How Do Android Novel Writing Apps Sync Drafts Across Devices?

What if an omega servant can hear the inner wolf of the ruthless Alpha King—when no one else can, not even the king himself? Will it be a secret that save her life… or destroy her?

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I'm the type who has the urge to overshare my life with him. It can be anything, be it the flowers blooming by the side of the road, the unpleasant coffee I end up having, or the sunset I've seen when I'm on my way home from work. Heck, when I think of Edwin Howell all of a sudden, I can't resist texting him at all. His replies are always short and perfunctory, though I suppose they count as a form of response from him. Hence, over the past six months, I've relied on these cold-sounding yet present replies to give me enough strength to deal with the engagement party, go wedding gown shopping, and choose the wedding venue all by myself. Somehow, I've managed to hang in there till the week before the wedding. But five days before the wedding, I discover an AI program that's installed within Edwin's computer. It can categorize every single sentence that I've sent to Edwin and extract the keywords. Then, it'll draft the most perfunctory responses that will never go wrong. If I miss Edwin, the AI will reply, "Mm-hmm." If I feel aggrieved, the AI will reply, "Got it." When I try to vent my frustrations to Edwin, the AI will reply, "Don't make such a big deal out of it." It turns out that Edwin isn't the one who has been responding to my need to overshare. The thing is, he has been texting another woman nonstop in another private chat. They talk about anything and everything under the sun, from exchanging simple good mornings and good nights to asking, "What are you having for lunch today?" and "Do you wanna go to the beach someday?" Finally, I realize that Edwin isn't the silent type who keeps his love in. If anything, he's the flashy type who will proclaim his love anywhere, anytime. It's just that… his love has never been mine to have. As for me, I've finally made up my mind to stop spending my life waiting for a response that will never come.

We love reading novels, fall in love with the characters, sometimes envy the main girl for getting the perfect male lead... but what happens when you get inside your own novel and get to meet your perfect main lead and bonus...get treated like the female lead?! As the clock struck 12, Arielle Taylor is pulled inside her own novel. This cinderella is over the moon as her Prince Charming showers her with his attention but what would happen when she finds herself falling for her fairy godmother instead? Please read my interview with Goodnovel at: https://tinyurl.com/y5zb3tug Cover pic: pixabay

I woke up inside a novel, and not even as an important character. I became a pretty background extra in a smut novel. My brother, however, was the only normal person in the entire story. His character setting was the one man the soft, delicate heroine could never win over. He was the cold, unattainable Prince Charming she could never conquer. When the heroine cried and confessed her love, he was studying. When she offered him her whole heart and body, he was busy starting a company. When she spiraled into scandals and nightlife, he was already a billionaire, calm and untouchable. I thought he would live a quiet, ascetic life forever. Until one night, I walked in on him at midnight… holding a piece of clothing I recognized all too well, murmuring a name over and over, a name so familiar that my scalp tingled.

My husband and my best friend's husband looked exactly alike, but I never thought much of it. My husband, Cody Hill, was one of the country's top scientific researchers. Since my best friend, Ophelia Underwood, had sworn never to marry, he built an android in his own image to keep her company and take care of her. At first, I found it unsettling. But after decades passed, I gradually got used to it. Things were fine until the day of our 50th wedding anniversary. The hotel suddenly collapsed, trapping my husband and me beneath the rubble. Only then did I discover that the liquid flowing from his open wounds was blue. In the final second before another slab of concrete came crashing down, I watched him split apart before my eyes into countless precision-engineered bionic components. After I died, my soul drifted above the ruins. That's when I saw the "android" standing beside Ophelia gently wiping away her tears. In a gentle voice, he said, "She's dead. I don't have to pretend to be a robot while I stay by your side anymore." When I opened my eyes, I was 25 years old again. Inside the laboratory, two identical men stood before me. I raised my hand and pointed at one of them. "I'll take this one."