Tara Hart Novels & Stories

' I just laughed at their banter about their daughters, though it made me crave that future. Aura and I have kept contact with Blaine and Lainee through our shared link and I even opened one with Cleo. Once I'd remembered I was able to do it with Jacob, Ryan, and even Cristian, I opened a link with her. She said it had to be some crazy warrior thing, leading me to become more curious with what comes with being a Black Moon member. I haven't confronted Tate yet about my curiosity, only Blaine and Lainee. They told me to ask Tate's mother, who was apparently a keeper for the council and kept all their documents and books. She knew all the history.

But tonight he felt something close to resentment. “Who is she?” he asked finally. Torvin hesitated. “Her name is Aria.” Ryan’s brow furrowed slightly. He recognized the name. The quiet girl who lived near the healer’s quarters. The one who rarely spoke. The one many wolves whispered about. Ryan had heard the rumors. That she had no real pack blood. That she had no wolf. That she was weak. Unsuitable. The thought irritated him. The elders truly expected him to accept someone like that as his Luna?

I go to the window, my heart twisting as I watch the SUV speed farther away till it vanishes from sight. ➹⚛⚛➷⚛⚛➹ Morning doesn't come soon enough. The next day, after washing up, the smell of coffee and toast leads me to the kitchen. A middle aged omega beams from the counter, "Good morning, Miss Hart. I'm Tara Henson." She wipes her hand with a towel and holds it out to me. "The headservant here. You already retired when I got back last night. I didn't want to disturb you."

She asked gently, offering me her cigar. I waved it away. “I don't have the mental bandwidth for this.” I exhaled, my patience beginning to chafe. Tara was the most erratic woman I knew. She could be the calm Al-Sayiyda one minute, onboarding Velora escorts and managing them, and then a crying mess the next minute, asking me why I could not love her and threatening to kill herself. A sudden moan filtered into my ear. And I stared lazily at the wall on the other end.

Tara never talked to me coldly even when she was hurt by me when I let Stella around. To hear her speak to me coldly and the determination to get divorce so she could marry Hendrick shook my confidence. So I discontinued typing and deleted the unfinished message. Tara’s POV I was puzzled that Andrei had been refusing to answer my calls and messages for days now. Did he change his mind? But, I’m now determined to have divorce. I can’t continue our sinful relationship. I can’t stomach it. “Tara, Hendrick is already here to pick you,” my mom said outside the door of my room.

And while everyone was talking about the audition and the screenwriter Ayah, only one person didn't speak or move. She stood there quietly, her palms sweaty. She is Taria Rollins, a once-popular actress. She filmed in her prime and was one the most searched actress, however, one thing led to another.

For my first kiss, I want to hear music and run up into his loving arms to feel what I hope to be one of the single most sensual moments of my life. I know most girls like to get their first kiss from the first boy they like. Not me, at the age of 7 I just knew that my first kiss would be from the man I loved. That is why I, Tara Stevens am now 21 and can say I have never been kissed. I bet at the age of seven I never thought I wouldn’t have found my true love by now. That’s what I get for believing in fiction. The only fictional story that is remotely true is the Princess and the Frog. The author of that was trying to get the true meaning of life out there. There are too many frogs out in t

“Have you heard the news?” Good morning, Tara,” I said, offering a polite smile. “What news?” “Maya's on leave,” she replied, lowering her voice, “and Clarisse is back in town. Talk about timing, right?” “Tara it is an office, people are free to come and go as much as they want,” I said, feigning indifference. I glanced sideways at Tara. She was in her early thirties, but still possessed the kind of effortless beauty and charisma that turned heads. More importantly, she was genuine—a rarity in this building.

"Sweet for the brave." He beamed, muttered a shy thanks, and darted off toward a woman across the road. My heart stilled as soon as I saw her. Tara Whitmore. One of Lena’s junior team leads in strategy and development. Efficient, low-profile, and stunning in a quiet way. Today, she was distracted, arguing softly into her phone while her son ran into her legs. She scooped him up without missing a beat. I hesitated. I wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the oddness of seeing someone from the company out here. Maybe it was curiosity. Or maybe it was the way she smiled down at her son. Either way, I crossed the street.

Henry never mentioned about knowing Tara Winters. Tara shook her head and asked me to help her to place the pudding in the crystal bowl. “I left New York and moved to Emerald City to pursue my modelling career. We were supposed to do it together but she got pregnant with her son, Henry. She did send some photos of her and her baby Henry. We were in contact until my career was at its peak then our friendship just slipped away. I guess”