Seaglass Cottage Novels & Stories

Before going i saw my reflection in the mirror and whispered to myself, “Damn, your girl looks so fine. I’m not about to play with this position.” In about 10 minutes, I arrived at Vans and Sterling Company — and boy, this place was flashy. From the security men dressed in all black uniforms who happily opened the doors for me, to the gleaming polished floors and sky- high walls, I instantly knew I hit the jackpot with this position. “Thank you, Jesus,” I whispered under my breath, fully aware that it was only through Him that I had gotten this spot.

that was what he had told her…when they had shared their first kiss. She still knew that it was her and Solomon’s secret. The Spirit Walker and the Soul Walker together was nothing more than a disaster brewing and then they had both ruined it. The small cottage was perched on the plain near the woods, so old and poor that it was surprising how it was still standing. And yet it seemed alive and welcoming, a warm ribbon of smoke rising from the old chimney. The walls were made of the same wood and the roof was clearly stone, so old that it was a wonder how it did not yet cave in. The cottage was the only thing there. There were no other houses around it, and this one would have looked abandone

The waves crashed against the shore, creating a soothing symphony that serenaded us on our journey. Soon, we arrived at our beach house, nestled in a secluded corner of the island. It was a charming two-story cottage with a thatched roof, painted in soft pastel colors that blended harmoniously with the natural surroundings. The house stood just a few steps away from a pristine white sand beach, inviting us to kick off our shoes and feel the warm grains beneath our feet. This was totally amazing.

Nico said, his tone quiet, deliberate. I quirked a brow, glancing at the SUV parked just behind ours. “What about the guards?” “You won’t even know they’re here,” Nico said, looking amused. “Right,” I murmured, letting him lead me by the hand, “Sure I won’t.” We walked down a cobblestone path framed by small lanterns that were just beginning to flicker on, and soon the cottage came into view. It was tucked between two sloping hills, surrounded by wild lavender and olive trees, made of warm stone and dark wood, with soft lights glowing from the windows and ivy crawling across the walls. A little terrace wrapped around the side, overlooking the vineyard.

"Aye aye, Captain." I returned to my essay, the words flowing more easily now. The beauty of sea-glass is not that it endures the pounding, but that it is transformed by it. It does not 'survive' as a bottle. It becomes something entirely new, its value derived not from its original purpose, but from its journey...

He ended the call, and I admired myself a little longer in the mirror, before blowing a kiss at it and picking up my purse. This was going to be another beautiful day. …… When Ray had mentioned a holiday "cottage", I had known better than to imagine an actual cottage. The "cottage" was a massive building almost the size of the Domitia mansion. 'Hold on a second,' I thought, 'is every family in Goldcrest City richer than the Domitias or something?' Ray hurried to meet me as soon as I walked into the garden. I was surprised when she hugged me warmly, smiling the whole time.

#PagesI'llDeleteLater" THE END. ------------------ Hey guys, Thank you all so much for reading this book THE GLASS WIFE. Thank you for your time, energy, money😂, I do not take it for granted. To everyone that commented, gifted, sent out gems, (If you haven't, please do😏) thank you all so much. I appreciate. But this is not the end, I'll be writing more books, improving myself and I hope to see you there too! Especially on my current book, CHOKEHOLD. Updates there will be now more frequent. Thank you everyone! Much Love 😘😘😘

She added again, after getting no reply from us. "Hurry up, I don't want us to still remain here by sundown. It's so odd that we never came across any of the septic." Over the past few days, I realized they only came out at night. We could see the coarse, unevenly sized grey stones that made up the walls. As we got closer, the occasional flash of colour- some black, others blue or green, emerged from the gray stone that looked like eyes trying to steal a glimpse of the world. The cottage hunkered low like a child in the element, trying to keep warm. Yet it looked alive and welcoming, with a thin silver trail, coming from the crooked stone chimney.

" Could we find a place nearby? I mean, maybe we could live here?" At that, Logan motioned for one of the teachers to watch over Gemma, gesturing for me to follow him as he walked towards the fluffy white clouds in the distance. My pulse quickened as we approached a quaint little cottage that sat just at the edge of the clearing. It was painted a soft blue, with white shutters that framed the windows perfectly. A garden stretched out before it, blooming with wildflowers, and beyond it lay a shimmering lake that caught the sunlight like a thousand diamonds. "Poppy," he said softly, his voice brimming with excitement. "What do you think?"

"Come in." "Are you sure? We don't want to interrupt—" "You're already interrupting." Sarra's voice was flat. "Might as well come all the way in." Isabelle hesitated, then led Amélie inside. The little girl's eyes went wide as she looked around the cottage—the exposed beams, the stone fireplace, the windows overlooking the ocean in daylight. "It's so pretty," she breathed. "Like a fairy tale house."