Emily Rath Author Novels & Stories

She had no idea that this woman standing before her had anything to do with the young inmate, that she was, in fact, the very crux of the situation. However, she recognized her. She had seen her face on the back of several paperbacks, even the one that she owned. A book called Wolves at the Door, which she had picked up on impulse and quite enjoyed. Diamond had a way with words, and though her stories were strange, they never lost the coherency of narrative that kept you attached to her characters. “You're a lot stronger than the others,” Emily smirked. Her wicked smile was nothing like the cute one she displayed in her author photo. “Everyone else just collapsed when I pushed on them.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Zach! I’m Heather, Rath’s mother, obviously.” “Nice to meet you, Mrs Emerson,” I greeted her in return, only for her to once more hold me close to her chest. “So cute! But call me Heather! I’ll sound like an old lady if you call me that!” She chimed happily. From Rem’s description of her family, I hadn’t expected this at all. “You are old,” Rem claimed as his eyes scanned the books in a rather indifferent manner. “They informed you he was a werewolf, right?” He then asked, glancing up at the two of us.

“It sounds perfect.” Elaine reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Then why not?” Emily stared down at her plate for a long moment, the steam rising between them. “I wouldn’t even know where to start,” she said quietly. Elaine waited. “I was created in a lab,” Emily went on, her voice steady but distant, like she was talking about someone else. “I didn’t grow up like other people. I didn’t learn how to live among humans. Every step I took, someone was watching. Measuring. Correcting.”

“I’m serious. I just wanted to hear about you.” Emily sighed but didn’t push. Instead, she refilled her glass and leaned back. “Alright, but just so you know, I’m very nosy. So don’t think you’ll escape forever.” I smiled, grateful for her presence. As the night went on, we talked about everything except my problems. I learned that Emily had once considered moving to France but chickened out. That she hated horror movies but loved crime documentaries. That she secretly wrote erotica under a fake name and had an insane number of readers.

Emily As she left after her conversation with Reymond, Emily started thinking she should’ve asked him about Raleigh and Nick. And what was going on with the missing paperwork about the rogues and all the broken rules. She didn’t know if he would’ve told her though, seeing as how it all might be tied together with her trial somehow.

"Something even better. I'm going to be a published author." Everyone was surprised. "Elena, what kind of author?" Mom asked. "I'm writing a memoir called 'Building an Empire While Building a Family: Four Generations of Romano Women Who Refused to Choose Between Love and Ambition.'" Elena was so proud. "Seattle University Press wants to publish it to inspire young women and guide family businesses." Dad leaned forward. "Elena, that's amazing. When do you start?" "I already have. I've been talking to a writer for six months, writing down everything from my first business loan to Bella's merger to Emma's wisdom about families choosing love." Elena looked at me. "Emma, you're in three chapters

If you enjoyed this book, I’m sure you’ll also like the following titles: Wind Chill by Patrick Rutigliano—What if you were held captive by your own family? Emma Rawlins has spent the last year a prisoner. The months following her mother’s death dragged her father into a paranoid spiral of conspiracy theories and doomsday premonitions. But there is a force far colder than the freezing drifts. Ancient, ravenous, it knows no mercy. And it’s already had a taste . . .

“The one you explicitly forbade me from approaching. I can’t explain the science of it, Cade, but the moment I look at it, I get this terrifying sense of deja vu. Like my feet know the floorboards. Like something catastrophic happened to me behind those doors.” It’s her. She’s Rachael. The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow, knocking the air clean out of my lungs. “And lately, the nightmares have been getting worse,” Emily continued, her voice growing raspy, entirely unaware of the executioner's axe hanging over my head. “I’m running through the dark, and someone is hunting me down. I can never see his face, but we always end up at that exact cottage. He corners me. He push

But no one seemed to know much, and Emilia was starting to get frustrated. Just as she was about to give up, Emilia saw a girl from her history class, Rachel, sitting at a table in the library. Rachel was known for being a bit of a gossip, and Emilia had a feeling that she might know something about Liam. Emilia walked over to Rachel's table and sat down. "Hey, Rachel," Emilia said. "I'm looking for some information about Liam." Rachel's eyes lit up with interest. "What do you want to know?" Rachel asked.

Harrison's guest room, but it was still far more comfortable than any bed I'd slept in before coming here. Rachel sat down next to me, her eyes searching my face. "What's your story, Emma?" she asked, her voice gentle, coaxing the words out of me like a skilled therapist. I took a moment, gathering my thoughts before I spoke, the words spilling out in a rush. I told her everything: my desperation, the job offer, and the unexpected twist my life had taken since setting foot in the Hathaway to Mr Harrison's mansion. Rachel listened without judgment, her expression a mix of sympathy and understanding.