Nora Mercer Novels & Stories

yelled Nora as she stood up from the bed looking at her mum, "If you want to tell me, I will find out for myself," she concluded and walked out of the room. She just watched as she left the room, then she stood up and left to her room. * * * * There was a young lady of about 22 years old, of about 5'7 feet tall, her long brown hair dropping on her shoulders, with blue eyes a necromancer, she was standing by the window waiting for Mrs Langson to come in. It was undeniable who she was and how she knew they were there, there must be trouble, thought Mrs Langson.

NARRATOR In a gorgeous private restaurant with an incredible view of the city, two people were having lunch at an elegant table for two as they chatted mainly about business. Opposite Rock was a glamorous looking woman, who seemed to be in her early forties. She was no other person but Nora Jones. She was a famous renowned actress and the CEO of Nora cosmetics. She was also the author of Hidden Secrets; The Heart of Man. This is a book that was as widely known as its author.

“I know what they’re doing. I asked you who he’s kissing.” “You…” she leaned forward, practically snarling, “you did find out who she is, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you came here with half-baked information and a pretty envelope.” She slammed her palm down on the desk. The photographs jumped. “Well?” she demanded. “Or do I need to hire someone else who actually delivers?” “Of course, I found out who she is,” Mr. Abel replied quickly. “Her name is Nora. Thirty-eight years old. She works as a manager at the Bamford headquarters in Paris… where Mr. Bamford is based.”

"Whatever she's planning, it happens in the next four days." I looked at the kitchen around me. Cam at his laptop. My father's coffee going cold. Outside, Seattle moving through its morning. "Come home," I said. "Tomorrow morning," he said. "Renner goes to oversight custody tonight." "Tomorrow morning," I agreed. I hung up. Looked at Cam. "A woman named Nora," I said. "British, Hunter-line, significant personal wealth. She's been running this from behind the ideology." Cam was already typing.

She replied again. “Nora Lancaster.” He called. “Look at me.” He said softly and she slowly raised her head to look at him. He stared at her and noticed she had Hazel eyes. “Hazel eyes.” He mumbled. Nora was also lost staring at him. “Nora Lancaster. How old are you?” “Seventeen.” She replied. “I didn't know a seventeen year old could work as a maid and besides, this is the first time seeing you around.” “I don't actually work here. I am just filling in for my mum, she is sick.”

Far from the palace, beyond the lush forests and guarded borders of the kingdom, nestled in the jagged cliffs where the sun barely touched the land, lived a woman cloaked in shadows. Nora. Her beauty mirrored Aurora’s—identical in every way down to the celestial blue of her eyes and the cascade of dark hair. But where Aurora’s presence brought warmth and light, Nora radiated cold ambition and eerie stillness. Raised in the hidden covens of the dark witches, she had never known love or mercy. Her life had been shaped by rituals, curses, and the hunger for power. The witches whispered a prophecy from the moment she could walk: The moon bore two, but only one shall rise.

When I found out I was going to die, I accepted it with ease. My mate, Simon Knightley, came to me with a sullen expression and said, "Zora, Laila has been in poor health since birth. She's an Omega with the weakest healing ability. "One of her kidneys is failing, and she needs a transplant to survive."

“Nora, you won’t last like this. Here, take my jacket.” Nora shook her head, teeth chattering, but her voice firm. “No. You wear it. I can take it.” In another lifetime, she had endured pitch-black isolation cells in the asylum. Compared to that, this cold was nothing. Merlin tried to insist, but Nora forced the jacket back on him. Instead, she pulled out both their phones. Higher up the slope, the signal flickered to life. Her phone showed one fragile bar. She quickly dialed Travis.

"It's not technically bigamy when one of the certificates is going to be forged." "Oh my God. You're laughing. You're sitting there laughing about it." I was. A little. I hadn't expected to be, but there was something light and strange in my chest. As if I had finally set down a bag I'd forgotten I was carrying. Nora was my oldest friend and, for a long time, my only one. She was a half-blood. Her mother is human and her father a Ashmoorwood wolf. She worked nights as an emergency room nurse. At a hospital that had never once questioned why its patients healed so fast. She had black curls that never behaved. vicious sense of humor, and a loyalty that could have flattened a building.

"Nora. Look at me. She's gone. She ran. She's probably halfway to Mexico in that ugly Camry with her ugly purse. Every cop in the state is looking for her. She's done." "She's not done," I said. "She left a thermos. You don't leave a thermos when you're done." My phone buzzed on the table. A number I didn't know. I almost let it go, and then I picked it up, because everything was a number I didn't know these days.