Skeleton Hand Holding Something Novels & Stories

It's Family Day at my daughter, Hannah Neel's, preschool, but my wife, Samantha Miller, says she has to work and tells both Hannah and me not to go. Seeing the disappointment on Hannah's face breaks my heart, so I bring her to school anyway. As soon as we step through the gates, I see Samantha. She's holding her childhood friend—Oscar Barnett's—hand, with a little boy clutching her other. The three of them look like a perfect family, laughing and chatting, as if they belong together. When Samantha sees us, her smile fades, and she lets go of Oscar's hand. "Zach, it's not what you think. Oscar's raising his son alone. Today's his fifth birthday, and he just wanted to give him a little taste of a mother's love," she says quickly. I study her for a moment, then kneel and gently take Hannah's hand in mine. "Sweetheart, say hello to the lady."

One week before our marking ceremony, my Alpha Mate, Corey Black, looks me straight in the eye and says something unbelievable, "I want to have a pup with my long-time friend Willow." At first, I assume it's a terrible joke, but I see determination in his serious expression. I suppress the churning feeling in my stomach and ask him why. He sighs, his gaze gentle as if he's soothing an unreasonable child. "Willow's old Beta father is dying. His only dying wish is to see Willow have a pup. We're doing it through IVF, so it won't hurt our relationship. "Her father devoted his entire life to the pack. You wouldn't refuse to fulfill even his dying wish, would you? You wouldn't be that cruel, right?" I don't know how to respond. He speaks as if not letting my fated mate have a pup with another woman is selfish. Later, when I go to visit the gravely ill old Beta, Corey is holding Willow Lester in his arms. His hand gently strokes her hair as he lets her sob against his chest. The moment our eyes meet, pain strikes my very soul. My wolf lets out a desperate howl of anguish. I stumble away, only to receive a text from him on the day of our marking ceremony. "Honey, Willow and I are undergoing the IVF procedure. Let's postpone the ceremony for now." I stare blankly at those words, my hand unconsciously moving to my still-flat stomach. Since he wants so badly to have a pup with another woman, I will grant his wish and disappear with my pup.

I was just a student who couldn't afford tuition. For five years, I was also the secret lover of Mafia Don Dante Costello. Publicly, I was his personal art restorer. In private, he spent his nights making me his, holding me close and kissing me breathless. Then his family arranged his engagement. To Isabella Rossi. A princess from a rival family. At their engagement party, Isabella stabbed the back of my hand with a shard of broken glass. He made me apologize. To her. For making a scene. Fighting back tears, I bowed my head to Isabella. When Isabella lost a bet and had to play Russian Roulette—one bullet, six chambers—he made me take her place. My hand shook as I raised the gun to my head. "You saved my life once," I told him. "Now you can have it back." The moment I vanished from his world, the ruthless Mafia Don who had everything under control...completely lost his mind.

God is always fair, but the world is never fair. Sometimes to defeat bad people, you must become a bad one yourself. His bloody hands rested on his knees which were spread apart. His head was bent and he looked perfect for the job. I just offered him my hand."I don't need your help. I can get up on my own."I raised an eyebrow at him and connected my hand with his. I attempted to pull him up. But, he didn't budge. I tried again, but no luck. This time, he growled. "Stop it and get lost. Leave me alone." He pointed his finger at me. I immediately caught hold of the finger and attempted to snap it, but he was quicker than me. He caught my hand which was holding his finger and twisted it so that my arm was strangling my own neck and I was pressed against his chest. We broke into a fight and in the end, we both were breathless and I was straddling him.

When I was eight months pregnant, I received an anonymous email. The attachment was a security camera recording. In a dimly lit VIP booth at a bar, my husband — a vampire who had lived for three hundred years — was holding a human woman in his arms, kissing her. At the end of the video, the woman smiled and asked him, "Adrian, do you really love me?" Adrian's voice was low. "Of course." "Even though you're human, I'll make you the happiest vampire bride in the world." He had said those exact words to me ten years ago. In that moment, my hand rested on my belly. The baby kicked once. As if reminding me. It was time to wake up.

