Harper Lee Novels & Stories

I don't belong here. The tears dry against her cheeks, and her breathing turns to hiccups. By the time she blinks, the world becomes visible again. Once her heart calms to a normal pace, her breathing evens out, and the hiccups eventually cease. Although her mind is still a mess, she can't sit here all night. Her fingertips have already begun to go numb with cold. Sera climbs to her feet and walks out the main entrance to the park. She wipes away the remaining tears from her cheeks. Her foot is barely off the curb when she sees it. Two lights whipping around the corner, blinding her. She's frozen. They came out of nowhere. Now fully comprehending the term 'deer caught in headlights expressio

Before the police find me — or worse if he does. A woman is dead. A child is without a mother. I've made a mistake and now I need to RUN! END OF BOOK TWO

"Well, sort of. I can see flashes of images and feel the emotions that go along with them. Especially if they're catastrophic. And if you've been doing this as long as me, you start getting good at deciphering the pieces of a story." "Okay," Brad says, "So, you think Candice used to be the girl Atticus killed himself over?" "Without a doubt," Mrs. Stephens says. "Her name was Josephine."

The blind of Harper’s office doors were off so I could see the inside of the office, I slowly came to a halt as I stared inside, “Miss Harper, please is there no hope, please don’t go,” I watched as Leslie teared up, she stood in a corner as Collin and Harper packed up the load in the office, Harper flashed her a small smile and walked up to her, she placed her hands on her shoulder,

Daisy Hunter opens the door of her office, immediately she meets face to face with her boss Wade Roberto. "Daisy, I was actually coming to meet you at your office." His voice was barely above whispers. "Okay, I was actually bringing the paperwork of Mr Chan Lee for you to sign." Daisy said, her voice laced with bewilderment. As they walked through the corridor, the chandelier's light shimmered through the entire corridor flooding the whole corridor with a touch of grandeur.

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.

My mind went blank when I got the call from the hospital. My mother-in-law, Marie Palmer, came over to bring my husband, Zachary Lambert, some of his favorite homemade pickles. She had only left not too long ago, but I was now informed that she had gotten into a car accident.

Harper sat in her car outside the office building for twenty minutes before going in. She had walked back from the bridge, gone straight to the parking garage, and sat in the driver's seat staring at the concrete wall in front of her like it had answers written on it. Her father was alive. She kept saying it in her head and it kept not fully landing. Like a word repeated until it lost its meaning. Alive. Alive. Robert Wells was alive in Vermont and had been reading her published work and had named her before she was born after a writer he loved.

She is standing. Margaret Harper is coordinating, not Oakfield staffs this time, but nurses. Grace Harper, 21, half-sister, revealed, holding Lillian's hand too tight again. Same hand that held soup, same hand that held NDA, same hand that held Patricia's PENDING autopsy.

Amelia retorted with a confident smile on her lips. Another author's note: I want to thank everyone who has been on this book since the beginning of time. I apologize for my update schedule that is really messed up. I also wanna thank my editor. This is El, and I will see you all again in the next story!