Speak Anderson Novel Novels & Stories

Now she couldn't feel bad about it. Anderson felt his nerves relax, as he confirmed their eight hours trip to Amsterdam as well. “Let me get this trolley out of the way.” He dragged the trolley to the door but before opening it, Avery asked curiously, “So, what other surprises do the rest have?” Anderson chuckled, opened the door,and pushed the trolley out. After locking it, he turned around to face her. “Another time, you might get to discover them.” In other words, they still weren’t out of his list of surprises. If he got another free time, they would explore the remaining surprises. As such, he couldn’t tell her. He pulled her into his arms as soon as he got close to her and asked seduct

He remained unfazed after my question, his deliberate attempt to piss me off portrayed his next-level stubbornness. “Excuse me. I’m talking to you, Mr. Anderson!” He closed the book and asked. “Did you say something to me?” I was about to spat all the curses coming in my mind but suppressed my anger and spoke in an earnest tone. “We should talk now.” He placed the book on the table, fixing his shining silver orbs on me, his mysterious gaze froze me to the spot. “Mr. Anderson is out for work!” What? You rascal! I pointed my finger at him in disbelief.

Thank God for Gideon that suggests we sorr out everything in the common area. Everyone is seated except Anderson. He's going through the cupboards looking for what to eat. I really hope I'm not drooling from staring at his broad shoulders. I wonder if he still plays basketball. “Babe, where's the rice pops cereal? How am I supposed to survive?" Anderson whines. I choke on my saliva. Who on earth did he call babe? I scan the room but nobody looks fazed. I convince myself it's a nickname. “That's not important right now. Sit your ass down.“ Gideon commands. Anderson sits on one of the countertops. “Can you explain to us why you were harassing Vicky over here?"

Meanwhile, at the Anderson residence, the night was long and heavy. Mr Anderson sat in his study room with his wife Sarah Anderson and eldest daughter, Vivian Anderson. The room was so silent that it felt really suffocating as everyone was on their thoughts. Shortly after, Mr Anderson asked the same question he has been asking for the fifth time. “Vivian, when will your assistant be done?” Vivian chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension. “Father, please relax. He will be here any moment.” She said and showed him the text from her assistant.

I guess Matron Mary Ann was within earshot because she arrives almost immediately and clasps Wendy by the arm to drag her away from us while she scolds her for using that kind of language. “Wendy, I told you to be in your best behavior…” she reminds her as she drags Wendy out of the Forum. Once the Andersons get over the surprise, their eyes glint with malice. They are the kind of people that enjoy others mishaps. “Oh, wow, that was… unexpected,” Major Anderson comments. “I see you have quite a reputation here, Alice… I wonder why… what have you done to have gained such a reputation among your fellow Bearers?” Mrs. Anderson inquires with a wry smile.

‘’Come now and let me make you happy "Miss Franchester drags him up to their bedroom and in no time moans and deep breathing could be heard coming from there. They were both souls who matched their goals. Franchester was ready to give it all to Luna and so was Mr Anderson. For his quest, he has not only lost his fated mate but also his daughter. There was nothing left to lose. ‘’I will quickly send a reply to the snowfall pack and we will wait on their reply’’ Mr Anderson tells Miss Franchester to get up from the bed. He went straight for his home office, passing through the bedroom of Sofia which was slightly open. He could not resist the urge to walk in. Everything was gone, just furniture

It’s the clearest I’ve felt in longer than I care to admit. Anders is already awake. He sits in his rocking chair near the fire, a drink cradled in one hand, his book open in the other. The chair gives its familiar, steady squeak with every gentle rock. When he hears me shift, he glances up. “Good morning.” I grunt in response, pushing myself upright. My chest tightens as the weight of what I came here for settles back in. “So,” I say finally when he doesn’t continue, “I’m ready to have that talk now.”

Anderson took a seat beside her, careful not to sit too close to her as she was already wary of him. “My aunt was named Annabelle.” He said out of the blue, and Annabelle glanced at him shortly. “She loved flowers and lived in an enchanting cottage.” He'd hoped a light-hearted conversation would lower her guard, even when he did most of the talking. Anderson narrated the tales his aunt told him to her, and slowly she grew less cautious. “I like flowers too.” It was her first contribution to the conversation, and Anderson graced her with a warm smile. “Does that mean I'm a reincarnation of your aunt?” Annabelle asked this with a notable excitement in her tone, her eyes shining with glee as sh

My guy was everywhere. Now, let me make one thing clear – I don't like Anderson. He's too shiny, like a polished diamond that screams, "Look at me, I'm rich, I'm powerful, and my teeth are probably whiter than your entire existence." But hey, who am I to judge? The gossipy bunch was deep into the juicy details, and being the accidental eavesdropper that I am, I couldn't resist tuning in. "I heard Anderson's escapade made the front page. Front and center, like a VIP pass to scandal town," one person declared with a flourish, waving their arms like a conductor leading an orchestra of rumors.

Finally, I say, “I get that. We all have to look out for ourselves, but Dad always told me that doesn’t mean you abandon someone in trouble. The line between self-sufficient and selfish can often become obscured.” Anderson is silent but doesn’t say anything. “It’s good to know, though,” I finally murmur. “What?” I don’t look his way. “That you’re not someone I should ever rely on. Not that I was planning to do so anyway. Either way, if you hadn’t screamed like a girl, I would’ve thought you left me behind in the tunnels. Seems something right up your alley.” Anderson bristles. “I don’t scream like a girl, and I never screamed. I was attacked from behind. Where would I find the time to scream