After following my grandfather abroad for five years of training, he finally entrusted me with the family authority—something he had given me with complete satisfaction. But my stepmother and my three younger stepbrothers were anything but pleased. Ever since I returned home, they had been blasting those ridiculous "real heiress versus fake heiress" dramas throughout the house, day after day. Sometimes openly, sometimes in veiled remarks, they hinted that I didn't resemble my father at all. On the day of my twentieth birthday—my official debut before the public—they even brought in a complete stranger and tried to brand me as the impostor. My stepmother looked at me, the corner of her lips curling in disdain. "Where did this counterfeit come from? Even if you're wearing a stolen gown, you can't hide that cheap, shabby air about you." My three younger stepbrothers shoved me to the ground, shielding the girl beside them—the one wearing my family's heirloom necklace. "We only have one sister, and that's Camellia! Wherever you came from, go back there!" In an instant, the guests' mocking gazes all converged on me. And in the very next second, I stepped forward and slapped my stepmother across the face. "If anyone should be leaving, it's you. Take a good look at what this is!" Then, the moment they saw what I was holding in my hand, the entire room fell into stunned silence.

"I am not foolish. I AM NOT FUCKING FOOLISH!" He yelled, picking her up by her hand. "Get out of my house. I no longer love you. I have found a replacement for you and we will get married as soon as possible" He tossed her outside the house. "Antonio please. Listen to me, I beg you. Where do you expect me to go from here? You know my parents... Just please" Melissa crawled to his feet once more, ignoring the bruise she had on her knee. Too bad, Antonio's mind was made up. **** She striked back. Stronger than before. Melissa was forcefully thrown out of her husband's house for something she didn't do. Melissa never knew a day would come where she would get to be on top of her husband, as she was currently holding a top position in her husband's company. Maybe Karma is a b*tch after all. Antonio, on the other hand had realized his mistake and would stop at nothing until he got her back in his arms. He didn't care if she was the boss over him, all he wanted was his wife back but it wasn't that simple. It was almost impossible. Especially when the dark secrets and truths began to explode one by one.

Twenty-three years old Anna Mackenzie looks like a normal young woman in the city of New York, but beneath her surface is a scared broken girl with a dreadful past she must keep hidden; even as the smell of chaos and doom tries to drown her. One night in her sorry attempt to get away from it, she bumps into Caden Gallagher, playboy and the blunt heir to Gallagher's gallery who has his skeleton hidden in his closets, and who eventually becomes her boss. Their hatred and inability to stand each other don't create a barrier to work. An inconvenient event leads to a temporary alliance that blooms into friendship and later love. But the past comes knocking on both their doors and it doesn't take them long to realize that was coming to knock them down.

*Daily updates*She felt as if she were floating. Her eyes were closed, and everything about her felt soft, a luxuriating fluffiness like the satin down comforter her grandma used to have. She thought she must have been sleeping. There was a not-unpleasant heaviness to her limbs, like the time she could finally sit down after standing and walking in the market for hours.Then her brain started to focus in a peculiar sort of way, powerless over thoughts that surfaced unbidden. Abubakar suddenly came to mind...how he had gotten her this way, and how she longed to tell Maama, but couldn't. Maama. . .As her consciousness began to return, she tried without success to open her eyes. Something tight and sticky was holding her lids together. Now she knew she was sleeping. She'd felt that strange paralysis before when wrapped in layers of her dreams, her legs turned to lead as she ran from shadowy pursuers and her eyes became inert shutters. She was scared, what frightened her most was her breathing. Her hand blindly went to her mouth, where she found the tube.Yaa Rahman! She was in a hospital!Her heart was thunderously racing, filling her chest with explosive fear. She blindly pulled at the tube, ripping it from her throat, gagging violently as it made her gasp and choke. But finally, finally, It was free, and she flung it far away.

“I won’t be one of your choices, Logan.” A hand around her neck and the other holding her chin up, he declares, “You were never an option, little mouse. It was you from the start.” ----- Hanna Going back home is like visiting a museum of shame. Worse, beyond that ugly feeling are harsh reality checks—parents don’t live forever, Evergreen is in danger, and the man who broke my heart five years ago is offering the position of Luna, co-guardian of the pack, in a silver platter. He’s desperate to tear my walls down even if it means breaking us in the process so he can rebuild us from the dust. But we can’t afford destruction when death tolls are on the rise and the dead starts walking. -- Logan When I learned that she left, I expected a swift return. But her shadow never once graced Evergreen’s borders, until now—when it’s the most dangerous. Her presence is the warmest comfort wrapped in a wall of thorns. I bleed for her with every push and pull, battering it down so I can meet the girl who fell for me at sixteen and start over. But something lurks in the shadows seeking to destroy our lands before we can even begin. As whispers of a curse dance in the hopeless silence, I find salvation in the unlikeliest of places—a journal from my ancestor, and a woman who’s been guarding secrets.