Melissa Novels & Stories

Damien asked warily. “Isn’t obvious?” the woman asked. “I am Melissa, the leader of the west coast witch coven,” she bowed dramatically. “A witch,” this time, everyone was shocked as they all took a protective stance while wondering what a witch could be doing there. “Wait, is that little night howler working with you? Is our prince really under a spell?” A nightwalker chief asked. “Aye, your prince is under a spell but not my spell,” Melissa said and everyone gasped. “And no, the little girl isn’t working with me. As a matter fact, she doesn’t even know she is being used.”

she said and batted her eyelashes flirtatiously. Lola caught the act and looked away with a grin pulling on her lips. She knew that Melissa wasn’t afraid to flirt, and more often than not, she ended up with the guy she wanted. She was beautiful and had long, curly brown hair, a bronze complexion, and long, full lashes. Not to mention, her fashion sense never ceased to amaze.

Melissa stood up, one hand pulling at Anna and the other pulling at Nina, “Let’s go.” “Mom, we need to change. Come on, let’s go get changed first, ok?” Nina coaxed patiently. Melissa nodded, “Ok, ok! Change and go out!” Mellissa changed into a one-piece, even putting extra care into her appearance. She filled her brows and put on a smudge of red lipstick. She held both hands in front of her, smiling gently at Anna, elegant and refined. Melissa didn’t look like a heavily ill middle-aged lady, she exuded an air of charm and elegance that came all too naturally.

“We make sure of it.” We reached the central fountain. Water sparkled in the sunlight. People sat on the stone rim, talking and laughing. Alessia sat, patting the spot beside her. “Sit down and catch your breath.” I sat down. The stone was warm from the sun. “So,” she said. “Melissa. What does she look like?” I hesitated. “Mmh… She has dark hair, brown eyes. She's quiet but strong. She… she doesn’t give up easily.”

Probably some guy gave her a fake number in the bar. "I know what it is. But who are you?" She again asks me anxiously. "I am secretary of the President of the Damison Group. My name is Ethan Stone." I reply to her irritatingly, as she is wasting my time. I need to go home and take a lavender bath with my rubber ducks.

She jokingly told her. Melissa Johnson, the youngest miss of the Johnsons. 25 years old and her best friend, maybe since they were just fetus. Everyone can notice the resemblance between her and Maverick. She’s indeed a beauty, wearing a black body-hugging dress and high heels. “I missed you, Sob.” The woman said with her slightly teary eyes. Melissa went to Spain for work experience in a span of three months. They have not seen each other for a long time and she just came back.

Danika Williams I called Elizabeth as I started getting ready but I was a mess. I didn’t understand what was appropriate to wear, how much makeup was appropriate to apply or how high my shoes can be. Elizabeth is great with such things. Parents love her, she is very respectful and sweet. “Oh thank god Elizabeth.” I breathe out as the call connects on the last ring. “Yello! Who this?” I hear a childish voice but it was a woman I could tell. “Danika here. I need to talk to Elizabeth.” I say as I go through the clothes in my walk in closet.

JESSICA'S POV. A WEEK LATER. "Jessica," Daniel called from outside while I recited my prepared lines one last time in the living room mirror. "I'm Melissa and I'm an environmentalist who loves animals, children and works for an NGO." "Jessica please!" "I'm coming," I screamed, giving myself one last glance in the mirror.

he said quietly. Alice’s voice dropped. “Then we underestimated her.” Melissa returned home late that evening. Not exhausted. Not tense. Just thoughtful. She slipped out of her heels, walked barefoot to the window, and stood there for a long moment watching the city breathe. Somewhere out there, Lisa was likely pacing. Alice was calculating. Castor was watching. And Melissa? She felt nothing urgent. Her phone buzzed again. An unknown number. She considered ignoring it then answered. “Yes?”

` It was a cool, breezy and stormy night. Rain came down in sheets, as a dark figure stood before a house. The house was pretty ordinary, white with blue shutters; it didn't have more than two bedrooms. It looked like a cozy little family home with flowers and shrubs lining the front lawn, and then the smell from the pellet stove smoke invaded his nostrils. He took a deep breath and pulled out an old, rusted compass from his black trench coat. It looked like it could have been from the 14th century, the small, brass disc was dented and the Victorian designs were faded. He studied it as it pointed east, towards the small house. He looked the house over carefully, looking for the best entrance