Samantha Downing Books Novels & Stories

Sammy promised to be in half an hour and rushed to the bus stop. The store greeted her with her favorite smell of new books. Sammy thought with regret that she hadn't been here for a long time, and she really liked to read. But after that ill-fated quest, thoughts and feelings did not allow me to be distracted by reading, and even during my illness, an attempt to pick up a book failed. Trying her best not to fall back into the abyss of thinking about Travis, Samantha went to her mother. Teresa smiled happily at her, but looked tired.

“Say one more thing about her and I swear I’ll end you right here. I’ll bury every lie you’ve ever told. Every secret. You want me to name them one by one?” His grin twitched. At this point, different phones were already up. The people who were pretending not to watch weren’t even pretending anymore. “You think anyone’s gonna take her side?” He threw a hand toward me. “She’s a joke. Samantha Cander—the gold-digging whore who slept with multiple men to make money and became the talk of the town. How exhausting that must be.” My chest was tight. My heart was at this point louder than the music. But I gave him nothing.

she admitted. His look of confusion was understandable. "Sam and Samantha," she said, looking down and chuckling in sad resignation. "Pastor Dickhead and his whore wife talked to me about it a few times," she said. "Samantha is the girl I was. She was the one that went to church and did all the right things. She was a good girl. But Sam?" she asked, giving him an intense look. "Sam is a bad girl. Sam's the type of girl that won't say no," she said, giving him a mischievous grin.

I added, my voice firm now, “those boys are Grahams. They belong to me. You have no connection to them.” His expression faltered, then I turned to Sharon. “You could have continued pretending,” I said coldly. “But now you’ve shown exactly who you are.” “No, Damon…” she rushed forward. “It’s not what you think…” “Then what do you think he thinks?” A voice came from behind us. We all turned. Sophia’s breath hitched. “Sam…?” The same Samantha she told me would be visiting Stornoway? She walked in like she had been waiting for this exact moment. And beside her was detective Brownlow.

Or perhaps… something far less subtle. Her fingers trailed across the letter again. Fine, Mother. You want me to move faster? Then faster it shall be. By the time night fell, Samantha was already plotting the first of many steps to hasten her plans into motion. And in the shadows of her ambition, the news of Damian’s heir was no longer a celebration—it was a countdown. ---

Pov samantha Samantha’s Final Testament: The Unbroken Vow (Samantha’s Voice) I used to measure my life in pages t e chapters I wrote for others, the hidden chapters I lived for myself, and the explosive, terrifying chapters Benjamin and I wrote together. I stopped measuring the day our son, Sterling, drew his first, impossible breath in that filthy, victorious alleyway. Since then, my life has been measured not in time, but in truth.

Her fingers trailed down my chest, warm and soft and way too confident for a girl who’d just been wrapped around me like a sleep-deprived koala. I grabbed her wrist. “Samantha.” “What?” she asked, all innocent. “I’m just saying good morning.” “This is not how people say good morning.” “It is now.” She shifted her body over mine, slow and teasing. “Besides, I was hungry.” “Hungry,” I repeated, struggling to keep my voice level. She kissed the side of my neck. “Starving, actually.” “Sam—” She moved down. Beneath the covers. Warmth trailing behind her.

Samantha muttered, walking over to the stairs, not wanting to discuss anything with her sister. "Samantha, is anything wrong?" Lady Jennifer inquired, seeing Samantha's face appeared gloomy, like she had gotten into a fight. Samantha stopped at the staircase, shaking her head and replied, "I'm fine, Mom. Let me go in and freshen up first." "Okay, dear," Lady Jennifer replied, watching Samantha retreat to her room. "Did Sama tell you what really happened between her and Damian the previous night? She had been gloomy since she came home, after going to see him the previous day?" Lady Jennifer queried, and Alicia rose from the couch and moved over to the dining table to have her seat.

Her voice was smooth, dripping with something I couldn’t quite place yet. I tilted my head, feigning curiosity. “That’s what they call me.” She chuckled, eyes scanning me from head to toe. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” I arched a brow. “Oh? Can’t say the same about you.” “Sam.” She extended a perfectly manicured hand, her nails painted deep red. “Samantha Brooks.” I didn’t shake her hand. Instead, I folded my arms across my chest, keeping my expression unreadable. “Cool. Should I be flattered you’ve heard about me, or should I be worried?”

Samantha also ate a little from his breakfast because she wasn't planning on going downstairs again. Once she'd finished feeding him, Damian tried to take a sip of his black coffee but Samantha took it away and replaced it with a glass of water.. “ There's absolutely no way I'm letting you in on some coffee…Why are you overworking yourself? “ Samantha frowned as she spoke but he simply smiled without saying a word and took the glass of water without hesitation. “ I'm sorry I still have a lot of unfinished business.” Damian calmly said but Samantha wasn't planning on listening to him as she stood up and dragged him along..