Professor Novels & Stories

Their world was changing, and Aaron was excited about the prospects of the future. He pushed open the office door and was welcomed by the familiar voice of Mrs. Carminati, Mr. and Mrs. Findley’s receptionist. “Good afternoon, Aaron,” she said with a warm smile. She was a human, in her mid-thirties, but her parents had been Hunters, so she knew about the secrets of the Ternion. “Have a seat and I’ll let them know you’re here.” “Thank you,” he said, dropping into a chair in the small waiting area. He tapped his fingers on the armrest, waiting, wondering what this might be about as Mrs. Carminati made the call to let Jordan know Aaron was waiting.

Professor Kingsley, sitting at his desk off to the side, was so red he looked like he was about to burst, jowls trembling with fury. “Cassidy Knox,” the professor said, slowly rising from his seat, “do you care to explain yourself?”

I smiled at Kenji who was at his ends wit. “Don't even think about sleeping,” he glared at me. The man—Professor Neven Karlsson—reached the lectern and opened a folder. "Good morning," he said. That deep, smooth lilt made my skin feel prickly. "I am Professor Neven Karlsson. I’ve spent the morning reviewing the roster for this department. Let’s see who we have." He started calling names. He seemed detached, bored even, until he reached a specific line on the paper.

His shoulders are broad, his dark hair is perfectly messy and his eyes scanned the students once before he spoke. "Professor Harlan, thank you for the warm-up," he said with his deep and smooth voice. "I'm Professor Adrian Knight. I'll be taking over this Literature course for the rest of the semester." Whispers spread across the hall and Juliet stared. He looked too young to be a full professor, maybe early thirties, but his presence filled the room. He set his bag on the desk and turned to the class. "Forbidden love," he continued, picking up right where they left off. "The kind that destroys ca

A perk for being a good teacher, I guess. Outside the mafia world, I am Professor Quinn. I use my middle name and there are bickering that I am Matteo Scarpelli, or a doppelganger. No one has ever dared ask me openly because they fear I might cut them into pieces and through their dismembered parts away where they will never be found. Well, my only requirement to the school before accepting this job is that my professional life be kept aside from my several businesses. Stanbury accepted my terms and that's how I became a History Professor in their establishment, this year being my fifth year with them.

Two figures stepped onto the dais. The Department Head, Professor Feliz, a woman with iron-gray hair and eyes that could peel paint, stood with terrifying stillness. Beside her was our assigned Academic Advisor — a striking figure with shimmering pastel-pink hair and a silk vest tailored to perfection. He beamed at us, his energy a bright, friendly contrast to the gravity of the room.

NOAH’S POV I sat in the back row of the lecture hall, as I always do, with my hoodie pulled low and my glasses slipping down my nose as I pretended to take notes. The room smelled like old books and coffee, but all I could think about was Dr. Alexander Elliott, who was pacing the front like he owned the whole place. And he might have. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with salt-and-pepper hair that caught the light above him and grey eyes that were sharp enough to cut glass. His voice was low and slow,

“Please, join us.” “I’d love to, Your Highness, but the wife has me running all over the place,” he responded with a slight smile. Wow. I was surprised his face didn’t crack. When I first saw him, he seemed so serious all the time. His expression was extremely hard that it looked like it hurt him to smile. Jarren placed his hand on my leg and squeezed it lightly. “Well, it was good seeing you,” he stated, his eyes on Judge Crete.” “You all as well.” The judge stated, with a bow, before leaving.

“Don’t.” I wish she could talk to me about it, but we’re in the classroom, and the professor might arrive at any time. But, just as I anticipated, a loud, clearing throat resounds across the classroom. Everyone shuts their mouths, followed by a deadly silence. Our attention gets drawn to the front, where a sophisticated, sexy, and attractive young professor in a black shirt and pants stands by the grand piano. He now has a pair of black-framed glasses on. The most awaited man has finally arrived. “Good morning. I’m Professor Julian Sebastian...”

Mom frowned at the elderly man approaching them. "Who are you?" Uncle Donald's expression changed instantly. His eyes widened in shock. "That's Professor Judas Riche, the chancellor of Oldingham University!" Professor Riche didn't spare him a glance. His eyes were locked on the operating room doors. "I'm not just the chancellor," he said. "I'm also the head of the department he applied to." He paused before adding firmly, "And he will be the last student I personally take under my wing."