Window Shopping Tessa Bailey Novels & Stories

My husband promised we would spend Thanksgiving with my parents this year. Right before we left, he looked down at his phone and frowned. "Damn it. I forgot to change the delivery address again. Your parents' gift basket went to Cassia's place." I stood in the entryway with my fingers frozen around my scarf. For three years of marriage, Roman DeLuca had never removed Cassia Vail's address from his shopping apps. Whenever I asked him why, he always said the same thing: "Cassia and I grew up together. She’s basically family." The Italian espresso machine I wanted went to her apartment. He said her old machine had broken anyway. The sapphire bracelet for our wedding anniversary was signed for by her. He said asking for it back after she opened it would look petty. The sunflowers and baby's breath he promised me on Valentine's Day ended up in her hands. He said she had already put them in a vase, and he couldn't give me secondhand flowers. This time, I had reminded him for two weeks. The Thanksgiving basket had a low-sugar pumpkin pie, nut-free cookies, and a custom low-sodium turkey roll for my father. I had chosen every item myself. It still went to Cassia. I kept my voice steady. "Drive over and get it back." Roman's face darkened. "She already signed for it. What do you want me to do? We'll pick up wine and pastries on the way. Same thing." "It isn't the same. Get it back." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Elena, can you stop turning every little thing into a family trial? No one makes things awkward like you do." Every time something meant for me ended up with his childhood sweetheart, I asked him to get it back. Every time, I got some version of the same answer. I stopped arguing and watched him slam the door behind him. A few minutes later, I wiped my tears and texted my attorney. [Happy Thanksgiving. Please draft a divorce agreement for me. Thank you.]

There were two famous deadweights in Kingsgate's high society. One was me, Millie Tanner, the pampered little princess whose only talents were shopping and throwing parties. The other was my childhood friend, Iver Langford, the fragile young heir born with autism and congenital heart failure. However, my older brother was the most feared name in the underworld, and my second brother was the richest man in the country. Iver's older sister was the undefeated queen of the courtroom, and his second sister was a surgeon whose hands could bring back the dead. One day, the four of them were chatting over a game of poker. "Raising one hopeless case takes the same effort as two. Might as well pair them off." Just like that, Iver and I signed the marriage papers. Our married life consisted of maxing out my second brother's credit cards, raiding my older brother's dinner table, and waiting for his sisters to show up with care packages. That was the routine, until my older brother sent us to attend a banquet at the Crestport tycoon's estate in his place. At the banquet, the tycoon's daughter, Portia Beaumont, waved around a blurry photo taken from behind and insisted I was the other woman who had stolen her boyfriend. I kept my temper. "You have the wrong person. I'm married, and this is my husband." Portia lost it on the spot and swung at me. "Married and still out here throwing yourself at men?" Iver stepped in front of me on instinct and took the slap meant for me. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. She sneered, "Oh, is he slow? His wife's out cheating and he can't even tell, but he still jumps in to protect her? One's a tramp, and the other's an idiot. The perfect match!" She flicked her wrist, and several bodyguards lunged toward us. "Get them both." My heart ached as I looked at Iver, and I dialed my older brother's number. "Someone's picking on me." These people had no idea. Crossing the four terrors of Kingsgate and living to tell about it was one thing. Messing with the two of us was something else entirely.

It happened on Thanksgiving Day. I was on my way to my girlfriend's house when a car slammed straight into mine. The road was deserted, not a single person was around. The doors were jammed shut from the impact, and flames were licking toward the engine. I fumbled for the safety hammer, only to find that someone had replaced it with a toy hammer shaped like a cartoon bear. Panicking, I called my girlfriend. But before she could even pick up, her ringtone started playing from the car that had just hit me. Luna Hill stepped out, hand in hand with her childhood sweetheart, Julian Ford. Julian put on a show of alarm. "Oh no, I'm such an idiot! My first time driving, and I already hit a car." When Luna saw that it was me in the crushed car, she quickly tried to calm him down. "It's fine. He probably did it on purpose." I pounded on the window, shouting for her. "Luna, the safety hammer's been switched out! Please, help me get out!" Julian burst into a grin. "Sebastian, that was me! The little bear hammer's adorable, isn't it?" Luna's face twisted in disgust. "You're fine. Stop being dramatic. Figure it out yourself." Thick smoke was billowing inside the car, and it was about to explode. I begged her to get me out. Julian chuckled. "Sebastian, are you cooking in there or what? That smoke's killing me!" He patted his stomach and said with a laugh, "Man, I'm starving. Luna, let's go home and eat." Luna hooked her arm through his and tossed a parting line over her shoulder. "Enough already. My parents are waiting for us to start dinner." Just as I was about to pass out from the smoke, I slammed my hand on the car's emergency button.

