Lucky Lucille's Dream Book Novels & Stories

He pointed at the wooden bench besides the bushes; I sat in silence , waiting for him to begin the story. He finally spoke, "About ten years ago, people say they saw the devil's true self along with his servants. It started with Lucille; she was in her kitchen baking a pie when she saw a white light outside of her kitchen window. Of course, she goes to check it out, but she didn't see anybody. At first , she thought it was a ghost, so she inspected further. It wasn't a ghost. But she did see a hole with smoke coming out of it. She said it didn't make any sense because the closer she got to the hole, the hotter the hole was. She believed it was smoke, but I think it was steam. Steam comes fro

In my past life, my memory had worsened after I'd lent Whitney my luck, and misfortune had followed me everywhere. Even though I still had some of my luck, half had gone to Whitney. That left me with only half. Indeed, my luck wasn't unlimited. Once it was gone, it was over. That was what the fortune-teller had told me, looking deadly serious. So I could only rely on hard work. It didn't bother me because I didn't regret lending my luck to Whitney before. She'd deserved it because she'd given me the warmth I desperately needed at that time. From that moment on, though, we would walk our separate paths.

"Am I dreaming? Tell me I'm not dreaming." Lucille reached over and pinched her hard on the thigh. "Ow!" "Still dreaming?" Gwen yelped, then burst out laughing and threw her arms around Lucille. All her worries—about Lucille's future, Lily's future, and whether Joanne could stand her ground against three powerful families—vanished at once.

Lucille reached for a small bag in the corner of her room and started to put in her books and school supplies that she had used a few days earlier. As she was sneaking out of her room, she was stopped in her tracks by a small voice calling out to her, "Lucille, where are you going so early in the morning?" Lowly stood at the door, looking at her with a puzzled face. Lucille was surprised of course, she was glad Lowly had started talking to her again, but the timing wasn't right, Lucille was already biting her lip, trying to find an excuse. "I'm going to the orphanage, Lowly. I want to go to school again. We don't know when Mother will let us go back," she whispered.

Food, however… Damian: (already standing) I can get you— Lucille: (death glare) Sit down. He doesn’t need to eat. Not after what he’s done with me and my wife. Eve: (sitting purposely far away, not looking at him) Dear Author, if you want anything to eat, Lucille will get it. Lucille: (brightens) Would that bring you back to my side? Eve: No. Lucille: (turns to Ilya) If I threaten to murder you, do you think you’d write her sitting beside me?

“Hmm.” We both sat down. I gestured to Lia. “This is Lia. She wants to be a model and I told her I'd help her achieve that dream.” “Well not all dreams are achievable, Everett,” Lucille muttered flatly. She eyed Lia up and down then frowned, “some dreams are merely delusions,” “Lia’s isn't. I promise.” Lucille’s eyes swept over her again. Then she leaned back in her chair and let out a dry chuckle.

"What's mine is yours. Take these—you can pawn them and start over. So you lost your job. You're a capable guy; you'll land on your feet." A greedy glint lit in his eyes as he snatched them. "You're right… you're right! With capital, I can turn this all around." I feigned sudden concern. "I've heard stories… they say one big win at a high-stakes table can set you up for life. But, Honey, promise me you won't gamble. We just don't have that kind of luck." The moment I said it, a dangerous hope ignited in his gaze. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled tissue. "Honey, I bought this for you. Here. If I gamble, I'll definitely have good luck, won't I?"

How did my life ever come to this? A year back, I had small dreams—dreams of painting, of having my own gallery, of living a quiet life with my father. But then fate stepped in, and here I was, dragged into the midst of the rich and ruthless with a marriage to a man who did not acknowledge me except when it was needed for his own gain. I turned on my side and hugged the pillow fiercely. Lucas Hawke. A man who was some great unkindness. Cold. Calculating. Infuriatingly unreadable. One minute he would ignore me as if I were invisible, and the next, he would be on national television mildly defending my honor.

I enjoyed the change of scenery. I acquired a book of simple spells that I had wanted to get for the Mage Library. The last copy got destroyed in a fight between a couple Mages. I also picked up a book on the Lucevkin dynasty that Queen Delia had been a part of as well as a book on the night sky. I had wanted to go star gazing but hadn’t had the chance due to my previous duties. Conor picked out several books of his own, but I hadn’t seen what they were about.

After the boys had left my room, I went through my bag and pulled out my favorite book, Night Flame, by Catherine Hart. I sat back in my chair by the window, prepared to spend the rest of the afternoon reading when a shiver ran down my spine. I jumped out of my seat and spun around to see a pair of yellow eyes glowing in the corner of the room. As those eyes drew closer to me, I realized that it was Simon, the fae that came to warn me the other day.