Luna Christopher: A Narrative Fiction

Initially, she tries to compose herself by proceeding to the kitchen to seemingly bring food to her

Trying not to laugh, she begins scrunching up one side of her face so as the corner of her lips try and touch her eye.

with her wherever she goes. She begins to talk in her sleep, frantically wringing her hands together as she laments that they

“I guess we will need a bed,” she commented “we can 't expect anything from her.” She mumbled under her breath.

“Let us stay for a night, I am so tired and hungry.” Pleaded Polina, stunned by his cruel voice, “And where can I take him?”

Lila lay on her bed staring at the ceiling thinking over the events of the evening. The more she recalled, the more she was mortified for acting like a love sick, slobbering idiot in front of not only the most beautiful man she’d ever met, but he was her best friends cousin of all things! Lila groaned, burying her head into her pillow. She tried to console herself by thinking she would never see him again. She could avoid him by simply not going back there. It wouldn’t be too difficult to do. She would never have the guts to venture to a club like that on her own. This is exactly the reason that Rachael had taken her there. Lila was trying to convince herself he was charming to all the ladies. He worked at a night club. Of course he would

As she is off the ground she tears up and puts her head against the window.

“Hello,” He says in a voice in a voice that is both deep and as sweet as honey.

She lays there holding her head in pain, Her eyes wide open, fear covering her features. Time flies by and suddenly minutes later she slowly and

Isabel Allende, born on August 2, 1942, in Lima, Peru is a well known latino writer.. Her father and mother were Chilean; her father, Tomás Allende, was a diplomat and first cousin of Salvador Allende, the president of Chile from 1970 to 1973.Isabel Allende uses her storytelling ability to help her survive a succession of hardships, and she eventually makes her living as a writer. The transformative power of words and stories is one of the major themes of the novel. Her novel, The Stories of Eva Luna, happen to be a great example of this.

My name is Diana Jimenez I’m currently twenty-one years old. Since I was young I would always say I would be the first to attend college no matter what it took. Although I did not make it to a university I was still determined to reach my dreams no matter how long it took me. Despite the fact that I had no moral support or any money to go to college I still knew that was my number one priority after I graduated high school. I have come a long way in completing my six semester in community college. But I will have to say my dedication and drive to graduating as a Registered Nurse despite all the obstacles I had to face has put me where I am today. Thanks to my dedication I have grown to be a better student in all aspects, and now I go to college

"Uh...can I talk to you?" A voice you didn't expect to hear made itself present.

Her mother Silver, and her father Shadow, are alphas of the Northern pack. Luna loved to play with other wolf pups in her pack. Luna had a cousin named Trace who was the daughter of the betas, Lily and Falcon. As pups they roamed around in the snow, imagining they were on an adventure, running, bouncing on frozen plants pretending they were snowshoe hares. “This is fun,”said Luna happily. “I know,”said Trace. Just as Trace finished, they herd Silver howl, “Luna, Trace time for dinner.” They howled back in response “coming.” As they got back, they saw a piece of deer meat that was saved for them. They laid down and ate. When they were done, it was getting late, and Silver told them to go to the den with her. When were in the den, Shadow, Falcon,

Kenzie frowned. "I was with Ella before your mom called my mom. She's having a rough day." Who gives a fuck. Vanity thought. This whole month has been rough for her. She would pay to see Ella White in her shoes right now. " Oh. Well, I'll let you get back to her

Luna felt her vision grow hazy. She clutched her stomach and felt her hunger begin to rise. She walked half heartedly to the kitchen and opened the fridge. The white light blinded her and she squinted in order to scan the insides. Only, type-A blood. Gross. She closed the fridge door and felt her belly growl again. She looked around the kitchen, and sniffed the air and felt her nose capture a scent. It was a sweet, fresh scent that entranced her, wrapped around her like rope. She smelled the scent coming from upstairs , and tip toed up the stairs; careful not to wake her parents. The soft creak of the stairs made her ears perk, and the smell of the sweet blood made her mouth water.