Evelyn Miller Author Novels & Stories

Anna was a miracle child, and so is this book. She looked down on the paperback on her lap, its cover dazzling as ever. The Anthem of Lycanthropy. She couldn’t believe she was the author of this, that this was her life, and that her life story went viral — with everyone thinking it’s a realistic fiction. But of course, nobody knew that she was the writer behind the works except her and Ellie. Everyone just knew the writer as L.M.H. and that was it. Leal Miragia Horryn.

EVELYN The walls were closing in on me. For decades, Evelyn Caldwell had been untouchable. She had built an empire with her hands buried deep in the pockets of men too spineless to resist her, silenced enemies with a check or a blade, and raised her children like soldiers. But now? Now she was prey.

"But don't play games." Evelyn nodded. "I won't." --- She slowly walked toward the grave. "I met Claire when I was six." "She wasn't just Richard's wife." "She was a doctor." "A brilliant one." "She volunteered to help Richard rescue children trapped inside Project Echo." Elena listened without blinking. "She treated us." "Fed us." "Read stories to us." "She never looked at us like experiments." "She looked at us..." "...like children." A faint smile crossed Evelyn's face. "She was the first person who hugged me."

Selecting a book from the stack borrowed from the library, Evelyn opened Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day and began to read. It didn’t take long to get engrossed in the subtly delicious innuendos and risqué story of the virginal Miss Pettigrew, harmlessly swept into the louche world and taboos of her mistaken charge, Miss LaFosse. It was all too easy to draw parallels between herself and the dowdy and penurious Miss Pettigrew, leaving behind a life that was callous, cold and depressed and finding goodness in the scandalizing naughtiness of someone else. By the second chapter, she was almost in tears. She was also growing hungry and Lily still wasn’t home. Setting the book aside, Evelyn wandere

I smiled, blinking my eyes and said, "I hope I can hold up here. Well, you are?" "Eva Brown, and Mr Adam Miller's secretary. He is the opposite of Mr Connell, so my job is somewhat easy but sometimes he becomes like Mr Connell, after all, they are half-sibling," she said with a small laugh but one thing attracted me. It was her eyes which sparked when she took Adam's name. Wait. What did she say? Adam Miller, please he shouldn't cross his path to me. I don't want to mess my life more. "It was nice meeting you, Ms Brown," I said coming in the sense as my floor came.

And tonight, he had become a foot soldier for a bitch who used babies as weapons. Miller retreated to his home office and locked the door. He sat at his desk, the blue light of his laptop reflecting in his hollow eyes. He had remote access to the hospital’s central server. He knew he should just stay away. He knew he should take the million dollars and disappear into the lie. But the image of Elara bleeding, wine stained, and silent haunted him. “She wasn't a beggar,” Miller whispered to himself, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. “A beggar doesn't have eyes like that. A beggar doesn't have Sarah Vance bowing at her feet.”

“Hi, Mr. Atherton. It must be inconvenient for you to take care of such a little kid. You can leave him to me. After all, I’m his stepmother.” She said as she reached out her hand to touch Miles’ head. However, Miles pushed away her hand and widened his eyes in anger. “Ugly woman, stay away from me.” Evelyn had been praised for being beautiful since she was a little kid. It was the first time that someone said that she was ugly. “You’re underbred indeed. No wonder you’re the bitch, Catelyn’s son!” “Ms. Swan, watch your mouth.” Edwin carried Miles up, didn’t bother to glance at Evelyn, and left.

He backed two steps away from her. “I wish it were, but no, it’s by an author I’ve long admired, Joyce Elbert. In the late sixties she was the hottest writer in the country. Her novel The Crazy Ladies sold over two million copies,” She refilled her drink, then walked the same two step distance closer to him. “And I’m sure Legal Briefs will sell twice as many, and Guilty Pleasures as well, once you’ve finished it,”

Tossing the spent matchstick into a nearby trash can, he leaned forward to light his cigarette. Soon, a plume of smoke curled upward from the cigarette that had eluded four matches. Lucas took a drag, and the man pocketed his lighter. "I'm Evan Miller. I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Thomas." Evan Miller was from the famous Miller family in J city, a name that carried weight. Lucas had certainly heard of him. However, the Thomas family and the Miller family didn’t have much business interaction. Lucas glanced at Evan, his expression as cold as ever. "What do you want?"