Ramona Tamburello Novels & Stories

Don Romano says, tilting his head up to look at me. I blow out a breath as the name lands on me. Clarissa. Not Annalissa. Never me. I smile the way I’ve practiced and grab a seat next to him. Dante sits next to the young lady. They look a lot alike except she has curly hair with blonde highlights, and perfect skin. She’s his younger sister, Ornella Romano. I’ve only ever seen her on a magazine cover when she appeared on Forbes top ten special athletes spotlight. Don Romano warms up to me in minutes.

Her curly Havana-brown hair bounces as she seductively walks towards the stage where the other candidates who passed were. Every second that passed, Tamara’s chance of being in the top six candidates slowly crumbled down the floor. Her heart sluggishly stooped down, and she let out a deep sigh. “Fourthly, Miss Amabella Carlen from the Moon Stone Pack of the Western Side.” Aralan announced as she held her gaze towards the girl with golden blonde hair. Her skin was tanned, and she’s a quietly toned and voluptuous woman. Her maroon wrap dress fits perfectly on her, emphasizing her hourglass-shaped body.

Chander's sudden interruption brought her back. "Miss Hila, let me help you take care of the other eleven." She didn't feel light headed or drunk anymore. "Why would you help me? You are in no position to gain anything from their deaths and if you are, just shut it and consider yourself lucky that your competition just got lower." She took off the robe and was left covered by a tiny sleeveless navy blue dress that barely covered even half her thighs. The pair of linen dolphin shorts of the same color loosely swayed as she moved towards him.

“Now, princess, who are you?” “My name is Ramona. You can call me Mona. I’m supposed to be the Luna to the future Alpha King, but some horrible nobody came in and stole my title. I’m the right hand of the Alpha King’s son. And who are you, exactly?” She looked him up and down with a sneer. “My name is Ryan. I’m the Rogue Alpha, but you knew that part. These are my seers. They will perform the rite to ensure your integrity…well, your integrity as far as I’m concerned. Clearly, it’s lacking where your Alpha matters.”

My mind snapped back to reality and I shoved myself off of him, cheeks red hot with embarrassment. “S-sorry” I said, wringing my hands together before looking him in the eyes. “Thank you, truly. You saved my life back there…?” “Elliot. Elliot Bishop, but you can just call me Eli" he stuck his hand out. “Tamara Jones” I firmly shake his surprisingly soft hands. “Tamara. That’s a pretty name.” “Well Eli, it’s a very fine pleasure to meet you. That was a very brave thing for you to do. How did you get us out, by the way?” The fuzzy memory of him potentially jumping off the cliff flashed in my mind.

We barely met two weeks ago, and now she was this person I didn’t want to see come to any harm. I looked up at the TV screen, which sprang to life showing a frenzy in the arena. The roar of the crowd echoed through the speakers, a tidal wave that vibrated in the locker room. Tamara climbed into the octagon, her joggers baggy but her body taut, septum ring glinting in the spotlights as a dare. Her opponent from Moon River pack, Roman Winston, was a tank of muscle—wide shoulders and no neck, buzz-cut head, narrow focus eyes. He bounced on his toes, cracking his knuckles that seemed capable of tearing stone.

As she sniffled and wiped the tears from her eyes, Norah turned from comforting her and gave me a knowing look. Yesterday I had promised her I’d take a turn, and I was sorely regretting it. “Einar, I knew I recognized that last name.” A man with a buzzed head and a rose tattoo trailing up his neck snapped his fingers. He’d been one of the first to speak and introduced himself as Ramone. “You’re Luna Lilac, right? I knew I recognized that hair of yours.” All eyes fell on me. The walls quivered and my throat tightened. I took a deep breath and held it in the way Norah had instructed me.

"Scarlett." ******

Probably some guy gave her a fake number in the bar. "I know what it is. But who are you?" She again asks me anxiously. "I am secretary of the President of the Damison Group. My name is Ethan Stone." I reply to her irritatingly, as she is wasting my time. I need to go home and take a lavender bath with my rubber ducks.

Presley tilted her head sideways to whisper at Cruz, “what the fuck happened to her? She’s usually so well put together, even for a crazy lady.” “She smells bad too,” the assistant muttered as she struggled to get away from Ramona. “I haven’t been able to shower!” Ramona screamed at the trio. “I needed to hitch a ride with a trucker from the program in Toronto and he only made a couple of stops.” “Girl you look bad,” Presley commented. “Your hair.” She made a face of revulsion as she looked at it. Ramona scratched her head. “Did the guy you were traveling with have lice?”