Marisol Garcia Novels & Stories

BRENDA WILSON. Giordana. "Hi, I'm Brenda Wilson." I turned in the direction of the voice. A tall, slim, model-like lady stood before me. She wore a dress that had a deep v-cut neckline exposing an ample amount of cleavage, the dress was very short and barely reached her mid-thighs. Her lips were painted blood red and her eyes were smokey. Well, she was definitely beautiful but something seemed off about her. Her smile was fake.

Damn, I'm hype! "So, since you are our future front line assets, can you introduce yourself" He points his finger at me and looks with a quizzical face. I stand up and introduce myself. "I'm Maria Isabela Monedero. I'm 24 years old," Single and ready to mingle. "I love to write romance tragedy genres and have joined many contests before, but I'm embarrassed to say this. I never actually won any of them, but I always get in second place or third place." As I introduce myself, I notice four guys entering the room.

"Marcella Garcia." Shit.

"Wish they didn't create you." "Esmeralda! Great to see you," I say, cutting Landon and Malik's voices off as I stood. She wanders in, a brightly coloured shawl covering half her face. Curiously, both Alphas and Simone watch her glide over, and into the seat I pulled out for her. Slowly, she unwraps the fabric around her head. "I can sense the tension in the room. I hope we can solve the case of missing Lexia." It doesn't surprise me that she knows without having to be told. She probably took one glance at my eyes and saw the pain deep set in there.

“You’re saying all of this… is you?” “Yes,” I said, voice firmer now. “It’s me. I’m not just Isabella who lost her marriage. I’m not just the woman Kiara thinks she can shatter. I am Marisol Abram. Someone tried to erase me, but I survived. And now I’m remembering.” The truth filled the room like the storm I had felt gathering for days. Mia’s eyes glistened with worry, but there was something else too—pride, fierce and protective.

"And I'm so proud to see you finally took that jump and did it. You have your own fucking show, Marisol! That's big." "It's not that great yet but, baby steps. Hopefully, today's guest appearances will spike the viewing numbers and bring in the dough." "I'll make it worth the while. Anything for you," he says, tightening his hold on my hand, but not in a way that's uncomfortable. "Marisol, I'd like you to meet Marelyn. Marelyn, meet Marisol Escarra. She was my mentor when I started working in the film industry. Practically made me who I am today."

This time she did not even doubt if the food was poisoned she seemed to be enjoying her meal, licking her chops and drinking water. "You know for a mother of a son in his late twenties you look so pretty. Will you please tell me your secret" Carlos asked squatting in front of her, she could sniff his scent and the shadow of his menacing figure cast on her caused a lot of fear. "Exercise, I was a gym instructor before the war" Maria said. Carlos let her finish the meal. Everyone has their breaking point and Maria's breaking point was around the corner. Her cooperation was going to save her a great deal of pain and torture.

The same girl who, in his eyes, could not even harm an ant, the one who had always seemed so fragile and dependent, had attacked a disabled elderly woman. Marisol brushed her disheveled hair back and looked at Miriam and Lucian with clear disgust. “She started it! Since the wedding can’t go on, I’m leaving now. “My… condition is acting up again, so I need to go take my medication. This kind of situation is too much for me.” Marisol did not spare Lucian another glance. Taking advantage of the moment while he was helping his mother, she turned and ran out of the hotel, hailed a taxi, and sped away.

She wiped Isabel’s injured body clean with a wet towel and waited for the doctor’s arrival. Xavi returned with the doctor, who did a thorough check up on Isabel and confirmed that she was in a coma, but he admitted that he wasn’t certain how soon she would regain her consciousness. Paulina’s sadness turned to happiness on hearing the news. She believed there was a glimmer of hope in her daughter’s case because Isabel was a strong werewolf.

Marisol spat, picking her bruised body off the floor ever so slowly, “You sound really dumb for someone who's supposedly all mighty.” “Oh please, brainwashed animal.” She flicked her wrist, and Marisol felt another strong gust of wind that sent her back to the floor, “You are nothing compared to me. How gullible could you be… you let them lead you right into my trap.” She had a satisfied glint in her eyes, swirling around in those dark orbs, perfectly mixing with her irritation at the sight of Marisol.