Marlowe Review Novels & Stories

“Any battlefield. With dirt under my nails, a sword in my hand, and a problem before me that can be solved with strength and wit. Not in this gilded cage, in this torture device of a dress, waiting for a pampered prince to decide my fate based on the width of my smile or the flutter of my lashes. I’d rather take an arrow in the field than another minute of this prim, proper, pointless performance to soothe the ego of a man who thinks love is a weakness and women are a trial to be endured.” The silence that followed was absolute. It was the silence of a suspended breath, of a tilted world trying to right itself. The other ladies were statues of shock. The King’s face was unreadable. Makil’s h

"But they can be dealt with. Negotiated with. Married off, allied with, bought." "Get off my yard," Sloane said from her knees. "I'm going. I've got what I came for, I just didn't know it until eleven seconds ago." Marlowe turned. "Congratulations, Miss Cole. You've stopped being a problem and started being a country. You'll find that's considerably worse." He walked up to his car. And Maya stood alone in the middle of a yard full of people trying to get off their knees without looking at her, and understood, in a slow cold wave, that she had just won and that there was nothing whatsoever good about it.

We ordered too much food and ate it on the couch in varying configurations, Marlowe on the floor with his back against the coffee table the way I suspected he'd always sat in this house, Aaron at one end of the sofa, me somewhere in the middle, close enough that his shoulder was a constant warm presence without either of us making a thing of it. Marlowe put on something I didn't recognize that turned out to be a documentary about competitive dog grooming, which he defended with a seriousness that suggested he had strong prior opinions about the subject. Aaron was vocally unconvinced and then visibly absorbed within approximately twelve minutes, which Marlowe clocked with the satisfaction of

Ryan: Me neither. Eugene: Me too. It was just you. Slater: Whoa, look at that. Abandoning friends for love. Ryan: Is it the first time this has happened? Why are you more excited than the groom? Slater: Who's excited? You are the excited one. Eugene: Whatever helps you sleep at night. Slater: Doc, why are you so free today? Did your patients run away after seeing your cold face? Eugene: By the way, Klaus, does your old man know about your marriage?

When they spoke, it was short and cold, strictly about the merger and the new distribution lines. "The North is stabilized," Noah said, his voice flat. "Good," Max replied, not looking up from his steak. "Keep it that way." That was it. Business. No "how are you," no mention of the mess they had left behind. Maeve sat beside Noah, looking perfectly polished. She kept trying to break the silence, leaning toward me with a sharp smile. "So, Aria," Maeve started, her eyes scanning my face. "How is married life treating you? It’s different, isn't it? Being a wife instead of... well, whatever you were before."

And that'd be it. What!! Did he just say that is all I needed to know about him, even though he knows me so well? Clara would have let it go and remained silent in the past. I am Chole now, and I will undoubtedly discover what I want. I will not be forced to do anything against my will. "All right." I shrugged. Raising his head, he paused his computer typing and raised his eyebrows in inquiry. "After meeting with Sloane, I was pleased with the dresses she showed me. We also talked about other matters, so we can move forward with the wedding." I responded to his brow furrowed inquiry.

"I just needed some air too." "That's not an answer." "No," he agreed. "It's not." We stood there, facing each other in the dim light spilling from the house. Up close, I could see more details—the sharp line of his jaw, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the small scar above his left eyebrow. He was beautiful in a way that was almost unsettling, like something carved from marble and brought to life. "Why are you here?" I asked. "And don't say it's a coincidence."

“What did I just do?” Across from her, Alden Rowe seemed thinner now, his outline blurring at the edges like fog dissolving in morning light. “You accepted the watch,” he said. “The light answers to the one who chooses it.” “I didn’t choose anything!” she shot back. “You said the town—” “And you stayed.” Another tremor rippled through the cliff, but weaker this time. Below, the massive shape sank slowly into darker water. Not gone. Just deeper. Waiting. Mara forced herself to look at the lens. It was no longer cracked and dusty. The glass shimmered, polished and whole, casting a beam far across the ocean. Symbols faintly glowed along the brass frame—spirals and wave-like markings she had nev

“Yes, I know, but compensation isn't going to be enough! Or maybe I should just stay married to him.” My breath caught. Before I could stop myself, a laugh escaped my lips, leaving her staring at me in complete confusion. My God, I really don't understand this woman. What game were they playing now? Is this their next move? Is Desmond even aware of this, let alone Sebastian? The game was shifting in the strangest ways possible. “Why on earth are you laughing?” she snapped. “I’m being serious. If I can’t get half of his property, I’ll just stay his wife.”

No one knew that the room still contained everything about my dear wife. ‘’Mary,’’ I called her name again as I grabbed her portrait from the walls. My wife's face still glows in her picture even after death. She was a naturally beautiful woman, and she never wore makeup or did artificial hair because her long dark raven hair that dropped to her shoulders was enough hair for her already. She was the best thing ever to happen to me, and moving on without her was all a lie. I had moved on to get my revenge on Charlene for being responsible for their death, but I was not the villain.