Norman Black Novels & Stories

A doorbell rang at the apartment. Norman walked to the door, expecting—almost hoping—to see Gabriella standing there. But when he opened it, a tall man in his mid-forties stood outside, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. His presence was cold, sharp, and powerful — like a man who was used to giving orders. The moment Norman saw him, his expression darkened. “What are you doing here?” Norman asked, his voice low and filled with hostility. “I came to see you, Norman,” the man replied calmly, stepping inside without waiting for permission.

“I mean. The timeline on this is actually insane.” “Three days,” Emory said, not looking up from his food. “New record or normal?” “For Tahni? Normal.” Maekynzie put her phone face-down with the specific emphasis of someone who had more to say and was choosing not to. Noelle was watching me sit down. Not saying anything yet.

I find a table in the very back corner, tucked behind a big stone pillar. It’s perfect. It’s dark. It’s invisible. I sit down and open my book—a worn copy of Theoretical Astrophysics. I hide the cover behind a paper bag. If people knew the creepy janitor was reading about black holes, they’d only find a new way to mock me. I take a bite of my apple, my eyes scanning the room. Across the hall, the Knights' table is a scream of noise and gold. They sit in the middle, lit up by the tall gothic windows. Alan Voss is at the head of the table, looking like a king carved out of ice and ink.

she asked, her voice a little too quick, a little too loud. Norman's eyes darted away from her, his body going rigid. He reached for a glass of water on the nightstand, his hands shaking slightly, a silent confession that he was hiding something. He knew his dirty games. He knew that he couldn’t just visit an old associate like that, especially a man who could be a threat. It was an unspoken rule in his world. Never visit a suspect.

The door groaned open. Norman walked toward me, his gait stripped of the confident, easy stride I had once relied on to keep the Hale Winery running. The man who had been my right hand, my confidant, and my lover, now looked like a stranger. His hair was long, unkempt and streaking with premature gray, and a thick, coarse beard covered the jawline that had once seemed so familiar. He sat down, the orange jumpsuit too bright against his sallow skin. When his eyes met mine, they sparked with a sudden, desperate light—a flash of the Sweet Norman I had once known.

" I immediately turned down the volume after the reporter finished speaking. Norman, whose preferred color was green and who possessed shirts in various green shades, surprised me today by entering my office in a dark blue shirt neatly tucked into white pants, complemented by black loafers. His well-coiffed hair added to the polished look, making him appear quite impressive. "What on earth did you do to my assistant?" I gawked at him in disbelief. "I don't recognize you," I declared, shaking my head. "I look ridiculous, don't I?" He winced, adding, "No wonder those ladies were staring and laughing." His forehead wrinkled in a frown.

It should be illegal to look this nerve wrecking. The first three buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a patch of clear slightly tanned skin. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, showing off the prominent veins that ran up his back hand. I felt the breath hitch in my wind pipes as our eyes met, his mesmerizing green stare made my cheeks flush and my knees go weak, it was like I was paralyzed as I stood there while his eyes still roamed me. "I don't think I've introduced myself. Damon Blackwood" his husky voice made my heart rate pick up. A smirk crawled unto his features as he stretched out a hand for me and I just stared in awe, his words sinking in.

Doubting if she is even attracted to me. But Naomi surprises me when her next words leave her mouth. " I'm sorry to say this Mr. Black, but you don't always get to have whatever thing you want. And nothing's gonna make me want you, not even your sleek, sweet, dirty lines." Damn. Talk about a boner killer.

The infamous Andrew walked in with his bag slung sluggishly over his shoulders. I sat up straighter to have a better look at his face. Oh my.... My brain seemed to malfunction. Everything slowed even my heart stopped. I needed time to take him all in. He didn't have freckles, he didn't wear glasses, he didn't need braces because....hell.....shit....he had the most perfect smile on earth. I couldn't help but stare. He had jet black hair that seemed to bring out his dangerously grey eyes. They were so bright but his long eyelashes overshadowed them. There was something dark in those eyes...mysterious. It oozed all over him.

With a shaky little sigh that smacked of defeat, she tapped in her access code, surprising him with her sudden willingness. “Here… You can look at my emails,” Norah urged. “You’ll see I was counseling him that certain requests could be interpreted as… shady.” ***** She offered him the phone. Norah didn’t know much about climbing out of a hole, but she knew you had to hit rock bottom to be able to go up… so she went there. At least, this humiliation was her choice and only between the two of them, now that the room was empty.