Novels by Evalyn Peters

The whole groups, three guys and one girl --excluding McKenna-- are all staring holes into me now. Go figure. I try my best to shy away from their peering eyes."She's the owner niece," she explaines, taking another."And why is she here exactly?" a blond chick says, with a harsh tone."The same reason why you guys are here." McKenna walks over to a cooler seated right next to them, pulls out a bottle of beer, and places it in my hand. Reluctantly I take it, feeling the cool sting of water dripping down my arm. "To party.""So i'm guessing you forgot what happened the last time you decided to bring someone along unannounced," a blonde hair guy, who looks awfully identical to the other girl says."Hey!" she giggles, shoving him by the shoulder. "Don't be a dick, alright? It was only that one time.""I'm serious. She's the owners niece. One word of her about what's happening here and we're fucked."A dark brown s

Just before the gala began, we sat at a table along with the guest I was introduced to a few minutes prior. Not a bunch of interesting things occurred as the evening went by. We ate. There we people dancing along with the instrumental of jazz music echoing through the venue, a lot of vocal interactions between our table and others, well besides me of course. Mr. and Mrs. Kingston had a dance or two, and I swooned at how romantic they looked swaying together with the slow, jazzy tune. All the while trying to flee from Luke's piercing eyes, like they couldn't let go of me. Aunt, being a socialite, had a ball making conversation with all of tonight guests. It was an interesting sight to see how confident and friendly she was, and how easily she could speak with such rigor w

A few hours have gone by since I arrived home, and now It's 5:46 in the evening. My aunt arrived home a few minutes shortly I did, and we've be locked in our own rooms ever sense. I stand in front of my opened closet, staring at at white dress hanging from the metal rod, a dress given to me as a gift my mom bought a couple birthdays ago. The color is off-white, with thin shoulder straps, a flared skirt at the bottom. I sigh, watching it idly hang there. It's the only dress I currently own, but in my humble defense, I wasn't expecting to attend any formal 'gathering' during my stay. I don't even own formal shoes, such as flats or heels. Only a few pairs of sneakers and sandals. I

After Caleb cuts off the engine and gets out of the vehicle, I wait patiently in the cart for him to return. But my eyes widen as I hear muffled shouts, vivid to me ears, crescendoing through the walls of the cabin after the engine fully dies down. I'm positive Caleb hears what I'm hearing as well, but to my surprise, he continues jogging up the steps like it's a regular Tuesday, pounding his fist on the frame of the screened door. He knocks three times. Nothing. He pauses and knocks a few times more. Still, nothing. Leaning his back against the door, he waits. While doing so, his lips pucker, blowing raspberries as he waiting. I step out of the car and take a stroll around the rubble driveway to stretch my legs and look around. I then watch Caleb as he straightens his posture before jogging down the steps, ambling towards me.

Outside my bedroom window is world sketched with looming grey clouds, swirling with darkness and hues of blue, the rain, like paint dripping off a canvas. The rainfall has been kind to me so far. It's gentle. Light and rhythmic taping, just like the ticking sound of a clock. It's hypnotic. It's early in the morning, I think. I lift my head up and check the clock sitting on the nightstand to my right. It reads 6:23 a.m., verifying my previous assumptions. I drop my head back on my pillow, shifting my body to lie on my side, and just think. Swirling in no particular thoughts, just thinking. A minute or two goes by, and then, I decide to get out of bed, feeling particularly proud of myself for doing so. It wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be, considering how rough of a n

The frantic pounding of my heart grows ever so violently against my chest. I can feel the frigid warmth of their body heat ricocheting through me; like an ironic joke compared to the ice-cold shiver consuming my entire body. I can’t move, I can’t think, and I can’t breathe. Like I'm stuck, paralyzed from the head down. Could it be the wolf shifter from 7 years ago? Is this really my last day? But even if so, I decide I will not go down without a fight. Thinking fast, I drop the other bags, keeping the largest one in my grasp, and then twist my body around and thrust it directly at the perpetrator, hitting them repeatedly in the head and torso. I show no mercy. A low and stifled grunt omits from their lips, as they lift their arm to shield himself from my assault. “Wait!” says a deep, tenor voice. I clutch the bag in my hand to retreat it from causing any further damage. It’s hard to see much o