Mr Harlow Novels & Stories

The thought of rejection gnawed at me, but the idea of never taking the chance was far worse. By the time lunch rolled around, I had barely made a dent in my work. Marcus had stopped by twice to glare at me, muttering something about how the pack would fall apart if I didn’t get my act together. Normally, his sarcasm would have earned a quick retort, but today, I let it slide because he was mostly right I needed advice, and there was only one person who could give it to me. --- The smell of fresh bread and herbs greeted me as I stepped into the pack house kitchen where our house keeper ,Mrs Harlow was busy kneading dough, her hands covered in flour, it reminded me of a time when all I had wo

I knew the question had come from Grandpa. "Everything is under control," I muttered, even though I wasn't so sure myself. I could feel everyone's eyes on me. Every glance and every hushed conversation made my anger grow. I was Ronald Haverford. I had never stood in front of a crowd and allowed anyone to make a fool of me. Yet here I was, standing alone at the altar while my bride was nowhere to be found. "Ronald..." Jason called quietly as he moved closer to me. "Maybe something happened. Let's try to find out what's going on before..."