Does My Fiction Pay Writers?

What happens when your life is just a lie? What happens when you finally find out that none of what you believe to be real is real? What if you met someone who made you question everything? And what happens when your life is nothing but a fiction carved by Mr. