Sister From Another Mister Novels & Stories

Two senior sentries from the border guard hovered in the shadows behind him, their hands resting cautiously on the hilts of their sidearms. "I hear the whispers sweeping through the lower barracks," my uncle spat, his grey eyes cutting straight to me, burning with betrayal. "You are deliberately planning to walk straight into Ferguson territory, unescorted, alone, barely thirty-six hours after their bastards torched my sister's peace banner on the ridge."

Whispering into the phone, Zak asks, “What does your sister look like? What’s her name?” “Blonde. Slightly taller than me. A ton of expertly applied make-up. Stepford Wives clothing. Perfect manicure. Snooty, holier-than-thou expression on her face. Her name’s Celeste.” Citra does not sound happy at all to have to deal with her sister. Hakeem scoffs with laughter in the link. Described to a “t.” Take it she and her sister don’t really get along.

He normally reported news on my companies but never used “REAL TOUGH.” “Your woman just had an accident,” he let out, his statement seemed ambiguous and confusing, getting me lost. “Which woman are you talking about? Doctor Marilyn? Ahh Damn it!!!” I aggressively asked, holding my face in the air in disappointment. “The lady who left here a few hours ago in a Lincoln Navigator,” he spewed out. “My sister!!! She’s my stepsister!! Oh no!!!” I screamed and rested a fist on the wall and next, my head, “Don’t tell me she did…not…make…it!” I desperately asked Antonio, expecting to hear a positive answer no matter what!

“Who is your sister?” “Mastermind, I`ve seen you on T.V, I`ve heard rumours. Please give me my sister, I`ll work for you if I have to. My sister.” He was starting to cry. “You`ll work for me?” “Yes, just give me back my sister.” “Who are you?” “They call me "The Breaker". There is nothing I can`t break into no matter how well is encrypted.” “I think I can help you find your sister then.” I said, “She`s a Receptionist, right?”

"Agatha, correct me if I'm wrong. But last time you told me you now have a sister, right? And that today is her first day in fourth-year junior high?" Agatha opened her eyes gently and blinked at Misty's question. It only came upon her today. She was correct. Her sister Amanda, who she presented to people as a cousin and a mountain landslide survivor from a village in the Cotton Province, was now enrolled in their school. Since both of them no longer have any remaining relatives, they would be tending to and caring for each other from now on. She enrolled this new sister of her in her school so that it would be easier for her to monitor her and help out when necessary.

I didn't chase the girl, she fucking came to me, and I can remember she's a fucking adult. Mister Hulk here no longer controls his anger after those words, and he pushes the girl off his lap, moving towards me with quick strides before wrapping his hand around my collar. "Spread her legs? You knew she was my fucking sister, dude! And you fucking stick that thing inside her! What the fuck was up with that?"

I look down at her. "What's wrong?" I ask. "Dean, I miss you, a lot. And it feels wrong to considering that you quickly moved on with my sister. But it shouldn't. I loved you, Dean. Now everyone's looking at me like I've been the idiot the whole time. It's totally ruined my reputation!" She lets out.

I was lying back on the hospital bed, resting with my eyes closed, when I heard an exaggerated cheer from outside! "Dr. Miller brought his fiancée to shower us with sweetness!" "Dr. Miller, you’re killing us single folk with this PDA!" "Wow, his fiancée is even more beautiful in person! Dr. Miller’s got some luck." I opened my eyes, listening to the voices outside, feeling a wave of irony. I bet they had no idea that this so-called fiancée was just a stand-in, right? Whatever, though. I had already broken up with James. It was not like I had any right to claim that spot anymore.

He stormed into my office, slapped me hard across the face. The crack echoed like thunder. “The family doesn’t need a son who falls apart over a mistress,” he spat. “She was your foster sister, for Christ’s sake. Do you understand the scandal you’ve already caused? Pull yourself together, or I’ll make sure you regret it.” Mistress. Foster sister. For one wild second, I wanted to tell him she wasn’t my sister, she was my sin, my salvation. The words tangled in my gut, choking me. Wrong, forbidden, shameful—and yet the only thing that had ever felt real.

Luna felt a little difficult and didn’t respond her. Amy Waltson said again, "In the past few years, when I was abroad, the person who called me the most was the second sister in law. When I was in a bad mood, it was also the second sisterin law who comforte me. Whenever I said I was homesick, When the second and third brothers refused to let me come back, the second sister-in-law who flew to the United States to visit me specially.