Turning Red Abby Novels & Stories

Jake commented and reached for Abby’s special milkshake and I guessed that was his retaliation for his long-gone chicken. “Your face is lame. Anyway, Ruby…” I looked up at Abby with a smile. “The moment has come.” “For you to party?” A hopeful look rested on my face. “No! For us to party.” I groaned and slid down the couch. Please, not the party topic. “Don’t moan as if you are dying." Abby rushed toward me and placed the part of her hands which weren't oily on my lap. With determination set in her eyes, she urged me by saying, "Babe, we need to do this.”

My legs were still weak, my folds wet, painfully and sinfully satisfied…but hell…arrows raining. “These rebels have no respect for romance,” I growled. “Let’s kill them first. Then kiss later,” he replied. “Try not to die naked, Your Grace.” He grinned. “You’d mourn me shirtless, admit it.” I ran toward the screams, lightning swirling around me like a jealous lover. One rebel saw me, backed up, and yelled, “It’s the red-dressed demon again!” Good. Let them fear me. Because I was done being the quiet girl. I was Abby—storm-wielding, lip-bitten, kissed-finger-fucked-under-riverlight Abby.

They were both healthy and happy. “My family is complete!” Bobby gushed. “I cannot believe I finally have everyone I could have asked for.” He said pulling Abby into a hug. “I am thankful for finding you.” “Me too papa.” Beth, Abby, and Bobby adjusted to having the twins. Constant diaper changes and crying babies were a lot to take on but it was manageable. Abby grew into a young woman. On Abby’s eightieth birthday, she shifted for the first time; Bobby was there for that as well as her mate. She was a beautiful white wolf with crystal blue eyes. Her shift was painful, but she managed just fine.

I held out my hand, and she smiled, but I could see the shadow in her eyes. “That’s me.” She shook my hand and then turned to her daughter. “This is Abby.” I looked down at the little girl with dull red hair. She had dark circled under her eyes and a missing tooth right up front. I dropped down to her level and stuck out a hand. “Hi Abby, I’m Amy.” She smiled and shook my hand. “Hi.” She looked at me with tired but curious eyes. “You’re beautiful.” “So are you.” I grinned, but she looked down, sad. “What’s wrong darling?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Abby… And you are Iris?” “Just Iris.” I smiled, “but it’s nice to meet you, too.” Abby had straight silver hair that went down to the middle of her back, which was strange for a Black Raven Pack member. Her skin was also fair and light, with freckles dotting her naturally rosy cheeks. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, and, most notably, she was extremely pregnant. Abby’s kind smile faltered, and I realized that I had practically killed the conversation. In an effort to redeem myself, I mustered false enthusiasm. “So… When are you due?”

Abbey glanced down at the fingers cradling the stem of her glass. “I see.” Her hand reached down under the table. Although Nick couldn’t see, from the way she moved it appeared she was trying to cover up the split in her skirt. It didn’t matter, the tablecloth was floor-length and covered everything from the waist down anyway. As if suddenly realizing, Abbey’s hand returned to the tabletop and she clasped her fingers together, placing her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her knuckles. Trying to cover her breasts? Had he made her feel that self-conscious? Impossible. Hookers didn’t get uncomfortable in revealing outfits.

Especially Bob, the floor manager who had been eagerly waiting to watch the drama unfold, and Aunt Ashford, who was still lying on the floor cursing. These two looked as if they had been struck dumb, completely frozen in place. As for Abby, her eyes shook violently, her face drained of all color—pale, almost green. How could this be? That lowly country girl—how could she be her? No way! There must be some mistake! Abby clenched her fingers around her sleeve, her manicured nails digging into her palms as she called out, “Dad.” Her voice was filled with grievance, as if trying to pull Zane back to reality.

The moonlight caught the edge of her face — pale, sharp, not soft at all. The Mark glowed faintly through the thin fabric of her shirt. “You shouldn’t be awake,” I said. “I could say the same to you,” she murmured without turning. Her reflection in the glass looked like someone else entirely — older, colder, haloed in that faint red light. “What did you do?” I asked. “Nothing,” she said. “It just… reacts.” “To what?” She looked over her shoulder. “To you.” The words landed like a blade between my ribs.

"Mr. Randall, Corbin just made a mistake. Please, let him off this once." The moment I opened my eyes, I saw Senna Harlow on her knees outside the Thornwell Group building. She had always been proud to a fault, yet here she was, willing to throw away her dignity for Corbin Pryce.

What about you? Abby: I’m great, thanks! Abby: Get dressed and wear something nice. I’m coming to pick you up in half an hour. Me: Uh… why? Abby: I feel like tequila and dancing. So, I’m taking you out! Abby: Plus, you need to be social. It’s not healthy to stay home all the time. Me: Okay, okay! I’ll go out. Abby: Yay! See you soon. I shoved my phone into my pocket as I walked inside. My home was modern and comfortable, with large windows that allowed natural light to flood the rooms. Clean lines, neutral colors, and stylish furniture gave the house an elegant feel while still making it feel warm and welcoming.