We all think monsters are just stories. I thought so too. My life in New York was normal. Art, school, my mom, my fiancé —everything made sense. Until my twenty-first birthday, that fortunate morning, I woke up to see symbols carved into my walls, drawn by my own hands while I sleep. Symbols I still don’t understand.. but somehow feel. I start to see flashes of a ginger hair in a crowd, a shadow lurking outside my window, a presence that never leaves. I told myself I was imagining it. Until the night i followed that feeling into a club.. and watched my stalker stab, behead and murder something that looks human but isn’t. Now my mother is gone. My world starts to fall apart. Creatures I can’t explain start hunting me. And my stalker with beautiful, amber eyes—the one who carries a blade like it’s part of him—becomes my morally grey hero. Vaelora Clarke’s life shatters the moment she discovers the Shadow World— a hidden society of demon hunters, vampires, werewolves and creatures that should only have existed in imaginations. Thrown into a dangerous reality she was meant never to remember, Vaelora must uncover the truth about her past, her missing mother, and the mysterious power awakening inside her. At the center of it all is Zane Mystralyn. He’s lethal, possessive and obsessed with keeping her safe. He was raised as a ruthless demon hunter, he was taught to hunt, to kill, to feel nothing. But Vaelora, his little red, was the one thing he was never trained to resist. As dark forces close in and an ancient artifact becomes the key to everything, Vaelora has to embrace the truth about her past and above all, the blood that runs through her veins.

Everywhere becomes silent as every single pair of eyes turn to us and although I'm used to attention, it's never been in this type of situation and I find myself wondering how to handle it. All worries fly out the window though when Hunter grabs my hand after locking his car. Murmurs erupt in every angle of the school ground at his actions and I glance at Hunter only to see a look of determination on his face. What is he up to? He suddenly turns me towards him and traps me against the car door. "You're right, we need to clear one misunderstanding" he states his breath fanning my face. "And what would that be?" I breath out already dazed by him. Get a grip Daisy, you're out in public! "That you are mine and all other boys can fuck off" He answers hoarsely just as he finally closes the space between us and takes my lips for a world-rocking kiss. ************* Daisy Heart is a friendly heiress with great friends who just wants to have a good high school experience. She thinks everything is beautiful except the heir to the Stone Empire: Hunter Stone. Hunter Stone is a playboy Heir who just wants to have a good time while young before responsibilities come knocking. He thinks everything is fun except the heiress to the Heart group of Hotels: Daisy Heart. After being forced into being partners and roommates for a school camp project, Hunter and Daisy are determined to make each other's life hell. The undeniable attraction between them certainly doesn't help. To make things worse, Hunter also knows that Daisy has feelings for his best friend. Sequel to series of fights, failed pranks and arguments, fate offers to deal a final blow to the situation. An arranged marriage.

The biggest mistake I had ever made was falling in love with my Alpha stepbrother, Cayden Gates. I was 12 when my mom remarried, and he was the only one in the new pack who treated me kindly. I fell for him at first sight. When I was 16, I was attacked by rogue wolves, and he fought off ten of them alone to protect me. At 18, he was poisoned by silver. He nearly died. That was when my wolf told me he was my fated mate. Without hesitation, I donated my bone marrow to save him. That night, watching him asleep with a pale face, I couldn't help but kiss the corner of his lips. He opened his eyes at that exact moment, his face flushing red. "Tessa, we're siblings. You shouldn't cross that line." From then on, he started avoiding me, like I was a mistake he couldn't afford to make. His fiancée, Rosie Lloyd, had been diagnosed with a rare blood disease, and I was the only compatible donor. For the first time, he pleaded with me. "If you're willing to save her, I'll agree to anything." But I was already weak from the marrow transplant. Giving blood again might kill me. I said no, and Rosie died in the end. He didn't shed a single tear, like nothing had happened. But at her funeral, he smashed the portrait I'd painted of him in front of everyone and said coldly, "How filthy of you to dream of being with your own brother." Later, I became a disgrace, a walking joke. Humiliation and despair swallowed me whole, and in a haze, I fell into the lake and drowned. When I open my eyes again, I'm back at the moment he begs me for blood. I say yes calmly. I consider it the final debt I owe the Gates family. Cayden, from now on, we're done. There are no more ties between us.

