Samantha Prescott Novels & Stories

It seemed a bad sign, Samantha requesting this meeting, especially when she’d indicated that she didn’t want him to bring Landon. The door opened and Samantha shuffled in. She wasn’t handcuffed or shackled, but the neon orange jumpsuit dwarfed her. No doubt Samantha Johnston was a beautiful girl—Brandt still had a hard time thinking of her as a woman. She had milk pale skin and dark brown, almost black hair. But her eyes were the palest shade of blue he’d ever seen. Her eastern European heritage was evident in her facial bone structure. With her slight frame, she looked like a good, stiff wind would knock her over. Striking as she was, she just looked so damn…young. Samantha slid into the ch

Zita said to them. "Where is her mother? Has she mysteriously fallen ill?" Fiona said mockingly. Tracey sniggered. "I'm right here." A voice said boldly from the staircase. All eyes were at that direction-the staircase. Rebecca was at the landing, close to a step and held the handrail. Her curly hair fell on her shoulder; her dress was an off-the-shoulder dress with three steps designed on it. The jewel on her pendant glinted as the light from bulb reflected on it. Fiona rolled her eyes when she saw her.

I chewed on my salad without looking up, letting Samantha shove the camera right in my face. Samantha grew bolder when I didn't react. "And hey, aren't you all curious how she got that BMW 5 Series?" she purred at the camera. "She's just a regular employee—where's all that money coming from?" "I heard…" she winked conspiratorially, "different luxury cars pick her up from work all the time." The chat exploded. [Oh, so she's an escort.]

MASON I leaned against my car, arms folded, trying hard to look casual. Chill. Detached. But my eyes? They had a mind of their own. They were locked on the back seat of Macey’s car. I didn’t even blink as the door opened, and Samantha stepped out like slow-motion was made for her. That dress. Red. Short. Silk. Wrapped around her like it was hand-stitched by the devil. I didn’t recognize it. It was new.

She answered. Chantelle, I need you to get ready for the party. "Don't tell me you've forgotten that today's is Damien birthday". Rosemary said. "No ma'ma I can't forget" . Chantelle said. We're expecting visitors in a few hours, and there's a lot to do." Chantelle looks up from the floor, her hands covered in soap suds. "What do you need me to do?" she asks. Her aunty continues, "You need to vacuum the living room, mop the kitchen floor, and set the table for dinner. " I believe you can handle that cause you've been doing it for years now". Rosemary said. I think the work will be much for me, please I'll be needing help. Chantelle said. "Will you shut it". Rosemary said. We've been feeding,

It's Samantha's first day of training as Tristan's secretary. Before going out of her room she looks at the large mirror in front of her as she fixed up the collar of her white blouse, smoothing it down until it's almost perfect before tying up her hair and pulling it back into a high ponytail. The blonde ends are neatly tucked behind her ears. "You can do it, Sam. It's one of your dream to have a brother right? You have it now, don't ruin the chance..."

I'm a little bit nervous because of the silent pouring the entire time while all we does is stare at each other like little trump. ""Can I ask, what's' your name?"" I politely asked. She smile to me and sway her long hair to her sliding ears. ""I'm Samantha, why don't you remember me?"" she laugh a bit. I look at her full body, she's wearing a white crop top with a black jacket. With a long pants and a rubber shoes like a gangster but she's definitely cool and like a fashion model. ""Wait, I think I remember you. Are you with the cops?""

Samantha Peterson, Head Cheerleader, Queen of sluts, Master of foul words and daughter of the Law representative of our distinguished school. "Hey... Look who just walked in Ugly and the minions" AJ mocked. "Hello Peterson" I greeted coldly. "Anderson" She replied with the same cold shoulder. "Didn't think you'd make it to senior year, given the airbag you call a brain still functioned, or did you seduce the entire Exam committee this time" I said as my friends oohed behind me. "Well I guess you've finally taken notice of what killer features I have, unlike some people" Samantha said in her cheer uniform that was so short, it had to be illegal.

Samantha was next to him, yawning as they carried on with their conversation. "Sir, I need to speak with you. It's urgent." I said to Sebastian, ignoring Samantha's glare. "Leslie! Can't even say hi to your sister?" Samantha asked, reaching for a hug. She looked as if she had completely forgotten everything that had happened in Scotland, plus anything before that. "Right, sorry." I gave her a quick hug before giving the woman in front of us an apologetic smile. "My apologies Miss..." "-Kameron Garcia." She shook my hand.

“Oh, we don’t know who yet, but it’s definitely going to be a rich man’s daughter, right Bettie?” “Of course. That’s what always happens in the end. The rich marry the rich, and they get richer.” “I… I need to go.” “Already? I thought you might want to chill with us for a while,” Leah said, her tone disappointed. “Sorry, I have work to do.” Samantha forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and exited the kitchen, forgetting the tea she came for. Back in her office, Samantha searched her handbag for her phone. Seeing no calls or message notifications, she let out a sigh of relief. She tossed her phone aside, opened her MacBook, and saw the trending topic on her browser.