Sarah Rafferty Younger Novels & Stories

"Even I have limits, dude." Sarah had been handed the responsibility of looking after her family at 17. It hadn't been easy on her. Mike didn't know how she'd handled it. There was a great strength in her, and also a great caring. She finished raising him and his sisters, though Danni would never admit it. She was shorter than him, thin and was usually cleaning something.

Before she could figure out what Rafferty was saying, he was disconnected. Summer looked at her phone warily and was lost in her own thoughts for a long time. Rafferty went missing during his eighteenth birthday. No one was able to find him ever since then. Alaric had been looking for him for ten years, and he did not really give up until he disappeared. So, it turned out that Rafferty was still alive. He had disappeared for ten years… ten long years.

"Why wouldn't I, anyway? It's his mate's grandfather that passed." Margaret's eyes lit up with that particular gleam mothers got when discussing their children's romantic prospects. "This is my daughter Sarah," she said, pushing the girl forward slightly. "She couldn't come to your party because she wasn't of age. But if you're throwing another debutante for the youngstars next year, she'll be there." I looked at the girl properly. She was pretty enough, I supposed. Soft brown hair, clear skin, the kind of innocent face that made men want to protect and possess in equal measure. She might do nicely for my backup plans.

she mumbled, caressing the cheek where she had slapped him earlier. “I know,” Raf whispered softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. “Your birthday is almost two weeks away. Excited?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips. “Because when you turn twenty, you’re going to get your fairy.” Saraya’s eyes sparkled immediately, twinkling with excitement. Raf mentally chuckled, along with the others. They had all noticed how easily she could shift her focus from sadness to happiness—a blessing in disguise, as she never stayed trapped in her own sorrow.

It was just a soft welcome, but I rolled my eyes knowing what was going to happen. Sarah was 20 years old but she was still childish, especially around me. It was her personality and cheery nature due to which people actually questioned her and asked her to be more mature, but she never cared. But I could see that my baby sister got a little conscious when she first saw my wife.

Katy said crossing her arms over her chest. She wasn’t wrong, but it’s her fault that my image has even been tainted. "Really, you want to test that theory?” I asked as I pulled out my phone. I texted multiple people before I finally got a few names for managers. I immediately noticed one name in particular, Sarah. I dialed Sarah’s number and waited patiently for her to answer. Sarah was one of the younger agents these days, being only twenty-three, but rumor has it that she’s one of the best you could get.

She gestured vaguely at herself, like that explained everything. "It's okay. Really," I assured her. "You don't have to thank me for that." "I'm Sarah, by the way," she said, stretching out her hand far and fast for me to shake. It was adorable. So obviously, I took the offered hand, returning her shy smile, “Sarah, huh? Nice to meet you.” “Yup, that’s me. Sarah Mitchell. I'm a junior, so it’s my third-year suffering through Westbrook's special brand of hell." She laughed, through it had a sad tinge to it.

I could see her shoes beneath the table, and they looked impossible to walk on, the heels were so tall and narrow. Turning the other way, Mage Jaye continued. “This is Sarah Swan.” The youngest of the members, I thought, she had blonde hair not much darker than mine, red lipstick, and dazzling green eyes. She looked like she might be in her early thirties. She wore a navy blue shirt with a fluffy collar and necktie around it, and a golden skirt I could see beneath the table.

Philip Sarah, my ex-wife, is now entangled with Bronn Martin. From Amir Benner to a computer software developer, she seems to have a penchant for wealthy men, a fact that stirs a deep-seated fury within me. She still retains a youthful allure, with her sophisticated, wavy brown hair cascading down her back. It struck me that she is now twenty-three, no longer the young teenager who once stood beside me in marriage. Her skin seemed to radiate under the gentle washroom lighting, and she was draped in a seductive dark dress that tempted sinful thoughts.

Phedra Elizabeth. [...] "How's her background information?" [Sarah Frank - 38 years old, the father is a cleaner, the mother is a street vendor. Since childhood, he lived in poverty, so he knew how to hire, sew, cook, and also do small businesses.] "She's already 38 years old? What's the secret to making her so young and beautiful? Looking back at me... But her family background is like this... Then it's good to have three male leads." "What's her personality like?"