You Marianne Novels & Stories

Yvana I leave the small room where Maïeil is kept then I take the road to my apartment. I didn't come with my driver, but rather with one of my guys that I use to do some dirty work. I have to go and continue doing my body care to be radiant on my wedding day. I won't let Maïeil or anyone else ruin my marriage. I am determined to go all the way. It's not when I'm ready for the goal that this skin of glue will come and fuck up my projects. As soon as I manage to have the wave put on my finger, I intend to wait a few days to announce to Dinam that I had a faintness which caused a miscarriage. Fortunately, Doctor Maurice is present, he will take care of everything.

Zeidan pressed the doorbell twice and the door was opened by the white-haired wife of Dan, Marianne. She was wearing a purple simple long-sleeved cotton dress that reached her knee and had an apron around her waist. "Hi, Marianne." "Hello, Zeidan. Do come in, Dan has been expecting you. And Roderigo." She opened the door wider so he could enter and his nostrils were filled with grilled cheese, maple, bacon, and also french fries.

Then he lay back and watched the drama unfold. "If you go out, must you find an opportunity where you can let Zac know about your whereabouts? I don't think he is going to marry you just to take revenge on Zac," Marianne muttered between her coughs. Katherine's gaze was definitely on Givon, but she did not miss a single word Marianne had told her. "There is something Marianne needs hands for. So I want you to close the door and wait for me," Katherine told Givon, and took her eyes to Marianne, placing the glass to her lips to help her drink.

Until then, I'll continue to annoy the hell out of Marianna *****************************************

"You rascal! Always giving this old lady such surprises. Aren't you afraid I might not be mentally prepared and get too excited? I could have a heart attack from all this joy!" Marianne was dizzy with unexpected happiness, feeling weak in the knees as she remained seated on the couch. "Couldn't you have given your grandmother some warning?" Marianne was overjoyed; though her words were complaints, her face was creased with smiles. "You just registered today? Where's the marriage certificate? Let me see it!"

He opened the door; a middle-aged woman stood outside holding a folder. She smiled politely. “Good morning.” “Morning,” Ruin replied. “I was hoping to speak with Elara.” She said. I looked up from the dining table, and the woman immediately smiled at me. "Mrs Cross?” “Yes,” I whispered. Relief crossed her face. “Good. I was worried I might have the wrong address.” Ruin stepped aside, the woman entered, and she introduced herself as Marianne; she managed a local community centre located several towns away. After sitting down, she opened her folder.

Marian reflected as she watched him and issued silent prayers to the moon goddess and any other gods who could hear her plea. Please, please, Reyland. Accept me! She begged with all her might, inside her mind. Reyland’s eyes snapped to her. “What?” he asked slowly, almost like he was in a daze. Marian tilted her head. “What?” she replied inquiringly. “What…did you…say?” he elaborated, his eyes searching her face. “I –” her eyes widened. And she placed a hand on his round shoulder. “What did you hear?!” she asked excitedly.

"Marianna needs to make something of herself. She is going to college. I believe she will meet a fair share of men. For your sake, I hope she keeps her knees clasped." I doubt she will and not because she's loose, not at all. I think she has standards but who sits around waiting for a man married to his work? Especially when there are men like Wayne Bellingerre on the lose just tempting her to give in? "If you're talking about Wayne-"

Julianne smiled and said, “Be calm. You were the one regretting missing out on the fun things. You can as well make up for it by attending this and every other one.” “Well, this isn’t fun,” she said. “The only thing you get is topless boys being reckless with each other, yelling and sweats dripping from their bodies.” Julianne gave her a suspicious look. “What?” Marianne asked. “You talk like you’ve watched this particular one before.” “No,” Marianne denied but her flushed cheeks betrayed her. “You gave details.” “I told you I study people a lot,” Marianne rolled her eyes and continue walking. “That looks like a lot of studying to me,” Julianne said after her.

Muted jazz played in the background, soft and slow, the kind that usually helped me focus. But today, my attention kept slipping. I’d reread the same paragraph three times. Typed and deleted the same sentence twice. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, unmoving. Then Marianne walked in. She was dressed elegantly, as always — a cream blouse tucked into tailored slacks, gold earrings catching the light, her hair swept into a low twist. She looked like she’d just stepped out of a magazine spread, not skipped a family golf outing. I glanced up. “Why didn’t you go with Grandpa and Dad today?”