Twisted Emily Mcintire Novels & Stories

As the morning went by, Eric quickly wrapped up his work and drove downtown to the Bricks restaurant with the hopes that he would find Sandra. As he walked in through the door he quickly spotted her. Thank goodness he breathed under his breath as he beamed a smile at her. Sandra smiled back remembering him from yesterday. Such a gentleman she thought to herself as she walked up to him to hand him the menu. Be right back she said as she went back to attend to another customer who had requested Summer pine. Eric felt sweat on his brows not because of the weather but because he had been ruminating on how he was going to approach Sandra about his intention.

He is the merchant who had helped my father in his business, things drifted apart when he was found working as a double agent for the Smiths. Emerson finishes a call hitting down a few more notes before moving on to the next, her effort is almost robotic and the soft smile that graces her lips makes a glow drawing me in like a moth, a tiger mutant moth. It's moments like this that I wonder what she's really thinking and what she's feeling. Does she hate me for what happened to her father? Or is she just clueless? If she hates me it will be hard for her to stick to her word.

With trembling hands, she tried it. Another soft click echoed through the tunnel. The chains slithered to the ground. Claire lifted the lid carefully. Inside were stacks of old papers, dusty envelopes sealed with the Arrington family crest— and, at the very bottom, a leather-bound journal. Claire’s fingers closed around it reverently. This was it. Answers. Maybe even leverage. She tucked the journal under her arm and turned back toward the stairs. But as she reached for the door at the top— It wouldn’t budge.

“Ems?” My tormentor said gently. There was no way I was going to respond to the name he called me while we had been together. There was no point now. He hadn’t moved any closer as I ignored him, so he was probably asking for permission to get closer. “Emily?” I huffed and tilted my head back. I wasn’t going to get up for him. “What do you want?” He shrugged awkwardly. “I just thought I’d check on you.”

My stomach twisted, my hands trembled against my lap, my throat closed as I stared at him, at the straight line of his shoulders, the merciless calm of his face as if he’d just declared something undeniable. I should have felt relief, gratitude, something— anything, that he was lying for me. But all I felt was this twisting storm inside me, sharp and jagged, because just minutes ago I had hated him, had believed him capable of throwing me to the wolves. And now he was shielding me with a lie so heavy it could shake the table itself. I didn’t know what to think. Only two of us knew the truth — Jeremiah and me. Or did he? A sick, dizzy thought whispered in my mind… maybe he did think it was po

she whispered, every word dripping with teasing intent. Malik watched them, a quiet observer, as the subtle tension between desire and jealousy wrapped around all three of them. Imani’s pulse raced—not just from Zariah’s teasing, but from the way Malik’s steady presence, quiet intensity, and restrained fire amplified every sensation. The space between them was electric, charged with anticipation, desire, and intimacy, and she knew—tonight, everything would stretch further.

Eleanor gasped at the picture that followed the caption. It was a picture of her twins, Dylan and Sam. She panicked as she stood up abruptly, ignoring her health status, and dashed for her children's room, James and the guards on standby rushing after her. "Dylan, Sam!" she called out frantically, tearing their room apart. "Where are you?" Her voice shaking as she ordered some of the guards on standby to search for them around the mansion, she raced down the stairs and to the kitchen. Slamming the door open abruptly, staring at Lucas, she stated out of breath, "The twins... the twins are missing, Lucas!”

Despite the fear still pressing at every window, a laugh slipped out of me. Colton looked up. The softening in his face was immediate, almost painful. Like my laugh was a thing he had been waiting for without knowing whether he deserved it. I looked away before I did something foolish. Grace saw that too. Of course she did. The next hour passed in pieces. Emily introduced herself properly while helping me rebandage Grace’s arm. She was direct, unsentimental, and had the air of someone who found emotional scenes mildly inconvenient but would step in front of a bullet without being asked. She was Bailey’s closest friend, a Grimfang scout, and apparently the person most likely to tell Colton wh

The crowd, losing their minds like we’d kicked off a war they’d only ever watched from a distance. And Nick. That’s the part that won’t go away. Not Jessie’s laughter. Not Ronnie yelling like some wild animal. Just Nick—standing there, frozen. Like he didn’t recognize me. We haven’t talked since. I don’t know if we ever will. The screen door creaked. Jessie came out barefoot, hair a wild mess, still half-asleep. She lit a cigarette and handed it to me without even looking. I shook my head. “Suit yourself,” she muttered, taking a drag. “You regret it?”

I see her body visibly tensed up, she quickly straightens her posture. Too fucking late. No fucking panties on! Fuck she was so naught, walking around me like that, swaying those hips, hypnotizing me with her scent. She has no idea what she’s doing to me. She turns around quickly, starting to apologize . “Flames , I’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to-“ She attempts to touch me but I quickly step to the side and out of her reach. I can’t trust myself to act right if I feel her hands on me .