Unhinged Book Vera Valentine Novels & Stories

137 Vera came out with a self-blaming pale look on her face. 'The money cannot bring Kinston back, uncle. But I hope it helps.' Vera wandered in some streets next. She was thoroughly enjoying the time, though her heart still throbbed in pain and guilt. She was looking around at the shops and the fine Christmas decor outside them when her phone rang. "Yes, Mr. Bronze." Vera answered the phone. "Luna, there's an email addressed to you." He spoke, sounding wary.

She must also be regretting something. “You said that we shouldn't hurt Estelle because she didn't choose to be a Stealer. But you saw it yourself, Val, she has stolen your fiancé even if it's only for a day,” Vera shouted from a distance. She enjoyed this and would probably wait until I died at Valerie's hands. I had no hope at all and thought Valerie would be swayed by Vera's words. Valerie probably killed me and ripped my corpse to pieces, because she was so infatuated with Hugo. But she just let me go and made my body fall to the cold and hard floor.

This letter is from someone for whom the argument was not an argument — it was the word for something she was living and had no word for. She reads it twice before she puts it down. A woman at forty-five. The fourth book. The first movement. The description of the woman who was not unhappy. The specific reader the book was written for. In June of the seventy-eighth year, Valentina receives a letter. Not an email — a letter, handwritten, on paper, from a woman she does not know. The woman is forty-five years old. She has read all four books. She writes to say that the fourth book — specifically the first movement, the description of the woman who was not unhappy and did not know that not-unha

` Vera replied, staring hard at her. She taunted, "Little Tessa has a Goliath fighting for her. Oh, I am sorry if my words were insultive, but you see, from where I come from, women like Tessa aren't recognised because they`re invisible and worthless to family growth.` No, she didn't just call me worthless, invisible, and barren at the same time. I wanted to grab her and slap my senses into her, but it seemed Vera read my facial expression and stepped in for me again.

That she got what she wanted, whenever and however. So yeah, I walked home hard and pissed and full of visions I wanted to bleach out of my head. But it never went away; I could still feel the heat in my hands. When I opened my own door, the place was dead quiet. Vera lay on her stomach, black hair up, tank rucked up enough to show her bare back and the rise of one hip. The covers bunched around her knees. She always slept deep—never even flinched when I came in smelling like smoke and low-grade testosterone. For a second, I stood in the doorway, watching her ribcage move. I thought about Lydia again, and then I thought about Vera, and then about both of them together and my hands tightening

Brown hands trembled as he backed away, mumbling another apology before hastily exiting the office. Alone in his office, Fidelis stared at the folder resting on his desk. His gaze lingered on it, his heartbeat quickening despite his better judgment. He was aware he shouldn’t, but his curiosity overwhelmed him. He reached out, his fingertips grazing the edge of the file before he drew it closer. Name: Vera Susan. Age: 21. She had been a media studies major at Georgia University, attending on a full scholarship. However, she had not completed even a single semester.

Always positioned to be visible. Always shining beneath dirt and bruises. She was a jewel buried in the mud, and the right King knew how to dig up treasure. But his Luna Vera, she saw it too. Vera was razor-beautiful. Tall, lethal, with a mouth made for snarling. Her long black hair was braided tight like a crown of warning thorns. Her authority came not from softness, but from fear. She hated Veronica instantly. “If it looks like a whore and acts like a whore,” Vera sneered, repeating her mantra one morning.

Well shit, its the end! Damn, I really enjoyed writing this novel. I loved the lessons its taught me and I love the person I've become through writing this book. Especially Valerie. I love who she's become. I love she's finally able to trust those around her, I love that she continues to fight no matter how much times life interferes, intent and making her stay down! I wanted a character who doesn't hide their emotions, a character who embraces them but is also burdened by them. I wanted a character who wore her heart on her sleeve no matter how dangerous it was especially in a cruel world.

The entryway is quiet, with no sign of anyone else being home, not even the maids. "Do you think Uncle Santos is here?" Valerie whispers, her voice still slurred. "He's still at his birthday party of course," I replied, wondering if she lost her senses as she got drunk. I led her to Vera's room, tried opening the door but it was locked, I shaked the handle for a while but it didn't open I totally forgot to ask Vera for her door card. " Jasper....I'm tired!!" Valerie broke the silence groaning. " Let's go to my room, I pull her along".