In order to coerce me into getting married, my grandpa dials my number 20 times in a row so that he can annoy me into flying back to the country. "There's a curse running in our family. If a family member doesn't get married by the time they turn 25, they will definitely suffer from a fate worse than death!" I can hear how anxious Grandpa is. Although it's another one of those excuses that I'm so sick of hearing, I still choose to yield to his wishes. I complete my master's thesis defense a month in advance just so I can surprise Grandpa with my presence. One week later, I fly back to my home country. Shockingly enough, a stranger stops me from entering my own home. "Unauthorized people aren't allowed entry. People like you have no right to meet Mr. Gardner Senior. Leave now, or else don't blame me for being rough with you!" I take off my sunglasses to make out the man's features. He turns out to be Jake Ferrell, Grandpa's bodyguard. The thing is, Jake should be loyal to me, so why is he threatening violence against me right now? Then, I watch as Jake opens the door of a limousine, which is parked outside the manor. He holds an umbrella with one hand as he bows slightly to the owner. "Please get out of the car, miss," he says respectfully. Through the car window, I can make out the features of the young woman sitting inside the car. She happens to be Rosalie Gardner, my best friend—the very same woman who has gotten expelled from college because of her laziness and has managed to land a job in Gardner Corporation thanks to my recommendation.

Six years ago, he looked at her once and decided she belonged to him.Kammie wanted only three things in life:write a bestseller, buy a villa, and die filthy rich. Being hunted by a masked stranger was never part of the plan.But the night his eyes found hers through the tinted window of a black car, something inside her changed forever. He never told her his name.Never showed his face. Only appeared in the dark like a beautiful curse she couldn’t escape. And somehow.. His touch awakened the worst parts of her, the reckless side of her,the addicted parts. Six years later, she returns to the same country she once fled from.One week after her cheating ex-boyfriend is delivered to her doorstep dead. No explanation.Just blood, silence and fear crawling beneath her skin. What Kammie doesn’t realize is that her stranger never stopped watching. Not when she cried. Not when she loved another man. Not even when she ran. And now? Now she’s exactly where he wants her. Alone. Vulnerable. Untouchable to everyone except him. Her ex is gone. The distance is gone. And the obsession he buried for six years has returned hungrier than ever. She tries to run, but her stranger doesn’t just enjoy the chase He lives for it. Kammie knows she should be terrified. But the most dangerous thing about him isn’t the stalking, the masks, or the bodies left behind in his wake. It’s the fact that every time he touches her… She wants more. Because Kammie was never the kind of girl who trembled in fear.She was the kind who became addicted to it. And falling for her stranger? That was the most terrifying thing of all.

Complete!!!!!! She grew in wealth without the love she needed the most. In a world with customs and traditions, her upbringing was her destruction. She was trained to make men bend their knees at the sight of her smile yet she bores pure innocence. Then, she was sold to the highest bidder for what her family calls an initiation before she turns a woman. What would happen to her? Would she fall in love to the enigmatic prince who bought her? What would happen if she delve herself on her darkest desires? ...... Hot breath tickled my nose and the smell of my favorite vanilla potpourri filled me. I opened my eyes. Gray met me, like a cluster of angry clouds. "Good morning," the guy whispered in my face. His proximity made me hold my breath. The guy won the bidding and I wasn't wrong. His stare held intensity. He backed down, going to his seat, across from mine. My head snapped to the side; the morning lights seeped through the window beside me. White cumulus clouds parted as the plane flew us above the horizon. I must be asleep for too long that they were able to transfer me from the helicopter to the plane. I snapped back my attention to the guy, "What's your name?" I asked the first question that popped in my mind, being able to let go of the building tensions. "I'm An--" A chuckle escaped from the guy. "No need for proper introductions but as you initiated. I am Yulian." He scratched his chin, looking for my reactions, his thick accent indicated Russian descent. "And you, milady is going to be Mi Eliza, my wife." "Wife? But--" I stopped couldn’t able to form the right words to say. "For a year, yes."

Everyone in the circle called me the chatty woman around Wilson Lewis, who had poor hearing and was notoriously aloof. I would stand up for him, take drinks on his behalf, and accompany him to the hospital. When he had to get his hearing aid adjusted, I would crouch beside the table to replace its batteries for him, yet he never so much as looked up at me. One time, I drank on his behalf until I was dead drunk at a wine party, but he only glanced down at me calmly. Another time, I spent the entire morning waiting with him on the day of his follow-up checkup, but he texted his unattainable love, Noelle Surrey, instead. Wilson: [Have you eaten lunch yet?] During our three years of marriage, I became a joke in the eyes of others. On the night of our wedding anniversary, he wanted to make things up for the birthday celebration he owed me. When I was being dragged away through the back alley of a convenience store, I saw him sitting in the Maybach parked at the alley entrance through the half-open car window, unboxing a cake. I screamed until my throat bled, my fingernails digging into the wall. He glanced up at the alleyway entrance, took off his hearing aid, and put it in his pocket. When I got home in the wee hours, he was still helping Noelle with her resume. Seeing my disheveled state, he just frowned and said, "Jaclyn Scott, can you please stop making such a scene every time?" Noelle chuckled on the other end of the phone. "Wilson, is she playing victim again?" I pushed the divorce papers and a USB drive in front of him. "Wilson, I'm done making a scene. This time, it's your turn to listen."