The Pampered Granddaughter - HeatherNaive

The Pampered Granddaughter

By HeatherNaive

Prologue

Some lives are lived like seeds buried too deep in the wrong soil, struggling toward a light that never seems to reach them, withering despite their desperate attempts to grow. For years, I had been such a seed, planted in practical earth that could never nourish the delicate, feminine soul that yearned to bloom within me.

“Liam! Come here!” I hear a voice yell, making me grunt as my eyelids flicker open and I take in my surroundings — my bedroom in Sonia’s flat, with bright sunlight streaming through a gap in my curtains. However, it isn’t Sonia who’s calling me. “Liam! I haven’t got all day!”

Lorek must have carried him out, because Tano didn't remember the trip back.

He woke up in the Duke's palace in a large feather bed, feeling only moderately like death, which was admittedly an improvement. When Tano groaned and forced his eyes open, he saw Doctor Banu - a gnome who had served as the Duke's personal physician for many years - sitting by the side of his bed.

"Ah! You're awake!" Banu exclaimed, his weathered, brown face crinkling into a smile that made him look like a dried apple.

I came to lying on a bed in a small, very neat, cabin. Danny was dabbing my forehead with a wet towel.

“Hi Doll, you gave me a bit of a fright there!”

“Where am I?”

“Lying on my bed”

The security men each had a small cabin off the security office.

“Not my preferred way to end up in your bed!”

I was beginning to recover.

Danny grinned, reached out a hand and helped me sit up.

“Are you ok? You just fainted as we were talking”…

“Sorry, you just gave me a fright!”

“Me? What did I do?”

Dido took the appearance of what to her was an obvious police officer on her course in her stride. She had nothing to hide other than her story from before she met John Proudfoot. Her decision to ‘go straight’ had caused a certain amount of joviality amongst those Met Police Officers who had encountered Dido during her time as a very skilful pickpocket in central London.

This is a collection of Whateley Academy vignettes which focuses on various background and supporting characters, giving a brief glimpse into each of their lives.

http://whateleyacademy.net/index.php

Coach Wilson was not a boy, any more than I was.

I was getting very tired of hospitals.

Chapter 16

The four girls had the same room as before, so settled down easily. For Willow, it was like having a slumber party without late night movies, her second in a week. In the morning, they had breakfast in the dining room and then went to get ready. Back in the reception, the band looked as if they were about to perform. The outfits were great, fitted well, and made them stand out from the crowd. Jim Jamieson was non-plussed. He hadn’t been to their shows and had never seen Summer Rose play except for the school concerts.

After a serious bit of hugging, or maybe strangling, by our girl, he passed her to her brother as Enfys set his lid onto a bunk. Settling himself onto a chair after doffing his jacket, he simply held out a hand as Alys placed a cup into it.

“How was the ride, Neil?”

“Not a bad one, mate, but I’m on the Beemer today, so took it a bit more gently. Club tonight?”

Threads of Truth

A Transgender Coming of Age Romance

From the Harmony Aspirant Universe

Chapter 7: The Rally

By Ariel Montine Strickland

How will Kiki restore and model the dress of Clara Brown?

Copyright 2025 by Ariel Montine Strickland.
All Rights Reserved.

A Grumpy Old Man’s Tale 66 Storm Éolwenna

Alf was smiling as he said, “Gee, the bottom line for us here is your missus, despite being like all women a pain in the arse from time to time, is a good lass. Trust me she was nay different when she was a little lass, feisty didn’t even nick the edge of it. I mind when she first started learning to weld with me, four stone wringing wet through, [25Kg, 56 pounds] and scarce taller than my knees she was. That day she ran into my workshop to escape from some lads as were bullying her. She’d a bin seven and was wearing a summer frock. One of the boys followed her in. I’d never seen a fifteen year old lad laid out cold by a little lass with a tyre lever before. That’s many a day back, but you can still see where she brock his jaw in three places. No bugger ever tormented her for being trans and wearing a frock after that. Samantha is a good Bearthwaite lass. She’s an excellent wife and an even better mum. I don’t even want te think on what she’d do to any as threat her kids, and that’s what counts.”