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Love Cheat
64 pages
First published January 1, 1951
2 people want to read
About the author
Evadne Price
37 books1 followerEvadne Price wrote as Helen Zenna Smith.
Eva Grace Price was born on 28 August 1888 in Merewether, New South Wales, Australia, of British descen. Her father, Jonathan Dixon Price, was an Australian miner. Fiction abounds in the autobiographical details supplied by own Evadne Price. She claimed that she lied about her age, when her father died, and she went on stage to support herself and to travel alone to England. She said that she was born on 1896 at sea, on an ocean liner during a travel to Australia, or later that she was born on 1901 in Sussex, England.
On 28 August 1909 in Sydney, she married Henry A. Dabelstein, a German-born actor. After moved to England to acting, she decided reinventing herself, changing her name to more evocative "Evadne". On 1920 in London, she married Charles A. Fletcher, and changed her acting career by journalism, writing a column for the Sunday Chronicle and other newspapers. Her husband was Captain in the 3rd Devonshire Regiment, and died on 1924 in Sudan.
On 1928, she started to writing books, children's stories and romance novels, under the pseudonym Helen Zenna Smith, she also wrote two novelized books, about ambulance drivers in World War I. On 1939 in Kent, she married Kenneth Andrew Attiwill, an Australian writer. During World War II, she was the war correspondent for The People from 1943, covering the Allied invasion and all of the major war stories through the Nuremberg Trials. Her husband was a POW in Japan, and was presumed dead for two years.
Her career as novelist took her into playwriting, radio scriptwriting and screenwriting. She also had a parallel career as a night astrologer during the early years of British television. When she and her husband retired to their native Australia in 1976, she wrote the monthly horoscope column for Australian Vogue. She also appeared weekly on the ITV Central evening news magazine show with a 5 minute astrological. Evadne Price died on 17 April 1985 in Sydney, Australia at 96. She had an unfinished autobiography that she named "Mother Painted Nude".
Eva Grace Price was born on 28 August 1888 in Merewether, New South Wales, Australia, of British descen. Her father, Jonathan Dixon Price, was an Australian miner. Fiction abounds in the autobiographical details supplied by own Evadne Price. She claimed that she lied about her age, when her father died, and she went on stage to support herself and to travel alone to England. She said that she was born on 1896 at sea, on an ocean liner during a travel to Australia, or later that she was born on 1901 in Sussex, England.
On 28 August 1909 in Sydney, she married Henry A. Dabelstein, a German-born actor. After moved to England to acting, she decided reinventing herself, changing her name to more evocative "Evadne". On 1920 in London, she married Charles A. Fletcher, and changed her acting career by journalism, writing a column for the Sunday Chronicle and other newspapers. Her husband was Captain in the 3rd Devonshire Regiment, and died on 1924 in Sudan.
On 1928, she started to writing books, children's stories and romance novels, under the pseudonym Helen Zenna Smith, she also wrote two novelized books, about ambulance drivers in World War I. On 1939 in Kent, she married Kenneth Andrew Attiwill, an Australian writer. During World War II, she was the war correspondent for The People from 1943, covering the Allied invasion and all of the major war stories through the Nuremberg Trials. Her husband was a POW in Japan, and was presumed dead for two years.
Her career as novelist took her into playwriting, radio scriptwriting and screenwriting. She also had a parallel career as a night astrologer during the early years of British television. When she and her husband retired to their native Australia in 1976, she wrote the monthly horoscope column for Australian Vogue. She also appeared weekly on the ITV Central evening news magazine show with a 5 minute astrological. Evadne Price died on 17 April 1985 in Sydney, Australia at 96. She had an unfinished autobiography that she named "Mother Painted Nude".
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Displaying 1 of 1 review
March 14, 2011
I wrote this review while editing my scan of 'a book from the fifties about a girl who has a life'. she gives up everything to be with somebody, only to find that he never really loved her anyway. or not enough. they never do love you, do they? it’s part you and part situation and part convenience. I hope I can be in love with somebody more than I am in love with their life, or our life. deep and impossible.
this was the third Evadne Price book I’ve scanned. the heroines are shockingly beautiful, hopelessly impoverished society girls who meander through the story being outraged at the impertinence of men, while spending men’s money on pretty, shiny things. apparently this means they are empowered. inevitably, they fall for the man who seems all stern and controlling, but whose heart is in the right place. who rescues her from her facade of the femme fatale. because it’s always a facade.
I don’t mean to quiz a book from this time on gender equality, but it’s a disturbingly prevalent story even today. are we all so pathetic? I love men. they’re brilliant and I’d totes have one of my own. but I hate to think that we depend on them for everything that defines us as a sex.
this was the third Evadne Price book I’ve scanned. the heroines are shockingly beautiful, hopelessly impoverished society girls who meander through the story being outraged at the impertinence of men, while spending men’s money on pretty, shiny things. apparently this means they are empowered. inevitably, they fall for the man who seems all stern and controlling, but whose heart is in the right place. who rescues her from her facade of the femme fatale. because it’s always a facade.
I don’t mean to quiz a book from this time on gender equality, but it’s a disturbingly prevalent story even today. are we all so pathetic? I love men. they’re brilliant and I’d totes have one of my own. but I hate to think that we depend on them for everything that defines us as a sex.
Displaying 1 of 1 review