Melinda Warren Novels & Stories

Emily Warner, the crazy and happy go lucky side-chick in all of the stories. She is happy that all of her friends met the man of their dreams but she hasn’t. She has never met a man who even remotely loved her. As a kid, she always hoped for a crazy life story like beauty and the beast or toy story or finding nemo. But she worked at a nine to five job, at the age of twenty nine, she was single, while all of her friends were either getting married or pregnant. And there she was sitting in front of the television, eating chips out of her hair.

They were both relaxing in the their own sanctum. Warren was looking very cozy in his set of pants and a dim shirt that had certainly been better days. Melissa, meanwhile, looked miserable in an immense blue and white striped football pullover that Laura knew had belonged to Warren, who was a competent Sunday afternoon player of baseball. Melissa outfit was paired with a stretchy blue tights. She was about the size of a baby whale.

Dazzling Walker - the lost girl who found her way, Songs of a Cinderella in Boston, Melinda Walker and her gorgeous brooder, A dysfunctional daughter's journey to stardom. Melinda recounted the headlines that just stuck to her memory. She was glad there has been no stories on her past mission against the evils of drug lords and crime syndicates. On some days, she found the tabloids and the blogs amusing and would engage, sometimes she avoided them, considering the fact that they had dug out some inaccurate information from her past, courtesy of her former foster family, the Wrights.

He was doing this on purpose now, trying to distract me. I placed my hand on his, a way to stop him. "And now let's welcome our first talent, the beautiful Melinda," The boring lady finally said something that elicited a kind of reaction from the crowd. I clapped politely alongside others. Melinda was African American, she had this beautiful dyed red orangey afro hair that looked like the sunset. And her body was hand painted in this beautiful way that I couldn't explain. She looked like a goddess honestly. "Wow," The words slipped out of my mouth without me realizing it.

When he heard the door chime, he turned back, eyes lighting up as he quickly stood and walked toward Mindy. "Hello, Ms. Harrison," he greeted. "I'm Warren Stone from Ten Directions Publishing." He then nodded politely toward Miranda and Lionel. "We'll leave you to talk," Miranda said, looking at her mother. "Dad and I will wait outside." Mindy nodded. Warren pulled out a chair for her and called over a server, asking what she would like to drink. Mindy, feeling unenthused, ordered just a glass of lemonade. Since yesterday, she had felt adrift, overwhelmed by a deep, unspeakable sadness, not knowing whom to blame or where to channel her pain.

How could I ever rely on him again? This Melinda woman was wandering around the room, looking at various things and commenting something about the decor not being feminine enough. It was a constant drone of words with no meaning for me whatsoever. Tyler's head was on a swivel, moving between Mitchell, Melinda, and me. I looked over at Mitchell for an explanation, but he looked just as horrified. "What the fuck have you done, old man?" I mind-linked him. Slapping his palm to his face, Mitchell answered, "I was supposed to ring Rikard. Melinda is Rikard's daughter, and she was coming over to meet you as a possible Luna."

Selene stiffened when she turned and saw a woman. Melinda Harris. Slowly, she turned to see the tall brunette gliding toward her, wearing that same polished smirk that had always made Selene grit her teeth. Melinda had been one of the pack’s golden girls years ago. The kind who wore expensive perfume, smiled sweetly, and knew how to draw blood with words. They'd been some sort of rival for her baby daddy back then. “Well,” Melinda said, giving Selene an unapologetic once-over, “I didn’t think I’d see you crawling back here.”

And while I was scanning through the guests for people I would know, who else would be the first to stand out other than Melinda? Melinda was wearing a golden silk dress that looked to be made out of liquid and clung to her body in all the right places. It was tied on only one shoulder with a bow and for jewelry; Melinda wore a choker made of two layers of rubies and a huge ruby drop earring in each ear. She also had red lipstick on which looked more like she sucked the blood out of someone’s veins than actual lipstick and she had styled her hair to cover her bare shoulder in loose ringlets. As soon as she saw Lance, her eyes lit up like a vixen, but then her eyes fell on me and her expressi

“Nora? Is that you?!” Nora frowned, recognition dawning. It was Melinda Walker, an old classmate from high school. Back then, Melinda had been shallow and obsessed with money, always fawning over the rich and looking down on everyone else. Nora didn’t want to talk. She just wanted to take the contract and leave. But when she reached for it, Melinda tightened her grip and refused to let go. Melinda’s eyes raked over her from head to toe, full of disdain. Compared to Melinda, who was draped in designer logos from her bag to her earrings, Nora looked simple—minimal jewelry, clean but unremarkable clothes.

“You know, dealing with that idiotic pack warrior.” My father chuckled. “Not at all,” he said smoothly. “Everything went as planned.” I couldn’t hold back my confusion any longer. “Melinda… why?” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Why are you doing this?” Melinda’s expression darkened. She started pacing, her movements slow and deliberate. Then she stopped abruptly and bent down, bringing her face dangerously close to mine. “Why?” she echoed, her voice low but brimming with malice. “Everything was going perfectly for me. Katie was gone, and I was finally about to make my move on Gregory