Stranger In My House Book Novels & Stories

It was quiet, almost sacred, with sunlight streaming through the large windows and rows of books inviting me to lose myself in their worlds. I wandered through the aisles aimlessly until I stumbled across a section on business biographies. My fingers hovered over the spines until I spotted one that looked familiar: Against All Odds: The Rise of Evan Bennett. I pulled the book from the shelf, my heart racing. I hadn't known a biography about him existed. The cover featured a candid photo of Evan, his piercing eyes staring directly at the camera.

Strangely, it had gone undetected, which made the situation troubling. The man’s expression remained impassive. His eyes indicated that his thoughts were wandering. Suddenly, he remembered something that oddly troubled him. The man immediately stood up and left his office. As he passed through the main area of his home, he saw his wife sitting on the sofa, intently watching the TV. Her face clearly showed she was deeply focused on something. Jaxter, who had initially intended to head to the company he had left for several days, briefly diverted his steps toward his wife, curious about what was capturing her attention. The guards who had been following him paused in the hallway. "What are you

he asked dryly before shrugging my hand off his arm. For a moment, I was too stunned to speak. Is this idiot serious? “Of course you’re supposed to know me!” I snapped. “I’m the lady of this house! Who the fuck are you people, and why are you touching my things?” Before he could answer, another man walked out of my house carrying one of my expensive suitcases. Without an ounce of care, he dropped it onto the growing pile of my belongings. My jaw nearly hit the floor. “Stop!” I yelled, pointing angrily at the house. “Nobody goes into my home again or I’m calling the police!”

The hallway felt like a vacuum. Jennifer's eyes were glued to Melanie, her lips twitching, the term 'brother-in-law' crumbling in her mouth. "Sis, what did you just say?" She pointed at me, her finger shaking wildly, disbelief and absurdity swirling in her eyes. "You're saying he...he's..." "Are you having trouble understanding plain English?" Melanie did not even bother to look at her straight, just cradled Noelle in one arm and looped the other around my waist, a clear statement of ownership and protection.

“Welcome to Casa Zen.” Still silent, he follows me up the steps. He does not look around like people usually do. His eyes never leave me. I fumble with the keys, my nerves prickling now that I have brought a stranger home. A hot stranger. A quiet stranger. A maybe, unhinged, but weirdly safe-feeling stranger.

" I took a moment to absorb the load of information he’d just given me. He waited expectantly. I perked up and nodded in understanding. He smiled and nodded in return before walking off somewhere into the mansion. I was completely alone. It felt somewhat intimidating being in that big house by myself. I wondered if I’d ever get used to it. He told me to explore. So, I did. I must have seen dozens of rooms: bedrooms, ballrooms, libraries, galleries, and this was still only half the mansion. All to take care of some lonely, sick old man? I wondered about this "Mr. Weston." How bad was his condition? Why did he live alone? More than that, why was it nearly impossible to find a caretaker for him

The window frame beside her was large, and she could tell it was a large compound from the translucent draperies. Chloe's leg touched the ground, and she was ready to make her way to the exit when a large-framed man, almost six feet by her estimation, walked in. He looked vaguely familiar, and she guessed he was the stranger who owned the house. "I'm so sorry I had to bother you," Chloe apologized quickly before he had a chance to speak. "I'm still trying to piece together what happened last night and how I ended up here."

Elise With the help of my phone navigator, I was able to get to the address without much hassle. However, the area was secluded to my liking. It was dark and quite. If someone murdered a person, no one will be able to tell. I tried not let the quiteness and darkness get to me as I furthered my way towards the shop with the 'Devine Automibe' written at the top. The transparent door was conciously locked that I almost thought the place is vacant until it was abruptly opened. An elderly man's face surfaces.

When the sun the up? Oh, well. I throw my phone carefully on the blue pillow on the bed. I haven’t read in a bit, so I take one of my favorite books. Though I have read it numerous times, it’s an epic book. I run my finger on the letters on the cover page of the book. The letters reads: THE OUTSIDERS. I sigh satisfyingly and begin my book. In a minute, I’m already lost in the world of ‘Ponyboy Curtis’, the book’s narrator.

With a quick breath and my hands wrapped tightly around the bat, I lifted my foot and slammed the door open. My eyes went wide. Inside was a man—a very naked, bleeding man covered in dried blood and cuts, rifling through my cabinet with a bandage in his hand. “Who are you, and what the fuck are you doing in my house?” I snarled, stepping closer, the bat raised. The stranger pressed his back against the sink, looking cornered. "I—shit!" he spat, and before I could react, he lunged forward, knocking the air from my lungs as I hit the floor hard, my head cracking against the wood.