The Good Left Undone: A Novel Novels & Stories

William’s most trusted personal security lead, a man named Hassan who had been with the family since before Thorne, conducted the sweep. The report came back as a voice note in their secure channel. Hassan’s voice was calm but baffled. “Sir, it’s a clean box. Professionally wiped. No fingerprints, no DNA. Rented furnished, paid a year in advance with untraceable crypto. The only item out of place is a book on the coffee table. Looks… deliberately placed.” Mimi pulled up the photo Hassan sent. The apartment was indeed sterile. On the glass coffee table lay a single, well-thumbed copy of “The Strategist’s Dilemma: Game Theory in Modern Conflict.”

maybe the look when you don't want a traumatic past to be brought up. Eustone sighed and looked down. "You're useless. They need to stop hurting you..." Silence occupied both of them for a while. They were staring at the far side of the rooftop and just letting the wind blew on their faces. "Here," she muttered that made him look at her. "Just a thank you for last night." Eustone took the small bag and looked at what's inside. "They don't taste good but I just wanted to give you something so I don't owe you anything..." she mumbled looking at the side.

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Elizabeth nodded her head agreeing with this arrangement though she needed to adjust, she's willing to do so if she's allowed out into the world. "Okay but Eli, try to get along with your roommates but stay cautious of them as well. Don't let your guard down. Take care of yourself." Mr. Lancaster had told her with soft eyes as she hugged him tight. Twelve days later, here she is now standing infront of the prestigious New York University. With deep breaths, she walked towards the right side of the campus where the female dorms were located. Moving up to the third floor of the dorms, she looked at the key card in her hand, and glanced at the room number- 2301 and pressed her fingerprint into

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BIOGRAPHY Mercedes M. Yardley is a dark fantasist who wears stilettos, red lipstick, and poisonous flowers in her hair. She is the author of the short story collection Beautiful Sorrows, the novellas Apocalyptic Montessa and Nuclear Lulu: A Tale of Atomic Love and Little Dead Red, and the novels Nameless: The Darkness Comes and Pretty Little Dead Girls: A Novel of Murder and Whimsy. She often speaks at conferences and teaches workshops on several subjects, including personal branding and how to write a novel in stolen moments. Mercedes lives and works in Sin City with her family and menagerie of Strange and Unusual Pets. You can reach her at www.abrokenlaptop.com.

"Kaia Keene, first you refuse to do your good deeds, and now you're making up lies." "I'm not lying! I ran out of money and got a part-time job. I met this old woman, and she wants me to give her a grandson—" I rushed to explain, desperate to make her believe me. She cut me off. "Then have the baby. Give them a healthy boy, and I'll count it as ten years' worth of good deeds. You won't have to worry about your daily good deed anymore." The call disconnected. I stared at the phone, stunned.

He spared me one last contemptuous look, then walked out of the warehouse without looking back. Only when the cold numbness finally dulled the stabbing pain a little did I move. I used my left hand to dig a tiny tracker out from inside my bra and pressed it with a shaking finger. My most trusted associate, Enzo Giordano, arrived quickly. The moment he saw me, his eyes went red. He carefully pulled the knife out of my hand. My right palm was a mangled blur of flesh and blood. I couldn't feel a thing. My voice was weak, but I had never sounded more determined in my life. "Set a fire. Burn everything here to the ground. From today on, Navarro doesn't have a Queen of Cards named Anna Russo anymo

June June was someone who had a rough time in school. She was not too sharp with books yet not so bad. But she was in a place where people, were judged by academics and she wasn't given enough opportunity to do anything, there were people pulling her down frequently. People around were too shallow to let her be. She was that unnoticed girl who was like invisible to everyone. Her presence din't really affect anyone but nor did her absence. She thought she wouldn't make any friends in her life ever. Yet in her final two years of High School she managed to make pretty decent friends. She loved and cherished memories of those awesome people. For her love was something magical, she thought when s

All that remained was an overwhelming sense of bitterness. Jodie Duncan was a soldier in the art troupe and Kyson's true love in the military. I was just his abandoned wife from the countryside. Of course, I couldn't measure up to her. That night, after my son, Darryl Hale, was asleep, I quietly went out to the yard. I dug up every seed, and with them, the last shred of hope I had for Kyson. Snapping out of my thoughts, I masked my sorrow and pushed open the door.