Series 1 Episode 2 Novels & Stories

"Where's the parcel?" Aaron stopped looking at Emily and focused all his attention on the creepy guy with the gun. Dean and Aaron were doing a little dance, both watching for the other to make the first move as they took cautious steps through the room. "What's he talking about, Em?" "I don't know," said Emily. As the cautious steps around the room continued, his shoes came up against something. "Okay, dead guy. Did you ice the dude Em? Is that why prince charming over here is so ticked off?"

"Next, They made their way to the beach. In a place where it never gets dark and the flow of life never runs out leader. If I am giving a chance to go back in mortal world to be with your dear wife and daughter THE END

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Eager. "He wants the next episode," Haley reported, her pink-lit eyes half-closed, her off-key humming weaving the Lullaby's ancient melody between whispered translations of the First Dreamer's emotional state. "He really wants the next episode, Jack. Like, cosmically wants it." "Aaliyah," Jack transmitted from his position against the crystallized wall, his burned hands wrapped in gauze, his dead right gauntlet discarded, his left gauntlet barely glowing. "Queue Season Three, Episode Eight."

Unable to control himself, Vittorio roared. "Mind your own damn business!" "I don't want to manage your life." Serena said coldly, having never seen him look so unhinged. "But you need to know whatever happens to you, you brought it on yourself." With that, she got back into her car. Vittorio lunged forward, grabbing her arm. "Where is Isabella? You haven't told me where she is!" "She's certainly not in that home you refuse to return to." Serena shook him off and slammed the car door shut. Only after her taillights disappeared did Vittorio snap back to reality. He sprinted back into the house and snatched his car keys from the table.

They love drinking alcohol at night because it is good but they curse it when the morning comes because of the hangover that it gives them. Damn this hangover! I will not drink that much next time! I don’t want to feel this awful again in the morning. I took a deep breath and massaged my temple. But I immediately opened my eyes when I realized that I didn’t remember how I got home. The last thing I remember is when me, Cheya, and Maya were sitting quietly at our table. The twins are leaning on my shoulder and fall asleep while we are waiting for Andrel to come back. I don’t remember anything after that.

When he saw me he smiled at me and padded the couch, showing me to sit down next to him "Hey what are you watching," I ask him as I sat down "I'm watching the 100" "Wait really?? I love this series; I only watched it until season 2 though" "Well then you're just in time, I'm at the last episode of Season 2 we can watch season 3 together"

He quickly straddled Eric and started throwing punches left and right. It looked so painful that I felt my own face twinge. Eric finally stopped fighting back, too tired to resist, and that's when the punches stopped. "Scram!" Eric got up, wobbling, and looked at me. "Wendy, you've loved me since high school. Was that all just a lie? Can you really stand there and watch him destroy my company?"

They stared at each other, breathless. A past neither of them fully remembered had just cracked open between them. From his office across the building, Dorian watched the two of them on the security feed. He clicked his earpiece. “They’ve made contact,” he said. A pause. Then a voice replied: “Then initiate Phase Two. It’s time he remembers who he really is.” SERA “You’re Mara.” The way Adrian said it made her skin prickle. Not because it was wrong but because it was too right.

Okay. So. I didn’t die. I just had coffee with Ethan Quan and didn’t choke, faint, or confess my love while crying into a napkin. That alone is worth a trophy. Or a plaque. Or a full-blown N*****x miniseries titled Girl, Calm Down. As soon as I get back to the Carrington estate, I power-walk to my room like I’ve just shoplifted God and slam the door shut behind me. Ten seconds later, I scream into my pillow.