Long Island Novel Novels & Stories

Isabella reaches for my hand absently, squeezing once before returning her attention to Rico’s story. I let her. Her touch is warm, familiar, safe and normal. This is the life I chose. This is the woman I married. And yet my attention keeps drifting back to Isla like a compass needle refusing to settle. I remember the way Isla used to sit at tables like this and shrink herself. How she used to watch rooms the way prey does, cataloging exits, measuring danger. She’s different now. Something—or someone—has given her confidence. That thought needles me.

Build it the way it should be built. Two years ago, he would have said yes immediately, or no immediately, or found a way to make either answer feel like a decision rather than a reflex. Two years ago, he'd been building his small manageable life, and the idea of Manhattan, of the firm, of any of it had felt like a room he'd left and locked behind him. It didn't feel locked anymore. That was new. He thought about the map in his coffee table drawer — Isla Menor, population four thousand, main export things worth keeping. He'd put it out two weeks ago. Left it there. Started seeing it every morning when he made coffee.

Tiana Greene arrives on Lycan Isle with nothing but a suitcase, a scarred past, and a desperate need for work. When she is hired as a maid in the sprawling cliff-side mansion of Ross Lycan – the island’s reclusive billionaire – she expects long hours, strict rules, and silence. What she does not expect is the man himself: cold as the steel in his voice, brutally private, and carrying a shadow in his gaze that keeps everyone at arm’s length. Rumours whisper through the island of former staff fleeing in fear, of Ross’s cruelty, and of the mysteriously vanished brother whose memory haunts the mansion halls. Tiana tries to keep her distance, but every forbidden glance and accidental touch tight

At centre rose the ruined tower wrapped in thickest vines, blue‑white light streaming brightest from its top: true heart of island. Selena read slowly. “I repeated exactly the mistake that destroyed them,” she said trembling. “Tried beating you… and fed shadows instead.” Lea rested hand gently upon hers. “I thought rivalry made strength but it tears you apart.” Later we moved deeper toward the heartland, and soon felt new trouble: food became very scarce. Trees bore hardly anything; bushes stood empty; even small animals hid far away. “Island prepares for storm,” Kael said softly. “Nature pulls back its gifts beforehand.”

Isabella isn't in the room and I glance around, wondering where she has gone when I hear the shower running. She must be in the bathroom. I was thinking she had gone somewhere else in embarrassment of what she had done to humiliate me but it's ok. I understand that she is only trying to help. I am thinking of going out to give her enough time to come out and get dressed when my gaze falls on the book on the sectional sofa. It looks like a novel so I pick it up. The title is MAIL-ORDER BRIDE and it looks like a romantic novel from the 20th century. I can figure it out from the cover of the book which has a bride and a man in a frock.

Asked an excited Arianna. She handed them the book that she had brought with her. Everyone looked at it with disbelief. "It looks like she's written this," said Hudson. "Where did you find this book?" Asked David Gray with interest. "Uncle David, this book has ranked as The New York Times Bestseller consecutively for the last few months," said Arianna. Everyone was stunned to hear that the little Isabella who had run away from home was a best-selling author of the country! "How do we contact her for an autograph?" Asked Weston at last, looking proud of his Isabella. Arianna smiled and took out her phone.

Mikhail At the end of a winding drive, the tall iron gates creak open despite the lack of rust on the painted hinges. I drive onto the grounds of the Long Island mansion where Maria was born while she sits quietly beside me in the Mercedes with her hands folded in her lap. I decided we would come here alone, assuming neither of us could have anticipated the sight looming over us. In a neighborhood filled with sheltered clapboard houses close to the ocean, the imposing mansion looks like a gothic misfit.

But facing this girl, she couldn't help feeling a bit shaken. Camellia chuckled, but as she and Rose caught sight of a large patch of white roses, they both froze. Camellias pondered, "Laura, who owns this island?" "I do!" Laura said firmly. Wind Island was hers, the only place in the world she could call home, despite its bloodshed and brutality. It was the only place she truly belonged. Rose scanned the sea of flowers with deep, cold eyes. Was it really a coincidence? She and Camellia couldn't help but stop in their tracks.

I licked my bottom lip, wetting it and I accidentally saw Damien watching me intently. I choke and what happened between us in the powder room and emergency stairs started haunting my memories again. "Lucky, we'll go with Mr. Green." I don't have a choice but to ride the same helicopter with Damien and Mr. Keller. I was silent the whole ride while they're talking about the redevelopment of the island. I was looking at the view and starting to enjoy it. A smile crept on my lips after we landed in the Isla Riva. The island is like a paradise. It's so beautiful. The water is beautifully clear and blue. The rock formations are incredible. All in all, the island is magically fascinating.

The ex-housekeeper looked as cucumber-cool and in control as she had always done, and the satisfied smile on her lips made Isabella think Brand's 'generous settlement' must have been generous indeed. By lunchtime she and Connie were back in the apartment in Point Grey. 'End of page, end of chapter,' Isabella muttered at a sink full of dishes. 'Now all I have to do is finish the book.' She had a feeling that it might not be as easy as it sounded.