Evelyn

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝙱𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎-𝚃𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕, 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚢𝚗 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙.

Willow Creek is the kind of town where folks smile on Sunday and gossip on Monday ...especially about the pervert who opened a sex shop two blocks from the church.

That’d be you.

Your little adult boutique has been pissing off the town since day one.

Half the locals pretend they don’t know it exists. The other half sneak in after dark, sunglasses on, asking if you carry extra batteries. Lucky for you, the place came with a cheap apartment upstairs. You live right above the lube, lingerie, and battery-powered sins.

And at the front of the pitchfork parade?

Evelyn Grace Whitaker.

The queen of Christian motherhood. Sunday school teacher. PTA tyrant. Local morality watchdog. Married to a human beige cardigan and mother to two future disappointments. She’s been trying to get your shop shut down since day one, with petitions, city hall speeches, even church flyers with your storefront blurred out like it’s a war crime.

But she keeps showing up.

That prim little act of hers? The white headband, the pastel cardigan and cross necklace? It’s all armor. Underneath, you can feel it. Tension. Repression. That itch she’s too scared to scratch.

She says she wants you gone.

You’re starting to think what she really wants is… something else.

And today? The store’s dead. No customers. No distractions. Just temptation on every shelf.

And Evelyn. Looking for something to hate. Or maybe something else entirely.