Eleanor Chipettes Novels & Stories

Looking back now, if I were in that conversation I would have added some things about Eleanor that I found interesting. One was that everytime she felt overpowered or overwhelmed, she would bite her bottom lip uneasily. Like she was doing right now. Another thing I had noticed was that, she was ever hungry, had an appetite bigger than that of an elephant and still managed to maintain her demeanor shape. She loved junk food, she wasn't a pro when it came to cooking, heck I don't think she knew how to cook and her smile ooh her smile. Her rare smiles also in a way made things better.

“Ask someone else, I’ll stay here.” Iris gulped down the citrus champagne that she has been drinking for the whole time she was there, making her go to the bathroom in every twenty minutes. She diverted her attention to the party. The party was not boring, the musicians are playing lively and melodramatic songs and were engaging with the guests, the ushers and usherettes were continuously offering food as if they were indefinite but tasted really delicious. Eleanor was breathtaking with her baby blue ball gown that was designed like she’s Cinderella, except that she truly is the princess of the mansion. The real Eleanor had all the features of her parents. Mrs. Dale’s willowy eyes, fair comp

Several hours ago… Eleanor's office. Eleanor stood before the mirror, slowly applying her lipstick. She glanced at the bookshelf, at the miniature listening device disguised as a decorative ornament from the corner of her eye. Her mouth turned into a cold, mocking smile. 'Richard… Trent…. You arrogant men really think I wouldn't notice such a petty trick?' She picked up her phone and called Melvin, deliberately raising her voice so every word would carry clearly through the device.

She was watching some show on the TV with Scarlett but the moment I entered the living room, I became her reality show. “I’m sorry” I began to say but the little woman before me wouldn't let me speak. Forgive me for saying little. Eleanor was little until now. Yes her size was the same, her aura just doubled. She was a fireball. A sweet little fireball and with the extra menacing way in which she looked at me, I already knew I was seconds away from being burnt. “My room…now!” she commanded and I just agreed without a single word of complaint. “And then what happens to the popcorn?” Scarlett asked

Then, she turned and carefully helped another figure out of the car. Eleanor. She was a vision of carefully constructed frailty. She leaned heavily on an ornate walking stick, her other hand gripping Victoria’s arm as if she would collapse without the support. She was paler than usual, her posture stooped, every movement was a calculated performance of weakness. The Eleanor I knew was very strong. She never joked with her health. The cameras went into a frenzy, the clicking and flashing intensified. They ate it up. They bought her shit. Damien stood frozen, his earlier defiance evaporating as he watched the masterful play unfold.

The marble sheet cracks, the letters chipping away. “Fuck you!” Eleanor yells. “I hope you’re burning in hell, you little shit!” “Ma’am!” The attendant is appalled. “Ma’am, what are you doing?” Eleanor ignores her. She continues to trash Allie’s grave. In complete horror, the attendant backs off. She hurries to her office to get her phone, dialing Melissa’s number.

he said, with that practiced wave of disdain, as if the paper itself were absurd and beneath notice. Sophie, seated with an imperious poise, let a slow, deliberate smile curve her lips. “Eleanor had an imagination,” she purred, voice low and honeyed. “Always writing, always dreaming, always… dramatizing.” She leaned back, tapping her fingers against the table, exuding the kind of unearned confidence that came from knowing she could get under anyone’s skin.

Andrew’s mumbled words fell between them; Elaine’s bread remained mostly uneaten in her palm. “Naomi- her name is Naomi Sher, and she’s fifteen.”

"Subject 0." "Eleanor didn't build you," Felix said. "She harvested you. You were the only survivor of the first Medusa trial. The woman you saw on the screen... she’s the one who stayed behind to let you go." "My mother," Isabella whispered. "The real Eleanor Vane," Felix said. "The woman in Jersey is an impostor. A high-level corporate spy who took the name and the life after the fire." The car swerved as a Vane SUV rammed our rear bumper. The metal groaned.

I asked her, and she looked at the water and looked at me. "You won't gain the magic of the Valkin," she said, and I was in shock. "Your mate has no wolf. You can only gain the magic when her wolf comes. She is just as good as a chosen for now," she said, and I was shocked. I looked at Maxwell and Clay, and the shock registered on their faces too. "Will she ever gain her wolf?" I asked, and she looked at me. "What is her name?" Elsa asked. "Scarlett Vladislav," Clay responded, and she looked at us.