London Calling Novel Novels & Stories

"I love you." Cole squeezed back. "I know." The hotel in London was small and old. Cracked walls. Creaky floors. A window that looked out onto a narrow street. Jay stood by the window and watched the rain fall. The sky was gray. The buildings were wet. The city was quiet. Cole came up behind him. He put his arms around Jay's waist. "What are you thinking?" "That I'm here. London. The first stop. It's real." "It's real."

Kendrick and Noelle were probably mid-transit or just touching down. I found Kendrick Beckham’s name in my contacts. My thumb hovered over the call button for a heartbeat. Don’t be too late. Please, don't tell me they gave that London desk to some Ivy League shark already. I pressed dial. Ring... Ring... I paced the length of my living room, the floor-to-ceiling windows reflecting a man who looked half-crazed and entirely determined. My palms were damp. My chest felt tight, like a spring wound too far. Click.

It would only keep me close to a life that had already ended. London was gray and wet when I landed. The first evening, I sat on the edge of the bed with my coat still on, listening to rain tap against the window. For a moment, I missed home so badly I almost couldn't breathe. Then my phone lit up with an email from Caroline West. Welcome to London, Nora. Get some sleep. We start Monday. Caroline ran the London office of a crisis communications firm. Two years earlier, after we worked together on a difficult corporate case, she had offered me a position.

I heard his hard voice but I wasn't able to control myself from not screaming that's why I went on screaming like the child I am. My eyes went closed then I feel something over my lips. His cold hand was covering my mouth to let me get silent. And I have no idea what came over me when I bit his hand. Oops! "Ouch! Are you mad?" Before he could say something mean to insult me on purpose an announcement came once again telling us that we have arrived in the great London. When I think about London, I always remember its castles and the greatest Architecture in the world. New York City and London have nothing in common except for tall buildings and yes, there is one more thing, my life as a slave

The Calling Chapter 1 I am walking down the cliffy road, it’s dark out with only the street lamp to illuminate my path. I am slightly cold and very irritated at my current situation. I had gotten to my car only to discover the battery dead. Obviously the car would not start, could not even unlock the bloody door via car remote.

*Bella’s POV * The city smelled like rain and exhaust and something faintly sweet—roasted chestnuts, I think, though I couldn’t be sure. Everything felt unfamiliar in a way that pressed against my skin. The noise. The air. Even the light seemed sharper, like it didn’t soften itself for anyone. My suitcase wheels dragged unevenly over the cracked pavement as I crossed the street, my fingers tightening around the handle while a gust of wind slipped beneath my coat. London sat somewhere behind me now, across an ocean and a decision I couldn’t undo, yet it lingered in the way my chest refused to settle. In the way my thoughts kept circling back to him, as if distance had nothing to do with letti

The skyline sparkles below us like a silver crown. When we land, a black SUV is already waiting near the runway. A tall driver in a suit opens the door and says, “Mrs. Carter. Miss Carter. Welcome to London.” We get in. I lean against the window, staring at the streets as we drive through the heart of the city. It's midday and everything feels alive, people walking in coats and heels, men holding coffee cups, couples laughing by the road. London looks expensive and elegant and a little intimidating. We stopped at a bakery after a while. Mom insists we should buy something “freshly baked” before meeting Catalina.

Ahana Finally landed. My first trip outside Canada. I try to get used to my environment. The air surely is different. That's why I have only stuck to Canada, because I can't imagine myself elsewhere, sweating or shivering. Another sharp gust of wind slaps me in the face, and I marvel anew, but as I get on the horizontal escalator, as larger than life adverts welcome me to London as I glide on the moving walkway, I forget the air and take in my new reality. I have left Canada. I'm in London. I will soon be reunited with Aput. And that is enough to make me excited all over again.