Manon Book Novels & Stories

Joe insisted. "It's ten or even a hundred times better than just one alpha or any man. I mean, they worshipped my body with their skilled tongue," "Eew, no! Those are my brothers. Don't show me that picture," Manon screams, shaking her head. I shifted the topic away from myself and asked, "So, Manon, what's happening between you and Jay?" She frowned slightly, and I almost regretted asking, but she responded.

,she said. He looked deep into the lady's eyes who decided to give him a slight shimmer of hope,did he need it? Maybe,someone to tell him it'll be okay and bring back his fathers, he did not what it took. Manon sat down on the floor as she took a stone drawing something like a triangle in a circle, she stated "I do not have time to explain,trust I wish I did. ",taking Isak's hands slashing the blood out of it and she did same for Iranna,as she was called,and then she muttered some words and the breach opened....

I know what I need to do. “An ascension changes nothing,” Manon spits, hurtling a ball of fire at me. I effortlessly raise my hand catch the ball of fire, and watch as Manon’s eyes widen in alarm. I turn my hand and examine the ball of fire and smile as I feel its flame tickle my hand. I slowly close my hand and snuff the fire out and focus my attention back on Manon.

“I am serious! I need help! It’s already 3pm, I have less than an hour and thirty minutes to get ready. Come on guys. Manon, give me your best kissing tips. Better still, let’s practice!” “Urgh. She’s a clueless virgin.” Alaric muttered. “So are you!” I screamed back at him. “Evangeline,” I froze. My eyes shot up and met Manon’s stormy gray eyes. A heavy blanket of silence fell over our table. Manon does not use my full name. Not unless she’s dead serious, or drunk and about to spew one of her foolish lectures on morality or whatever fun topic she learned at the bottom of a bottle.

I quickly typed out his name 'Caesar Monsorrie ' but nothing came back from the search, rather it spelled out 'name does not exist ' Does not exist? I must've typed wrong. I typed his name again this time with full capitalization but the same result came back. My eyes widened in shock and wandered in confusion. This is weird. Why is the wealthiest man in the country not found on the internet? I took deep breaths to steady my beating heart and typed 'The Monsorries ' but the same result came back from the search. 'Name does not exist ' I started to tremble. Am I married to a ghost? Have I been sold to a family of ghosts?

You see ma'am she can't afford to stay away from me? Monalisa scoffed. "Can't afford to do that my butt. Hey lady, I'm not interested in him. He misunderstood the situation. I had fallen and he caught me. I thought I was caught by my husband not knowing he caught me. I mean, how dare he put his hand around a married woman. Shameless " Monalisa said "What? I was just being a gentleman saving a lady in distress. If I had let you fall, you would have sustained an injury "

Manon asked, giggling. “What else does this sound like?” I whispered, covering my face in shame. “I never knew Bruno was this crazy! Othello too! that princess looking, innocent, crazy bastard.” “Now I wish I was Othello,” Queen Manon stated and winked. “Fuck you,” I growled in disgust. She stood up from the bed and walked closer to the wall, pressing her ears on it, “Jesus!” She murmured and smirked. “You are so dirty,” I retorted, laughing wholeheartedly, “Get away from the wall.”

The grand library glowed with the soft amber light of floating lanterns and a roaring hearth fire that cast long, dancing shadows across towering shelves. Guests had retired for the evening after another lavish solstice supper, but the manor refused to sleep. Enchanted books rustled faintly on their own, pages turning as if reading scandalous secrets aloud. Elara slipped inside after midnight, telling herself she only wanted a quiet moment with a novel to calm her racing mind. In truth, her body burned.

"I'm Kira. Don't mind Shaw; he has the tact of a wild animal. We are simply overjoyed that you are here." The fourth friend stepped out from the shadows near the grand mahogany bookshelf. His name was Mon. He was slender and elegant, with an intellectual air and sharp, piercing eyes that seemed to read the very structure of her soul. He wore a dark turtleneck and carried himself with a quiet, regal authority that suggested a vast, ancient knowledge. "Welcome, Yolande," Mon said, offering a slow, respectful nod. "Your presence in this house is a milestone we never truly believed we would witness. You are more than welcome here."