Vance Black Phone Novels & Stories

On the morning of my wedding, I found a saved voice message on Elliot Mercer's phone. It was only four seconds long, barely long enough to matter, yet the girl's voice filled the bridal suite as if she had stepped into the room herself. "I miss you, Elliot. I know I shouldn't." The makeup artist had just finished pinning the last pearl into my hair. My dress was zipped, my veil was hanging over the back of a chair, and downstairs, two hundred guests were waiting for me to marry the man I had loved for seven years. Elliot stood behind me in the mirror, already dressed in his black tuxedo. "She was drunk," he said. "It happened after the firm retreat. Someone dared her to send it." I checked their messages with shaking hands. Case notes. Coffee orders. Court schedules. Her apologies whenever she needed him again. His replies, patient and calm, as if being needed by her had become part of his day. There was nothing explicit. That almost made it worse. I couldn't point to one sentence and call it betrayal. I could only feel the space she had taken from me, quietly and steadily, while I was busy trusting him. My tears fell onto the lace of my dress. "Block her," I said. "Block Tessa now, and I'll still walk down that aisle." Elliot looked at me for a long moment. Then he took the phone from my hand. "After the ceremony, I'll have her moved off my cases," he said. "You have my word." Seven years together, and I still wanted his word to mean something. Then his phone rang. He looked down, and I saw Tessa's name before he turned the screen away. A second later, her text appeared. I'm outside. I can't breathe. Please don't make me do this alone. Elliot's face changed. I caught his wrist before he could reach the door. "If you leave this room," I said, my voice trembling, "don't come back expecting me to marry you." For one second, he looked like the choice hurt him. Then he peeled my fingers from his sleeve, one by one, and walked out of the bridal suite.

My best friend had borrowed money from me 220 times in a single year. Sometimes it was $50 for groceries. Sometimes it was $5,000 for appliances, cookware, or furniture. I knew he was broke, and I knew life had been hard on him, so I never made a big deal out of it. Then one day, while we were shopping together, my phone died. I asked him to cover a $2.50 bottle of water for me. He said, "Your phone always dies when it is time to pay. Could you make it any more obvious that you are trying to freeload?" It was the first time I had ever asked him to pay for anything.

It’s already hard being Black in America, but it’s even tougher surviving America as a Black Vampire.N, who is a vampire, has been on a long search finding the police officer who killed his family and cut off his tongue when he was young. He believes that the cop is in Virginia and goes on a grueling battle to find him. But he also falls in love, meet other unique Black Vampires like him, and leads a revolution to end police brutality and racism.

Being a poor part-timer, Tynan could only afford a rip-off version of the i-phone called the G-phone. Never in his wildest dreams would he think of getting married to his phone - to be more precise, the thing living in his phone. She claims to be the E-Ghost residing in the G-phone who surpasses AI like Cortana simply because she possesses intellect of her own. Meet Laura, the ghost that lives in a cell phone. Part spirit and part technology, she makes the perfect life companion Tynan could ever ask for. Their problem? The G-phone is on a one year warranty. While they are busy overcoming their dimensional love barrier, G-phone calls. They want to take the phone back. Can Tynan and Laura 'live' happily ever after? ***

[This month’s property management fee is $1,500. Please make the payment on time.] My wife, Grace Anderson’s phone screen lit up. I glanced at it and then took the phone. “Did the management office miscalculate this? Our management fee should only total up to $28 a month.” Grace stood up abruptly and tried to snatch her phone back. “He must’ve miscalculated! Let me talk to him.” However, I had already clicked on the link and read the page. [Cloud Mansion, property owner: Ken Smith.] The young male nanny cooking in our kitchen had the same name. Something snapped in my brain. The three of us were living in a very small house, but Grace had bought a mansion for our manny!

In her first life, he took everything from her. Now, in this life, she demands her revenge. Evelyn King was the perfect pawn in high society, a demure, devoted fiancée to billionaire heir Julian Vance, blissfully unaware of the corruption lurking behind his charming smile. But everything changes after a deadly, rigged car crash and the agonizing discovery of Julian’s affair with her childhood best friend, Chloe. Evelyn sees the brutal truth: her marriage was a setup, her wealth a target, and her death orchestrated for profit. Instead of fading into oblivion, she wakes up ten years in the past, on the morning of the Vance Summer Gala, the night Julian plans to announce their engagement and trap her forever. Refusing to play the pawn, Evelyn makes a bold, deadly choice. She leaves behind the boy dressed in pretenses and walks straight to Arthur Vance Julian's estranged and ruthless father, a formidable financial titan ruling high society with an iron fist. Armed with secrets from her previous life, including a dark ledger revealing that Julian isn't even Arthur’s biological son, Evelyn proposes a scandalous marriage of convenience. By uniting her family's voting power with Arthur's, they aim to strip Julian of his inheritance before he even realizes the war has begun. The society is appalled. Julian’s fury spirals into madness, a psychotic rage convinced Evelyn is a greedy viper who stole his birthright. Yet, what Julian and the media fail to see is that Evelyn’s alliance with Arthur is more than a scheme for money; she’s stepping into a den of wolves. As they delve into a decades-old family conspiracy, the icy contract between them begins to ignite with a dangerous, possessive passion.

