Novel & Cerita Martha Beck Books

Ronan’s POV Martha placed book after book in front of me till it created a small pile. “I have booked marked all the pages that have some significance to this.” I nodded, taking another book as soon as I was done with the one in front of me. Thankfully, I was a fast reader and I was able to pore through the various amount of information that Martha needed me to understand. “Martha, we have read enough,” at least, enough to know what was wrong.

Randy hung behind me, the two of skidding to a stop when we could lay eyes on Martha. She was walking in a dazed fog into Alpha King Juden’s pack grounds. I watched our pack stop, hiding as the warriors of Lone Wolf surrounded Martha. They didn’t intervene, just let her walk toward the Alpha King’s estate. Randy’s paw swiped at my back leg but I ignored him, prowling forward and using the bush as cover. I snuck into the pack grounds, seeing Martha take the stairs down to the barracks below the house. I could see the purple, luminescence colors splayed out over the walls, bursting through the windows. It was the beacon, the curse running through her kind that forced her to fall in line.

Seraphina’s heart pounded in her chest as she stood at the threshold of the dimly lit room, the weight of the power she had just tapped into pressing down on her like a heavy cloak. The air was thick with the scent of old books and musty parchment, the walls lined with relics and objects of uncertain origin. Martha stood before her, the older woman’s expression unreadable, though there was an undeniable gleam of expectation in her eyes.

CASSANDRA “That bastard!” Marley exclaimed angrily as Becky finished the story. Her light green eyes flashed and her nostrils flared ever so slightly as she shook her head. “I know,” I sighed. “It’s unbelievable.” “You know, I was hit on by several men when I visited the city the other day,” Marley continued, and she tucked her dark hair behind her ear. “They were all so arrogant and nasty. I couldn’t believe the way they were treating me. It was as if I was a piece of meat rather than an accomplished doctor.”

When she spotted Sophie, her eyes widened in excitement, and she immediately put aside her stack of papers and walked over. “Sophie! Why are you a Mrs. Beckett now?” “Well, because I’m married, Mary,” Sophie chuckled. “Oh, right, of course,” Mary Dunham nodded, then she cleared over one chair—and by clearing over, it meant she just brushed over the papers on top so they scattered on the floor instead. “Sit, sit. You came here after all these years, that means something serious happened, right?” “Yes,” Sophie said, taking out Cynthia Abbott’s files from her bag. Mary received the files and read it, her eyes scanning. Her smile grew the more she read.

“Don’t just stand there. Lock the living room down until I say so.” The maid nodded and vanished. Upstairs, the slam of a bedroom door echoed. Then came a sound—low, guttural—a sob torn from somewhere primal. Then silence. Martha walked to the bar and poured herself a drink, vodka straight. Her fingers trembled as she lifted the glass. She had known Judith for years, but this? This was something else. A woman unraveling not from heartbreak, but from a complete loss of identity. Ten minutes passed. Then the familiar click of heels echoed again, softer this time, slower—but with deadly purpose.

Martha was there, of course, seated exactly where I’d left her, beside Rose’s crib, reading from a small Bible she’d found in the hospital’s prayer room. She looked up when I walked in, her face a mixture of fatigue and faint reproach. “How was breakfast?” “Good,” I muttered, setting my coffee on the table and glancing toward the crib. Rose was sleeping again, her tiny chest rising steadily. There was more color on her cheeks today. "You're not hungry?" “I'm okay with the fruits you brought,” Martha said, her tone softening. “Suit yourself,” I murmured, sipping my coffee. The liquid was too hot, scalding my tongue, but I welcomed the sting.

She changed into pajamas and got under the covers. A few minutes later, she was sound asleep. Jeff walked to their bedroom, then he changed into pajamas and took his wife in his arms. It felt so good to hold his wife’s soft body in his arms again. Martha went to the Shalom Shopping Mall with her best friends, Kate and Bonny. She looked at her friends and said, “I am starving. I skipped breakfast this morning because my parents and I were visiting the Ferguson family.” Kate looked at her, smiling and asked, “Did you see the handsome Thorne?” Martha shook her head and replied, “I think he was at his beach house or the company.” Then they walked to the restaurant to eat.

Martha said and went back to her work post. Martha is my best friend. We became friends three years ago when I started working at Mrs. Smith's boutique. She helped me a lot when I was newly employed, such as how to stay calm when I attended to snorty customers because I was very short-tempered. She has mud-brown hair, sky-blue eyes, and plump lips. Her face was dotted with freckles which only added to her unique beauty. She was of average height and very curvy in the right places. I've always envied her beauty. Martha is a man-lover; she fawns over any handsome man she sees. She has had a few heartbreaks in the past, but that doesn't seem to bother her. Nevertheless, I still love her.

’ ‘I’m trying, Acheron. ‘I know.’ He sounded just as frustrated as I was. ‘We should talk with Martha. If she’s being stubborn, I can take over.’ ‘Tomorrow.’ ‘I know.’ He quieted down after that, and it was lights out for me. *** Martha lived in a dump. She was one of those lonely old women we watched on TV. The town whispered about her, preventing their children from going near her, and she hated everyone else. Except she wasn’t an old woman. She just had the attitude.