Elizabeth Plimpton Novels & Stories

"I asked somebody to obtain the consumer list of the BMW factory from around 30 years ago. You can refer to it." All of a sudden, Hilda came across a photo. Naturally, the woman in the photo had a hooked nose. Aside from that, she was very pretty and had an air of heavy solemnity which made her features particularly prominent. Her name was Elizabeth Jones. 28 years ago, Elizabeth was 27 years old.

He was willing to do anything for her just to see a smile on her face. On the other hand, Elizabeth was the same age as Kira, but she was a bit fleshy and not slim like Kira. In fact, she has a perfect body shape with long natural hair. Her lips were red and they were natural as well. Elizabeth was a graduate, but what she did for living was living the life of a stripper. She strips for a living and satisfies both genders in one of the clubs very far away from her home and is filled with influential rich men and women.

“Miss, can I see that suit,” she asked and pointed her finger to the display area. The sales staff nodded and picked up the suit that she chose. However, even before the sales staff handed the clothes to her, a hand snatched them. “I want this one.” the woman said. Ara raised her brows and looked at the woman. She knew her. She’s Eliza, one of the hottest actresses in the country and well-known in the social circle, not because she has an impressive background but because she was a friend of so many rich and famous young ladies.

I know she does it on purpose, though sincerely, I don't mind. I know who the wine is for. Damien's fiancée, Elizabeth. The supermodel. Well, she's not an actual supermodel. She only looks like one. Long, smooth legs. A face to die for. She's always here, in and out of his office. The entire day. She'll order a drink, always from me, but has never looked me in the face. Not once.

"Elizabeth should be coming out soon, right?" Evelyn sat under the stage. She was so excited that she could not help but pull James's sleeve. James didn't mind what she did. He knew that she was happy for Elizabeth. He nodded slightly, "It should be." Evelyn nodded, "I went backstage to see Elizabeth just now. Now she is completely different from before. She arranged the order of the models and let the makeup artists put on make-up for them according to their characteristics. I feel that she is like a queen! She is a very strong and competent woman."

Sarcasm dripping off every word. He lifted himself up further till his arms had extended. His gaze swept over my whole body. I knew what he would see, I was thin and toned. Little food with continuous strenuous exercise for four years had caused my human form to become lithe. I was noticeably dirty, I hadn't bathed in a few weeks now, as I hadn't come across a large enough body of water to do so. My body reacted to his stare. It was as if I could sense where his eyes were focused at any time. And right now his gaze was focused on my breasts, causing my nipples to immediately pebble. His breathing hitched as he watched them.

Besides it’s not like she planned going here from the very start. “She’s wonderful wasn’t she? She really pulled the audience in.” Ms. Finnegan complimented and Catherine thought that this instructor had forgotten the she had heard all the nonsense Ms. Finnegan spouted at Lyra. “Sure, it didn’t seem you liked her during your class.” Catherine said unamused and Ms. Finnegan nervously laugh at Catherine’s comment. Catherine was sure that Ms. Finnegan is trying to be all sweet and all because her mother is a renowned Prima Ballerina and not only that but her mother has a lot of connection.

The speakeasy known only as The Red Rose was packed tonight, but the real action always happened in the back rooms. Elizabeth Monroe slipped through the heavy curtain wearing a shimmering silver silk dress that clung to every curve like liquid moonlight. The hem stopped scandalously high on her thighs, and long strands of pearls swung between her small breasts with every step. Her dark bob was pinned with diamond clips, lips painted a dangerous crimson. She looked every inch the carefree flapper, but her eyes scanned the room with sharp purpose. She was here for one reason: information on the man who had her brother killed.

I leaned back against the wall of the elevator, my hands resting casually in my pockets, barely listening to Jason as he rattled off details from the tablet in his hand. “This is Elizabeth,” he began, his voice taking on that overly professional tone he used when he wanted to impress. “She’s the only daughter of the Miller family. She’s well-educated, graduated top of her class from Yale. Good at charity events, hosts fundraisers regularly… and is highly respected in social circles.” I didn’t bother hiding my boredom. I simply stared at the numbers above the elevator door as they flicked past, floor by floor. Jason cleared his throat, glancing at me nervously before swiping to the next profi