Lyn-z Novels & Stories

If he had, word would have already gotten out. She did not dwell on it and picked up the files to get back to work. Just before noon, her phone rang. It was Zac. “Liz, I found some information on the YL Bay project that might help you. When are you free to meet?” he asked. Liz hesitated. She did not much want to see him. “Mr. Lincoln, can’t you just tell me over the phone?” “If you don’t want to meet, I’ll have my assistant deliver the files,” he said.

“LZ ... oh ... Well LZ is just the sweetest and funniest guy. He is Canadian too and single. He is a film photographer and director and he just turned 26” “LZ ... what is that standing for ? Oh lord he is … perfect”. She is staring at him as he throws his head back laughing at something Nick says. “Do you think, do you think that maybe he would be interested ... that I could be his type ?” “Uhm his name is Zachary too ... so there was Zac and Zach and that got confusing, so the others started referring to him as ... Little Zach.. as he is smaller than Zac, and younger ... and that ended up being LZ”. I smile at her. “I have no idea if he has a type, but you're beautiful and sweet so ... why

"It is very, very nice to meet you." Lorna hid behind my leg for a moment, suddenly shy. She peeked out from behind my skirt, studying his face. "Are you the man who sent me the pink dollhouse?" Lorna asked softly. "I am," Zyran smiled, his voice cracking. "My name is Zyran. Do you like the house?" Lorna stepped out from behind my leg. "It is the best house ever! It has stairs inside! And a little bed for my bunny!" "I am very glad you like it," Zyran breathed out, his eyes scanning her face. He looked mesmerized, seeing his own features reflected back at him.

The big guy upstairs must've been listening, because he made an exit not long after. Jared brought me lunch which I ate at my desk, because I found that the last person had made a mess of the files. Not that anything was missing, it's just that there was no real order to anything. Around two the phone rang, good, break up the monotony. "Lyon's Place, how may I help you?" "Where the fuck is Lyon?" "Excuse me?" "Lyon, the quack that runs that outfit over there, where the hell is he?"

That evening, the family hosted a barbecue in the garden. Grills smoked. Drinks flowed. Laughter rang out, loud and forced in places. The food was good. The company warm. But beneath it all, resentment simmered, refusing to die. Ryan had seen everything. He cornered Lucien near the edge of the yard, voice low but sharp. “You’re an asshole,” Ryan said. “You don’t get to mess with her like that.” Lucien’s eyes darkened. He looked down at Ryan, unbothered, dangerous in his calm.

The kind of nothing that takes skill to produce. "Not Lydia's people," Zayden said, that evening, in the flat and certain way he stated things he had verified. "Lydia's approach is direct. She sends numbers and force and she doesn't particularly care about being tracked afterward because she considers herself above consequence." He paused. "This is someone else." Someone else.

It was a text from both Bran and Mike. Twin telepathy? Or did they just remember to text me at the same time? Bran: Hey. Sorry I haven’t texted you all day. Are you having a good day? Yale was fun, I’ll show you pictures when I’m back. Me: It's okay. Yes, I did. I was out with the girls and El’s mom. Can’t wait. I sent a reply, adding a photo of me and the girls with the Statue of Liberty.

Seeing that Master Ziegler was about to be dragged outside… Harvey York suddenly whispered, “Master Lynch, Master Ziegler’s skills are indeed not that remarkable, but he is really trying to help. “Just do me a favor. Let him live. After all, Lady Lynch has just recovered. She needs to acquire merits.” “Okay, you have the final say, Brother York!” Although Benjamin Lynch did not know why Harvey pleaded for Master Ziegler, he would not care about this small character.

she clarified, throwing me a lifeline. Oh. Thank goodness. “What about your plans for Denver?” I chuckled, not wanting to impose. If they had a night of sordid splendor planned, then I was not getting embroiled in any of that. No, thank you. We had enough of that going on at our house. “He’ll survive. And so will those feral sons of mine. They can sleep out on the goddamned porch. It’ll serve them right for keeping something as big as this from their momma.” Lynn threw her hair over her shoulder and cast a steely glare down the road.