Novel & Cerita Mary Jane: A Novel

"I want Riley. I should be the one with custody of her. She's mine." Maryanne's features crumple up with disgust as she looks the woman up and down. Her fear dies down, but only slightly, as she is overwhelmed by irritation and anger. "No, she isn't." As the woman is now inches from Maryanne, the librarian can see the deep pores in the stranger's face and the grime caking her skin. The stench wafting off the woman is sickening, causing nausea rolling through Maryanne's stomach. She turns her head in order to catch a fresh breath of air, but it gives the stranger an opportunity to raise her fist, ready to make contact with the librarian's jaw. The families watching gasp, one man standing in p

There are larger battles than desire. By the time I reached the northern ridge where my aunt lived, I had calmed enough to remember why I needed her. If anyone held the truth about my bloodline, it was her. Her cottage sat under the twisted boughs of a dead oak, the air thick with herbs and smoke. She was waiting for me, as though she had already known I’d come. Her eyes, pale and sharp like winter ice, fixed on me the moment I entered. “You look tired,” she said, her voice like gravel.

Her father is hardly ever home, working long hours in the city while her mother spends most of her time grading papers from all of her high school students. She opens the door quietly, but there is no need. Her mother is still awake. She's curled up in the living room reading her latest adventure novel wrapped on the comfy (and dare she call ugly) recliner her father just had to have. Her curly auburn hair is up in a bun with a few stray strands spiraling free as her eyes intently scan the new Kindle she received for her birthday only a few weeks ago. It's safe to say she has become a little obsessed with it. Can't say Sera can blame her. She herself escapes to a different world every time s

She was a woman who could actually resist the seduction of many men, but it wasn't easy for a man to resist her's. She took her eyes off the man and brought it to the counter, the receptionists were also staring at her, it was as if they had never seen such beauty their whole life, men were already fantasizing about the dirty acts and even some women wished they were lesbians so they could feel those juicy ass of hers, but apparently, miss Jane was in no mood for that. Miss Jane resumed her movement, then stopped at the counter, the receptionist here was a man, so she smiled as soon as she noticed the tensed aura on him, she was very sure he was hard right now, but she didn't care.

Jane’s POV I felt like if I blinked for one second, I would miss it all. It was heat and cold altogether, embracing me. It had to be the waves and the cold it carried. I wrapped my hand around my frame, wishing I hadn’t listened to Laura and her choice of clothing. Wishing I hadn’t come here at all. Because, deep down, I knew all it took was one wrong move. He looked like the night, with dark hair falling across his face, dark eyes, and an imposingly tall frame. He overshadowed everyone easily, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

Jane's p o v By the time I wake up I'm feeling entirely stretched out and relieved. I rise up to a sitting position and faced the darkness in my bedroom. My eyes slowly glare over my feet and from there, I look down the bed to see that Martinez is on his knees next to the wall. His hands are bound behind him while he is stripped naked except for a pair of his under knickers. A twisted cloth was forced into his mouth and tied probably at the back of his head. And he was made to kneel on a big plastic bag that was spread on the floor.

He brushed the ridiculous thought from his mind, turned on his heel, and walked back to his quarters, determined to erase the maid's tear-stained face from his memory and replace it with the masked dancer who actually owned his thoughts. Down in the cramped, suffocating dark of the servant quarters, the reality was far from quiet. I was sitting on the edge of my cot, my body shaking so violently that my teeth clicked together. I still had my arms wrapped tightly over my chest, holding the silk robe over the dark lace outfit like it could protect me from the memory of Diego’s heavy weight. My cheek was throbbing from the double assault of Doña Carmen’s malice and my mother’s desperate panic.

Aubrey looked at me wanting to ask who this person was, but I didn't really know who she was, so I could only reply with a smile of goodwill. “I know you came here to inquire about Ancanta's death, so I have been here waiting for your arrival. Call me Jane. Follow me, let's go into the library that year." Although I knew that Aubrey and I were very confused, the nun Jane continued to walk, I felt a little strange but also hurried to follow in her footsteps. Mrs. Jane went to the library and entered, as fast as the wind, I did not see her. If it weren't for her to be an eighty-year-old woman, no one would have believed that at that age she could be so healthy.

Mary Jane took refuge in drugs and that union only took the worst out of Jeremy Porter, she despised Mary, she did not like her as a woman, less as a person, she disliked everything about her and she could never have seen her with pleasure, but he was a good father, Mary recognized that, she did not want to hate him, because she had managed to understand that he was also trapped in that union that his parents organized. "For what?" But, Mary reached a point where she lost herself so much, that she was unable to remember how she was before. Not because of drugs, drugs were only the relief, but because of the sadness, the great emptiness that was inside it. Jeremy had managed to see that she w

A small pagoda and cold-hardy bamboo that is planted on the side. “It’s only been two weeks since I’ve been existing as Marianne, but it feels like it happened a long time and I’ve also gotten used to being a woman. My way of thinking is not the same as well. I suppose the body really dominates the mind. As a doctor… I don’t even know if I can function as a doctor. It feels like that was a long time ago. Marianne was good in piano and arts. I’ve never really liked art but I can play the piano, well maybe not as good as her,” Marianne ruminates in her situation. John and Carl who are in the kitchen are having a ploughman’s lunch prepared by Mrs. Smith, who just got back from her holiday.