replied with a smile. “I’m not one of you” I replied. Fixing my eyes on my mate. She was wearing a long sleeve black cropped top and a denimjeans. Her bright brown hair, running down her shoulders in beautiful wave curls. Her brown eyes shinned under the sun, a pure reflection of the light that’s emanating from her.

But before he could ask, she politely introduced herself. "I'm Liz Brown, by the way. We've never actually met, but I've heard a lot about you." Gage's confusion cleared, and he smiled, feeling a spark of attraction. "Nice to meet you, Liz, what you do by the way?" he said, taking her hand and helping her sit back down. “I’m a Ceramicist.” She replied. As they perused the menu and ordered their food, "Oh! That’s..That’s great,” Gage couldn't help but notice the book peeking out of Liz's purse. “Um..You're a reader, I see," he said, nodding towards the book.

Lucian reached and stroked my hair gently. "You scared us, darling," he said gently and kissed the top of my head. "I am sorry," I said, and he sighed. "What happened? Maxwell found you on the floor, bleeding through your nose and ears; now your eyes are green. Neon green, Scarlett. What is going on?" he asked, and I had noticed the eye colour change but chose to ignore it. I touched my cheekbone close to my eyes in shock, and Lucian reached out and gave me a small mirror to use. I gazed at my reflection and realised what he was telling me. My eyes were green, and they shined. The shine wasn't permanent. It was more like a flicker. I tried to calm down, and it stopped. With the shine off, it

After knocking, he entered. "Lily, do you have a photo of Abigail?" he asked. Lily got down from her bed and fetched her diary. Opening it she brought out a picture of the family on her birthday. "This is Abigail Shawn," She pointed at a young lady standing next to her father, with long wavy black hair. "She didn't like taking pictures. We forced her to take this picture," Lily revealed. Luis scanned and sent the image to his friend to search for details of her using the image.

I was confused, and somewhat scared. "You put your career at risk, Lyla." The female teacher in a burgundy dress clicked her tongue and came forward, stretching out her hand. "I'm Cecelia, by the way." "You guys are actually scaring me," I searched their face for something that could give away whatever they were thinking. "I have only taught one class since morning, and I don't think I've really done anything that would elicit this kind of look from you." "Haven't you noticed it already?" Cecelia asked while unwrapping a sweet and sticking it into her mouth. "The weird looks that students are giving you? Some are pitying you, and some—"

She has beautiful black skin, her lips are full and pretty and her braids are neatly done. I remember she loved to wear crop tops, pants, and sneakers. She's doing that right now. She's on a white tank top, blue skinny jeans, and black sneakers. She looks prettier than ever. I just wish the best for her. "Leslie Stone, they live around the woods." She says. I'm surprised that she manages to not make things look awkward, I'm doing a bad job right now. "Oh, you're friends with Blair Stone's older sister."

Thus she would attend the white party, then she would sleep with Don, and after she had given him the best sex experience, she would wave all sort of lies, such that Don would be furious, and he would hunt Alexis to death, thus Lucy dressing today was a dress to kill. Actually Lucy was a beautiful one, she was the type whom you can gave all your salary to just to have her for a night, Lucy had a black long hair, and her facial was a smooth one with no spot, her legs were long and white like a porcelain doll, in fact Lucy was a beauty without no doubt.

Meanwhile, at the lavish estate, Lizbeth's fury intensified with each unanswered call and flimsy excuse from her supposed friends. Her gilded prison felt smaller and smaller, the silence of the house amplifying the ringing in her ears from their rejections. When the maid returned, gingerly holding out a sleek, black burner phone, Lizbeth snatched it with an eagerness that bordered on desperation. She dismissed the maid with a wave of her hand, her mind already racing through the contacts saved on this device. This phone was her secret weapon, her direct line to the underbelly she sometimes exploited. She scrolled through the list, her eyes narrowing when she found the name she was looking fo

ES ~0~0~ In the wretched heat of a mid-December morning, Liziwe awoke, uneasy and unrested. Her back was humid with sweat, her hair plastered to her forehead in the sultry heaviness of the air, and the hem of her nightdress slid high against her thigh, the fabric mingling with the saline stickiness of her skin. Her eyes opened as slits, taking in the stillness of the room. Everything lay as it had the night before; each book indiscriminately cast across her desk just so, her apron thrown irritably over the creaking old chair. But despite it all, something was different. Something had been altered, perhaps in no visible fashion, but the very air had shifted; some scent lay wreathed in the sti

If Lizzy’s profuse bleeding originated from her right hand, it was likely an amputated finger. *** Ojuelegba, Lagos The rotten structure, sandwiched between matching derelict homes, looked like the gateway to hell. Endless seasons layered worn stone walls with gray grime. Hidden horrors called out from the fissured windowpanes, a slaughterhouse that marked the end of the journey for many captured souls. Breaking down doors and moving through the stagnant maze, Johnny prayed he’d find a loitering mercenary waving a weapon. Vengeance for the unsaved—and for Lizzy’s suffering—stirred up his bloodlust.