Memoir Buckman Novels & Stories

Quitman was so angry that he picked up the ruler on the table and threw it straight at Bucky: "Get lost, get lost. One by one, you want to provoke me. Get lost." Bucky saw the anger that seemed to be about to burst out in Mr. Quitman's eyes, but his expression remained cold and unchanging: "Grandpa, don't be angry, high blood pressure will have a bad effect. I'll go back to the company first, you handle the news on the internet yourself." Before he finished speaking, Mr. Quitman became even angrier, his whole body trembling. Bucky called the secretary who often followed Mr. Quitman in: "Riccardo, take good care of grandpa."

Samantha's with me, I didn't want to risk her life but, with what happened a while ago, she's at risk. The memories were still hunting her every time she hears gunshots and things involving violence she would space out or hallucinate. She panicked a while ago and now, she's sleeping on my shoulder. I guess the past was still a dark room for her, it left her unhealed scars. She couldn't let go of it. I was like her when my parents died. The scenery I witnessed kept on bothering me every time I closed my eyes but a mafia boss couldn't be weak, so I tried my very best to remove those memories from me and finally move on from it.

“This person I want you to meet happens to share my opinion of Buck.” Evelyn collected her clothes and emerged from behind the screen as Andrew took a seat on the bench to put his shoes on. She stopped before him, presenting her zipper on the back of her dress, not because she needed his help with it, but because she knew it was a task he enjoyed. “In what way?” He planted a kiss on the flesh exposed to him before zipping the dress for her and fastening the hook and eye closure. “Before the Crash, Mr. Buck was employed at the zoo here.”

And a name: #7: Samuel “Buck” Buckner – The Silent Courier. Location: The Rockhound’s Claim, County Rd 42, Brothers, OR. Key Phrase: “What did you bring me from the city?” The Silent Courier. A man in the desert. And a question. I started the car. The wipers slashed at the rain. The chain was pulling me forward, one link at a time. Anya Sharma’s guilt was my fuel. My mother’s lullaby was my map. And somewhere in a bunker or a lab, Luther was the reason I couldn’t stop.

"It is. And they all remember you, even when you can't remember them." "Is that sad or beautiful?" "Both. It's both." Hope pulled out a notebook. "I've been recording everything, Mom. Every lucid conversation, every memory fragment, every moment of clarity. I'm documenting your decline so future families will understand what Alzheimer's looks like from the inside." "That sounds awful." "It's honest. You always valued honesty over comfort." "Did I?" "You did. You insisted the memoir and documentary show everything – the abuse, the failures, the memory loss. All of it."

I had assumed they had killed Adam after the kidnapping and buried him with the secret he had been alive all this time somewhere not to be found again. Then there was James. Well, I’m grateful for his call because being at the hospital now I think my mind is going to go on overload. Someone did try to kill Kioni or someone was murdered in Kioni’s ward. Seriously, today wins. I should really reconsider writing a memoir. A billionaire’s life is never dull. “Should we leave?”

I knew he was talking about Damien who was still there. I went back to my bed. Minnie was not there anymore. She had gone back to her quarters that very night we were done so as not to rouse suspicion. I sat gently on the bed, pondering all what my mind had gone through this morning. First there was the thought of me having dominion over all wolves, then there was me recalling the events of my childhood were my memory completely blanked out after I caught my father and Aariv in a deep discussion about a book and a framed photo. I laid down on my pillow, closing my eyes and concentrating hard. I tried to relive that moment again but the same thing happened. I listened to the exact conversatio

"Would you give a chance to someone who has hurt you before? I loved him so much back then, he was the only one in my world. I did everything for him, but what did I get? “Endless hurt, the hurt from the people around him caused me to lose my child. I almost perished in that raging fire. Hope, I can't get over this..." "I heard Buck talking about it. But he had amnesia, Sis. He doesn't remember you. For him, you were a stranger. That's why he trusts the people he trusts and doubts you. Cedric is a victim too. He was injured and lost his memory for you. If you really think about it, he is also a victim."

A blessing in that I had much easier time with my studies and a curse in hat I never forgot anything I had come across in life. I have one little sister who so happens to be my world. I could do anything for that little girl just to see her pretty dimpled smile. My sister and I have quite a big age gap since she’s 16 years old now. My mum is a florist and her love for flowers never seizes to amaze me every other day. She owns a flower shop back at my home town at Clear Lake. My dad works as a police officer in the local PD. So we didn’t have much growing up but we had enough to sustain our everyday needs. We owned one car which my mom used to take to work so I was left to catch the bus to sc

ELEVEN I don’t remember much about the ride home. Bobby and I barely spoke as he drove wordlessly, staring down the road, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his copy of The King Wears Yellow. And me? To be honest, I can’t exactly remember, to this day. I think . . . I believe . . . I must’ve spent the ride flipping through my copy of the book. Even that is still a mystery to me. How I could’ve been walking aimlessly through the bookstore one moment, scorning Reverend McIlvian and his healing powers, and the next unconsciously buying his book, of all things.