The Lake House Novels & Stories

Proserpina The car speeded along now since the road leading to the lake house was generally empty. From what I recalled, Lucien had bought up most of the property surrounding the house to ensure that we would have our privacy. As we turned into the Chapter driveway and reached the lake house, perched on the banks of the pristine, clean waters of the lake, I smiled. I had fallen in love with the house, a house that Schwartz had gifted us. And I blushed as I thought of how I had, unsuccessfully, tried my hand at being a Dominatrix, here, in this very house.

I shrugged it on, the weight of it pressing against my shoulders like a shroud. The French window creaked as I pushed it open, the cold night air rushing in to bite at my skin. Outside, the lake stretched out like a sheet of black glass, its surface undisturbed by the chaos inside the house. This place - this lake house - was a gift Lucas had given to Leah. A sanctuary, she'd called it. The first place she'd brought me after pulling me from the wreckage of Sak's Sheridan Club. I'd been half-dead then, my body broken, my mind a shattered mirror. She'd pieced me back together, or at least tried to.

The conversation seems to be troubling both of them, which is not my problem. The door of the room I’m in suddenly opened and Madeline worked in after a slight knock, “oh, I see you have found Jacob,” she said smiling. ”Or he found me,” I said, closing up the curtains, “how is he here?” I asked her. “His family has a lake house around here, so I’m guessing he is here for some woods for a fireplace,” she said and I nodded, sitting down. “It seems everyone has a lake house,” I sighed.

I carried the dress from the bag seat along with my bag. "So? What do you have planned for me?". I questioned as we swiftly got nearer to the front door of the lake house. "Why don't you freshen up and get changed first?" he asked, taking the keys out and opening the door. "Then I will tell you," he smiled, and first allowed me to go inside the house. The Lake House had three rooms, one for our parents and the other two for Christopher and myself. It has been a while since we came here, and I do believe that our parents have forgotten about the well-furnished Lakewood that was built in the woods.

Every accidental brush sent heat racing under my skin, but we kept our faces turned toward the windows, pretending fascination with passing trees. The lake house appeared at the end of a long gravel drive—warm cedar siding, wide wraparound porch, windows glowing gold against the late-afternoon sky. The lake stretched out behind it, flat and silver under low clouds. It should have felt peaceful. Instead it felt like a pressure cooker with the lid already rattling. Lisa had assigned rooms with brisk efficiency the moment we walked in. “Master for us,” she said, gesturing toward the large bedroom at the end of the hall. “Boys, you can share the bunk room—two twin

We were traveling light, but it should be enough for the short time we'd be away. The trip was probably only about a hundred miles as the crow flies, but roads were a different matter altogether. We would take the back roads through north Texas, crossing the lake into Oklahoma near Cedar Mills, driving for another hour on paved roads before hitting the gravel, then a dirt road that lead to the old family homestead. Robin's mother had told us that her father had built the original lake house, a real rustic cabin, in the middle of nowhere. The creation of Lake Texoma by damming the Red River made 120+ acres of inaccessible hillside a valuable commodity 30 years later. Most of the lake developm

I need half a million dollars to keep the doors open long enough to stabilize. The bank won’t extend more credit. I’m already leveraged to my limit, my personal assets tied up in Elena’s treatments and keeping the company afloat this long. Adrian sits on thirty percent of my company, watching me bleed out, probably enjoying every second of it. There’s only one asset left that’s worth enough and liquid enough to solve this problem. The lake house. Elena and I bought it five years ago, back when the company was thriving and her diagnosis was still years away. A beautiful property two hours north, right on the water. We had plans for it. Summers there. Eventually

“We need one last thing,” Jake declared, sprawled on the couch with Nora tucked against his side. “Before everything scatters. Lake house. Aunt Lisa’s. One final weekend. Full circle.” Mia’s eyes met Ethan’s across the room. The lake house—where their story had shifted so many times. Where she’d first crossed lines with Alex in a drunken haze, where she and Ethan had fought and reconciled, where healing had begun amid summer storms. Everyone nodded, the pull undeniable.

The lake house had been Simon's suggestion, oddly enough — a property his family had owned for two generations, sitting quiet and unassuming at the end of a gravel road three hours north of the city, the kind of place that smelled like pine needles and old wood smoke the moment you stepped through the door.

He had just held out his hand and I had taken it and we had gone through the screen door and across the porch and down the steps and onto the lake house lawn in the November dark. The lake was a sound more than a sight. The soft percussion of water on the dock pilings, the small lapping that was the constant voice of the place we had come to first as a refuge and had stayed in because it turned out to be home. The pines were dark shapes against a sky that had more stars than the city ever showed. It was cold. The good kind. The honest kind. The kind that meant you were somewhere real. Harry stopped in the grass between the porch steps and the dock.