Grace Trevelyan Grey Novels & Stories

The jitters in my chest kept me restless as I silently climbed down from the bed. In the dimly lit room, Grace Everly, my friend since our orphanage days, was seated on the surplus computer chair, donning an inexpensive headset and an oversized old hoodie that draped her frame. Her short, tousled raven hair carelessly clung at the ends. The dark circles beneath her eyes hint she hadn't taken a nap, typing the manuscript of her new novel, which she had just started a few days ago. The dim glow of her aging laptop screen accentuated her pale complexion and the subtle freckles scattered across her nose.

Grace, who had pursed her lips with a jealous expression immediately smiled when her gaze met Yuriel's. “Congratulations, Mrs. Yunifer. You are pregnant with the great-grandson of the Gilrens,” she said, sounding very sincere. "Thank you, Miss Grace." Yuriel didn't want to make a fuss and expose how hypocritical Grace was when there were so many people in the room. She turned her gaze to Katherine who was sitting beside her husband and had a flat expression without saying a word.

“Grey, what's this?” “I've stared at your art Lyla,” Grey started, shifting his gaze away from her. His eyes traveled around the room, pinpointing every one of her artworks. “They lack life, they lack desire. That passion” “Janet put your clothes back on,” Lyla thought she could counter his instructions. But Janet wasn't listening. She was slowly done with the buttons and was pulling the sleeves down. “Grey, please tell her to stop”

"Yes. Our great, great grandfather bought this when he proposed to our late grandma, Anita Grey. From them, this ring is passed down until it has become my turn." The people squealed again as they heard about the legendary name, Anita Grey. One of them stepped forward to the front and introduced herself as a college professor. "Anita Grey's name is told by generations after her heroic act of saving a soldier from the brink of death. Beforehand, she had led out different charitable organizations and foundations that had helped the country in surviving against a national crisis that hit the nation at that time." "And that soldier had become her husband, the famous Thomas Grey I. With their str

Aunt Grace, being the incredible woman she is, takes control as everyone in the party stands around looking as dumbfounded as I feel. “Riley, Leana, please see to the guests. Richard, Emlyn, what is your name dear?” Aunt Grace asks the woman. “Gwendolyn,” the woman says, as she stares at Rich. “And you are Gwendolyn’s father?” she asks the older gentleman standing with the woman. “Yes, Beta Trevor from Silver Moon pack.” “Beta Trevor, please join us. I believe we all need to have a conversation in private.”

The one emotion I feel towards Scarlett is anger, not because she's a bit of bitch but because she let's her husband loose on his leash way too many fucking times and he always tracks my scent so he can corner me, barking at me, keeping me guessing at the moment that he will finally bite. “I wouldn't,” Olivia laughs, taking her phone from me. “I like my bisexual experiences with women that carry a little more...unm personality.” I laugh, my gaze shifting to the door where Grace now stands. She's wearing a beautiful red silk dress, I'm in a red dress too, with a slit that goes all the way up you can tell I'm not wearing any panties underneath it, the dress is nothing short of beautiful in loo

She frowned, and put her head down on the table, and closed her eyes for a moment. Dimitri and Pete walked through the door, Pete went to work on the soup, Ivan whispered to Dimitri about her arms. He looked over but said nothing. Pete cleared this throat, and Jade looked up. Her eyes a pale gray, almost white startled him he dropped the bowl of soup shattering the bowl when it hit the ground. He broke his stare, and grabbed a cloth, “My apologies you're eyes aren't as gray as they used to be. It’s almost a pale white,” he whispered.

Like a garden of pink asters, her face shone brightly in a soft tone of gloss. All smirk and plush, Grace Anslem walked out of her apartment. Her attractiveness adds colour to the serene atmosphere in view. The morning sun kissed her skin causing it to glow and radiate in-between of her dress puckers. While she worked the locks, her face caught the mirror of her door frame and soon became null, as though devoid of emotions. In a flick, a telephone call came in; the loud noise from the device stabbed

Grace opens a photo of her mother which is in a small purse, the one she takes with her every time she leaves the house. There was only a photo of her and Mrs.Launtin, a photo with their young faces. When counting down, both of them were still only seventeen years old.

she stretched it forward. Whilst he opened the letter, Grace ran her eyes over him. He was more of Cecilia's type, tall, huge, dressed in no more than black, his hair packed at the back of his head, his eyes a disturbing green. "Give me your hand" Grace's lips trembled "No. I have to go. I was sent only to deliver your letter and I have. So .. I have to leave" She said starting to turn away. "Go on" "Thank you"