Grace Trevelyan Grey Novels & Stories

She laughed, like really laughed. “First of all, Evelyn is too damn good of a spy. Jesus, she must have taken notes on what I said. Secondly I don’t know how to dance, other than dancing in the shower which I wouldn’t wish on anyone to have to watch and third where exactly are we going? Grace is from Atlanta is that where it is,” she asked, and I rose to take her hand. Finch, Grace’s mate, had brought an electronic device that showed me all sorts of things. How to be a “gentleman” he called it. I was determined to remember it all. Some of it seemed nice, some ridiculous. But it’s all for her.

Daisy felt confused and asked her mother. Grace was already in her sixties. However, because she had spent her life making herself more beautiful, she still looked relatively young and pretty. When she saw the four of them in the distance, her eyes lit up. She said, “Oh, you are right. How come Rene knows them so well? Daisy, who is that girl over there? Is she married?” Grace Miller was from Ireland and was a gentle and sweet woman. She spoke in a very kind way as if Alice were her friend.

Several thick quilts hang on the backs of the chairs, each one hand embroidered with constellations and or different symbols that I do not recognize. Grace is watching me silently from the doorway to the tearoom. She does not stop me from exploring the room or touching the items on the shelves. Her hands are fiddling with the toggles on her cloak as she watches me carefully. I study her from across the room and I realize that I can finally see her face clearly. She looks to be in her mid to late forties. She has black hair, that I swear used to be gray, pulled back into a loose braid at the base of her neck. The braid drapes across her shoulder and almost reaches her waist. She takes

Her voice came young and ladylike. Grace was a young 25 year old whom Grey hired right out of high school. He saw something in her and he was right to gamble.. - Hey Grace, how you doing!?" He spoke with a sigh. - Am good now! I thought you were Dead!" He heard the sounds of car horns and people in the background she was driving somewhere. - Yeah.. I needed some alone time!" - Five years worth of it! You couldn't come back at a better time. I just met with a gift shop owner who sold me an antique weapon. From what I read in the library about it... Seven figures."

But still… That evening, Gwen gathered us all in the living room to go through Grey’s old photos, mementos, and everything that reminded us of him. She had laid out the pictures in neat rows, and as we looked at each one, she spoke about them with fondness and admiration. Grey had been a scholar, a tech expert, and a man who loved books. He had received so many awards over the years. Vivian seemed fascinated by everything Gwen was saying, hanging on her every word. I, on the other hand, already knew most of these things. Anthony looked annoyed, as if he wanted to be anywhere but there.

The room was bathed in a soft glow as Gryvia, the banished widow, entered with a quiet grace. Her long grey hair cascaded down her back, and her wise eyes carried the weight of years gone by. She wore a simple gown, yet there was an air of majesty that surrounded her, as if the forest itself recognized her as its guardian.

"What do you mean," I asked with a frown, "Sweety, you don't know me, do you?" She chuckled, I just look at her completely confused, " I am Mrs. Anna Grey," she smug, "You mean, Wife of famous billionaire 'Mr. Zev Grey' " I asked in surprise, totally taken aback from the sudden information, "Yup, And Mother of 'Daniel Grey' " she emphasizes on Daniel Grey like a proud mother, "But why would you help me," I asked another question, one thing I learned in this life was nothing came free of cost,

Creating a strategic smoke screen was necessary to deliver the most devastating blow to Annie. On the weekend, Renee returned to the Grey family mansion. As she entered, two figures stepped out of a nearby car. It was Linda Clark, the wife of Marcus Grey, the eldest son of the Grey family. Beside her stood Travis Grey, her son and the eldest grandson of the Grey family. Linda was dressed elegantly in simple attire, with only an antique gem ring on her finger as an accessory. Rumor had it that the ring was a token of love between her and Marcus, and she had never taken it off since putting it on. Sadly, her husband had passed away.

“Good afternoon Mr. Trelawney, I am Grey Mills.” “Nice to meet you detective. I hear you are checking a case regarding the old orphanage?” “Yes. She was one when she was brought to the orphanage in the year you served as director. Do you recognize her?” “Oh, yes. Bethany Callaghan.” Grey frowns ever so slightly. “Wha… How do you remember her? It’s been over twenty years, hasn’t it? And please don’t tell me it is because you have a good memory.”

Grace dreamed of me? *****