The Beach House Novels & Stories

The text reads: HEY, HOW ARE YOU? ..... I smile warmly. I have not heard from Jason since the beach day. I will text him later, after my meet up with the devil. Lizzie, that is. In no time, I’m on the street that Lizzie told me her house is. I walk to the huge house. The lawn is perfect, the windows are gigantic. The house is extremely modern. A little rectangular tag is near the door and it says: 666.

She asked me as my men led us into a boat that was to take us to the beach house. "Yeah." Woah and wow was all she was saying till we got to the beach house. The moment we got down from the boat, Mom scurried out to welcome us along with Dad, Liam, Laurel and some of the staffs that were responsible for taking care of the house. Dad had bought this beach house three years ago along with some islands and other vacation centres in other countries. "What took you so long babycheeks?" Mom asked me as she led us inside. Kaitlyn*

The reason why the two of us was here is because we picked the two short sticks and all I know is that it is planned. I wonder where we are going, Brighton beach was not far from here but we are travelling for about an hour already. The jeep stopped in front of a regular beach house which was designed with a very homey feeling. I jumped off and got my duffel bag. I trailed behind Caiden who is holding a key, which I assumed was the key to this pretty beach house. He went up the stairs and opened the door. The beautiful living room welcomed us; the walls were painted beige and there seated in the middle of the room was an orange couch. I found it weird, I've never seen a couch in that color b

I knew the night was set. “No, I'm too tired and sore… I need a hot bath,” I said while stretching myself. Brigitte chuckled and we ended up laughing. “Fine, then go to the beach house and take a shower…” Brigitte suggested and I nodded. I saw it, and it was magnificent, I already knew Ricardo owned nice places. However, this one topped the others. *** I left the others having a good time when I rushed to the beach house and took a shower. It was quiet, and everything one would need to relax. The entire house was 80% constructed with pure glass. One could see what was happening outside.

The face of the goddess-like sun is encircled by the subdued naval fingers of the skyline. It awakened my senses in a way I'd never seen or felt before in the sun's drab brightness. The picture appeared to be from a painting, as everything appeared to have come to a complete stop. On the black beach, the waves slowly crash into white foam. In contrast to the sun's beams, the tiny crystals in the sand shimmer and shine magnificently. The wind carries the seagulls. When I turned around, the design of a beach house near them amazed me. On the deck, you may unwind, read a book, and enjoy a bottle of red wine while taking in the ocean.

Which is why even though Dmitri may look like someone I couldn’t easily overcome, I would still try to defend my right for the property that Julius Silverstone owned. It wasn’t even long when the rest of us were able to reach the beach house. It was spacious villa type beach house facing the beautiful sea. The breeze here is really wonderful that the entire place is truly ideal for a getaway vacation away from the busy streets of the city. I instructed my men to stay outside while Klen and Taylor insisted to come with me inside alongside Dmitri. And as the four of us entered the house, we were suddenly surprised by two couple who eagerly greeted us inside.

The idea of living by the beach, with its soothing waves and calming horizon, has been a beacon of hope through the darkest times of my life. As we pull up to the property, my eyes widen in awe at the first glimpse of the house. It's a charming two-story structure, painted in a welcoming shade of pastel blue. The exterior is adorned with white trim, giving it a coastal cottage vibe. A neatly manicured front lawn stretches out, offering a hint of greenery against the backdrop of the golden sands and azure waters of the beach.

We arrived yesterday, Thursday night and after breakfast this morning, Damian asked me to join him at the beach once I was less busy which led to me going out there. The beach house we are currently in has two bedrooms, one for each of us and I’m currently in the living room. The living room exudes coastal chic and relaxation, walls adorned with calming shades of white and cream, a sleek low-profile sectional sofa in beige colour, a statement piece reclaimed wood coffee table, sliding glass door leading out to the patio and the beach, a minimalist yet impactful chandelier, carefully placed coastal-inspired decorative vintage surfboards and shell-filled vases,

We pass the flashing chaos of the Strip, then turn off toward a quieter stretch of coastline, where the lights dim and the ocean stretches endlessly. The beach house appears like something out of a dream—whitewashed walls, wraparound porch, and the low, constant whisper of waves crashing nearby. It’s tucked away near the end of the strip. I step out of the car and inhale the clean and salty air. “I forgot what fresh air felt like,” I murmur, eyes closed. Damien leads me inside, his hand warm on my lower back. The house smells like cedarwood and linen. The living room is cozy, with woven throws, oversized pillows, and floor-to-ceiling windows that give you the

She gave me a pointed look, and I felt a fresh wave of panic, immediately realizing how much harder it would be to maintain my distance from Jace when there was nowhere to run. The atmosphere inside the SUV shifted abruptly as we turned off the highway and started driving down a densely wooded private road. The laughter died down, replaced by Anna’s directions and the crunch of tires on gravel. When we finally broke through the trees, the air changed—it became thick and salty with the sea breeze, and filled with the roar of the ocean nearby. The beach house wasn’t a house. It was a huge fortress built right into the cliffside, all clean lines, massive panes of