Sophie Howard Ebooks Novels & Stories

“Wait! “ Sophie called out to trivia and hastened her steps towards her. She held her by the arm and pulled at her grip, while sweat broke off her temples, causing her to shake severally. It worried her a whole lot. She intended on a whole lot of things, but this certainly wasn't anything she hoped for, and it ripped her up seeing how everything came up as a mistake and pain to her. “please… just…. How about you just listen?“ Sophie pleaded again while cold sweat trickled off trivia temples. She wasn't sure how to handle those things, and it was getting a whole lot worse. “I'm … I shouldn't have... Could you please just...” trivia repeated again, breaking out at the end of her words fille

CHAPTER 10 [The Sophie Effect] ~TRAVIS~ If chaos had a face, it would undoubtedly wear Sophie Summers’ unrelenting smile. For the past few days, she had inserted herself into every corner of my life at my textile company, leaving me to wonder how someone so seemingly innocent could wreak such calculated havoc.

Ethan gestured for Harper to inquire about Sophie’s drink preferences, and he complied promptly. "Pardon my manners; what would you like to drink?" Harper inquired. "Anything, but not beer," Sophie replied. "Seriously, do not tell me you came here intending to drink soft drinks?" Harper probed. "Haha, I could indeed enjoy a glass of wine, but I am not a fan of alcohol," Sophie laughed and clarified. "Wow, it has been quite some time since I encountered a lady who abstains from alcohol," Harper remarked. "Well, there are many ladies who do not drink alcohol, but you would not know unless informed," Sophie asserted.

Sophie, whose back was to the fireplace also went rigid as the sound of fire crackling reached her ears. Spinning around, she gawked at the fireplace in awe, too stunned to say anything. After a long minute of silence, she whispered in the dark, "How?" I swallowed the lump in my throat, "You told me to let it out." As I stared at the dancing flames, one particular line from the journal flashed in my mind, "Mabel owned many peculiar talents like hypnotizing others, controlling the fire, healing abilities, etc." Sophie and I both stared at each other with horror and whispered in unison, "Controlling the fire..."

The textbooks were pushed to the side and forgotten as the beer flowed. Sophie was cute. She had light brown hair that waved into the middle of her back, blue eyes, and the warmest smile you’d ever seen. The light smattering of cinnamon-coloured freckles on her nose and over her shoulders popped against her suntanned skin under her white shoe-string camisole. She looked me over with those big blue doe-like eyes, but even I wasn’t enough of a jerk to break the bro-code, no matter how hot Sophie was. Stacey on the other hand…

Howard had been smiling warmly as he held Amelia’s hand, but Sophia’s words instantly wiped the cheerful expression from her face. “Whatever Amelia wants, I want too! I want all of you out of here, right now. I've had it up to here with all this incessant noise and drama. It's absolutely exhausting!" Howard snapped, fixing Sophia with a sharp, piercing glare. "Especially you, Sophia. You're nothing but a meddling, gossiping pain in the neck!" “Howard…How could you call me something like that?" Sophia’s voice trembled, almost breaking, as she turned to Damian, tears already streaming down her face.

"The doctors said not to overwhelm you—" "Please." I grab his hand, this stranger who loves some version of me that no longer exists. "I need to know if you've ever heard of Marcus Henderson. Or Catherine Lewis. Or a little girl named Truth." His expression shifts to genuine alarm. "Sophie, you're scaring me. Those are characters from your book." "My... book?" Jacob reaches for a tablet on the bedside table, tapping the screen before turning it toward me. I stare in disbelief at the cover displayed: "His Forbidden Truth" by Sophia Winters. My name—or some version of it—attached to a fiction that mirrors my reality.

She looked straight at Hannah, a small, practiced smile touching her lips. "Hannah, darling," Sophie said, her voice a clear, ringing bell in the quiet hall. "I didn't realize we shared this block." Hannah stiffened beside me. "Sophie. Welcome back." Sophie’s gaze shifted then. It slid over me like a sheet of ice, dismissive and sharp. She knew who I was. She knew I was the "writer friend." But as she took a seat two rows in front of us, she adjusted her bag, and I saw the glint of a massive, emerald-cut diamond on her left hand.

at the gallery flickered in my mind. “Sophie!” Zander shouted toward the open door. Sophie marched in, looking uncharacteristically frazzled. Her usual trendy outfit was slightly wrinkled, and she was chewing on the end of a stylus. “I’m here, I’m here. And before you ask, no, I still haven’t found a crack. The guy is a saint on paper. It’s honestly insulting. I even checked his kindergarten records—he won a ‘Best Sharer’ award. Who does that?”

A second later, her entire face changed. “It’s a book!” Eleanor smiled a little. “It is.” Sophie pulled it out immediately, already turning the cover toward herself. It was a children’s book about a little girl who liked building things—bridges, toy houses, tiny inventions made from scraps. Honestly, it was exactly the kind of thing Sophie loved. “She builds stuff?” Sophie asked. “She does,” Eleanor answered. “Very clever stuff.” Sophie flipped through two pages before looking up. “I like it.” “I hoped you would.”