Oriana Thomson Novels & Stories

Back then, she didn't know what Thomas had seen in Oriana and although, all he had done was bully her almost to the brink of death, she was still jealous of the undivided attention he gave while bullying her. But now, everything was different. Oriana was now a successful and independent woman who had managed to land a major job as a journalist in the famous Hyde Newspaper Agency and that's not even the end. She had also gotten more flesh to her bones. The puny high schooler Oriana was a bag of bones compared to this slightly curvy woman seated before her. Calla scowled at the obvious development in her beauty. “It's been so long since we last saw you and you came to town, yet you couldn't co

I grabbed my notebook, straightened my tie, and walked down the empty hall to her door. I knocked softly. 'Enter,' her voice called out, sharp and commanding. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Her office was huge, with a massive oak desk in the center, shelves full of books and awards, and a leather couch against one wall. Oriana sat behind the desk, her dark hair pulled back tight, wearing a crisp white blouse and a black pencil skirt that hugged her curves. She was in her late thirties, I guessed, with sharp green eyes that locked onto me right away.

She was like a nymph. The nymph was the embodiment of the goddess of beauty. "Dora, what's up?" Tabitha looked at her gently. Theodora wiped her mouth, "Tabitha, Orson is here and has something to tell you." Tabitha was already quite embarrassed to trouble Orson. Now that he had a mate, she should keep a distance from him. "What does Dr. Romero have to say?" Tabitha knew that she should be more aware, so she changed her address accordingly.

that the money lent by the orphanage was just enough to last for a month. Good thing that my orphanage had an educational program which helped me finish high school and this aided me to get a job easily at the inventory department of Lyla’s Café. I must admit that everything went smoothly, maybe I was truly lucky. However, I still wanted to have that space wherein I don't have to think about anything, but even though I do, I don't want to become an empty space which is who I am at the moment. My thoughts went to a halt when I heard a loud bang from a harshly closed door and when I traced as to where it came from I saw a young lady wearing a light, white cocktail dress with hair so soft as t

Instead, the air carried rain, damp earth, and fresh flowers. Astrid frowned. "Tell me I'm not the only one smelling that." "No," Rosalie said. "I thought I'd imagined it." Lucien breathed it in slowly. "It smells like a forest after a storm." Astrid looked around at the others before turning to the Keeper. "We're still underground." "We are." "Then how is that possible?" "Some places in Orathyn were built to preserve more than buildings." "What does that mean?" "You'll understand when you see them."

Let the words settle. "Oracle was designed to predict human behavior. To identify threats before they emerged. To create a world where violence and betrayal could be anticipated and prevented. But I didn't build it alone. My doctoral advisor—a man named Aris Thorne—provided the theoretical framework. He shaped my research. He directed my focus. And when Oracle was complete, he disappeared." I watched the monitor. Watched the numbers tick up in the corner—viewership growing by the second. Thousands. Millions.

I snapped my head towards him as he started inching in my direction. "My love, it's not what it looks like, let me explain." "It had better be a very good explanation", I said. My flames licked up my body ready at any minute to defend me. He tried to reach out to me, but the flames roared harder, and he stepped back. "I'm waiting." The woman stepped forward with her hands raised to let me know she wasn't a threat and pulled down the top corner of her shirt, revealing her orange bond mark. "My name is Ophelia and I work with Rainn. We have a crew of hunters that collaborate. My mate is here as well. We just got back from the beach. I had to get into the ocean for a while. Curse of being a wat

Something about the old woman had always been eerily comforting. She moved to another picture, and it was a woman captured unaware. A tinge of nervousness found its way to her chest. This woman, Oriana Pereira, her mother, as far as her memory could reach, was one of the prettiest, most wholehearted, but shortest-lived people to walk the earth. All her memories of the woman were of her being constantly tired but still trying her best to live, to do something, and to look happy, but you could see it in her eyes that she wasn't doing well.

she muttered, snatching them up. Her fingers fumbled as she straightened them out, forcing herself to breathe through the panic clawing up her chest. She jammed one into the lock on the side door and twisted. She tried to keep her fingers steady, but they trembled from the adrenaline rushing through her veins. It felt like an eternity before she heard a click. Slowly, the door creaked open. She didn't waste another second before she slipped inside and froze. Orion sat at the centre of the room, chained to a metal chair bolted to the ground. His head hung low, his hair damp with sweat that glistened on his skin under the harsh fluorescent lights.

THERON “Not a single fucking word from you, not one. I swear by the moon goddess I’ll…” “You’ve got a thing for her? Fuck, Theron. She’s… well… she’s… you really are twice her age.” He blurted out before bursting into a dark, sarcastic, haunting laughter. Was he trying to get at me? I couldn’t tell, but Orrion never spat a lie. “Had her brother fill her forms for her. She’s twenty two. And… she’s my niece.” That had shut Orrion up real fast. He stood back straight, eyes on me like I had just blurted out the secret of the year.