For our graduation trip, the three of us traveled to Iceland to watch the aurora borealis. During the trek, my best friend Chloe Bennett’s scarf was swept away by the howling wind. Without a second thought, my boyfriend Valen Vance stripped off his own heavy scarf and wrapped her up tight in it. Turning to me, he said, “Hurry up and help Chloe fetch it. You know that’s her favorite scarf.” I braved the biting, freezing wind alone, chasing it for a long time. By the time I finally retrieved the scarf and turned around, the northern lights had already vanished from the sky—and Valen and Chloe were no longer where I left them. My phone buzzed with a text from him: “You were taking too long. Chloe is afraid of the cold, so I brought her back to the hotel first.” Stranded in a foreign country, I stood at the crossroad for six grueling hours, waving down over twenty passing cars. Finally, someone took pity on me and gave me a ride. When I stumbled back into the hotel well past midnight, shivering and entirely frozen to the bone, I found them curled up under a thick blanket, huddled close together as they looked over the photos they had taken that day. They were laughing and chatting about photography and the northern lights—a conversation I was permanently locked out of. Noticing me, Valen merely frowned. “What took you so long? I made a mug of hot tea for you over there. Go warm yourself up.” I wrapped my numb fingers around the mug. The tea inside had gone ice-cold hours ago. At that moment, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion settled deep into my chest. Fine, then. I booked the earliest flight out, canceled the rest of our hotel reservations, and decided right then to leave. The northern lights I spent a lifetime chasing were never meant for me. There was no need to chase them anymore.

Two rival architects are forced to co-design a library in a city that holds the secrets of their shared past. “Elias Thorne builds walls to keep the world out. Clara Vance designs windows to let the light in. When a prestigious commission forces them together, they realize that the hardest thing to build isn't a landmark—it’s a bridge between two broken hearts.”

Just one phone call. One phone call was all it took for Navaeh's Last year in High School to take a drastic change. Who was on the other end of the phone? What are we talking about? The one thing everyone in Silva High doesn't know about Navaeh, their popular, straight A's student is revealed to one person through the phone call. The cherry on top was the fact that it wasn't Navaeh's friend but an old acquaintance was the one that found out. Meet Quinnel Ashford, the Basketball team Captain and Navaeh's infamous old Acquaintance, the person on the other end of the phone. Navaeh didn't see any reason as to why the whole school had to know her own personal issues and so she kept it away from them for the past three years but now Quinnel Ashford knows. The popular bastard. They were friends when they were young, best friends if you may, but all it takes was deceit and... anger for them to break apart. What exactly happened 13 years ago that made Navaeh decide that she wasn't ever going to talk to Quinnel ever again? Now the question was, why did Quinnel Ashford call Navaeh Thatcher that day when they weren't on speaking terms and will he keep her secret from the whole school and let her graduate with no drama or reveal it? But then... The secret is out. Everyone in the school knows. Uh-oh. Who revealed her secret? The one person apart from her two twin younger sisters that knew about it was Quinnel. Will Navaeh find the truth or just blatantly refuse to see anything and turn her back on her new best friend and crush, Quinnel like he had done 13 years ago? Did Quinnel keep her secret till the end?

Drenched in mud, I've just climbed down the scaffolding and started munching on a cold piece of stale bread when a luxury car speeds past me, effectively drenching me in muddy water. The car window on the driver's side is quickly lowered. A sleazy guy hurls a pack of cigarettes in my face the next moment. "Hey, peasant! This is a reward for you! I got really lucky today, after all!" While I pick up the cigarette pack silently, the man happens to be boasting loudly to the woman sitting in the front passenger seat. "My brother-in-law really is an idiot! He seriously thinks that my sister has a terminal disease! He went to the black market last night night just to sell his blood in exchange for 200 thousand dollars' worth of surgical fees! I end up winning double in the casino with that money of his! "My sister told me that once that idiot gets his hands on the work injury compensation, she'll divorce him right away and buy me a new home!" I grip the bread so hard that it crumples in my hand. After all, my wife, Estella Wilson, was just diagnosed with "late-stage stomach cancer" yesterday. Suddenly, I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket. It's a voice message from Estella. "Hubby, it hurts so much going through the chemotherapy! The doctor told me that I'd be eligible for better medication if we could cough up another 200 thousand dollars. Can you please plead to the foreman and borrow some money from him?"