Vera Stanhope Books Novels & Stories

The longer this went on, the more suspicious things I found about her. This time, I didn't even acknowledge her tears. Leaving was the best choice. *** The Vermont Estate was much quieter than I expected. A servant opened the door. Brita. It felt like forever since I'd last seen her. She looked surprised and awkward as she welcomed me. Her face was confused, and she glanced left and right several times. I had no idea what she was looking for. “Lord Ashbourne.” “I want to see Seraphina.” She hesitated, seemingly unsure whether to let me in. Before she could answer, a woman's voice came from inside.

She wiped her tears and started making vegetable soup. "I'm not really unwanted or abandoned." She smiled through unstoppable tears as she worked on the soup. *** Black Bone Pack, Vera arrived in the early morning when the son wasn't even out. She directly went to the pack's woods in search of clues that might lead her to the rogues. 'There’s a sharp smell of urine here. Ugh, it's horrible! But I'll follow it.' Bill said over the link and ran away from the rest of the team. 'Don't try to attack alone. Return with info, okay.' Vera told him on the link as the thudding on his paws resounded in her ears.

Paws running at medium speed through the soft grass, without any fuss. The muzzle searching the ground and the air for the scent of its prey, while its ears hear distinct sounds here and there. Voices and the smell of food flowed through the waves of the wind, but the seemingly ordinary wolf in dark fur moves on. The prey is close by, the smell of food and of them reached the snout of the bats coming through the sky. Vera is in the kitchen depositing a pinch of rice in the palm of her hand to taste it. Upstairs Veronica is sitting at the desk in front of the window, writing something in what looks like a diary - a small lilac velvet notebook with black and pink details - and in her hand a pe

He would stay the Duke and I would be the moth hero to help him turn the eyes from his disappearances. I wasn’t fond of reading but there were several books on a big bookshelf; Veronica was the complete opposite of me, a bookworm. Most were works of philosophy, mathematics, science and other topics of importance. They existed to show much of a reader Veronica was. To the outward eyes, they appeared harmless, books no one would ever be interested in. Twelve tomes of plants attracted my attention; she was like my sister Dina. I remembered how the Duke and Fredden talked to me about her; she was a villain, someone they didn’t want to associate with anymore. I thought Veronica would never care f

“Tals, I’m so sorry, I..” “Vera. What the actual hell?!” Vera blinked. “What?” “Don’t ‘what’ me. You disappeared off the face of the earth. You didn’t answer any of my calls or texts. And now, now I wake up to headlines, girl! Headlines!” Vera’s blood ran cold. “What headlines?” she asked, a sinking feeling crawling up her spine. “Oh, you mean you haven’t seen them?!” Talia shrieked. “You're literally everywhere. T*****r, I*******m, those gossip blogs you pretend you don’t stalk at night? It’s like Vera Sinclair exploded onto the scene.”

ON MY PROFESSOR’S BED. Chapter 112. Author’s Pov. “I don't know who this is, but she….” Stefan’s words trailed off as he scanned Vera from head to toe before giving way for Elena and the rest of the people in the room to see the pretty-looking Vera who was standing by the door, dressed in a black gown and a flower verse her hand, as well as Late Mr. Damon Alcantar’s Assistant. Michael. “Vera!” Nanny Ella stood up angrily and began to approach the door.

End of Book 1 === Coming soon (ongoing): The Hunted Wolf (Eva’s book) Blue Thunder: Forging the Legend (book 2) Biting the Eternal Love (Veronica’s book) In plans (plot outlines in development): Gus’s book (no title yet) Blue Thunder: Raising the Legacy (book 3) Hendrick’s book (no title yet, to pick up when the book of Veronica ends) Potential plans (synopsis written): Victoria’s book Raymond’s book Audrey’s book

Stana's fury intensified at that. Even though she had gotten to the bottom of things, she didn't have any concrete evidence. No matter how she looked into it, she failed to find any ironclad proof. "If you don't have proof, then why did you treat me like this?" Suzanne was more and more convinced that she'd left no loose ends when she saw how silent Stana was being. It seemed like Stana was only suspicious but not certain. She shouted, "Call the police! I want to report this!"

"Apparently." "Come in." The house was full of books. Not as decoration — as occupation, books on every surface in the particular configuration of someone who reads continuously and has long since stopped trying to contain the process. A reading chair near the window with the light positioned correctly. A desk with a manuscript box open on it. The smell of old paper and something being kept alive. Vera made tea with the efficiency of someone who had been doing it for eighty years and had long since optimized the process. She brought it to the sitting room and sat across from Lila and looked at the manila envelope in Lila's hands.

Her heart pounded as she glanced at Peter, afraid the noise had woken him. But he didn’t stir. She exhaled in relief. Then, her eyes drifted to the open stove, where flames crackled and popped. A thought struck her. If a fire broke out, the village would come running. Vera dumped him on the kitchen floor and grabbed a pile of firewood. She tossed a bundle onto the spilled whiskey. Whoosh! The flames surged over a meter high. She added more dry grass and kindling. Then, covering her nose and mouth, she bolted.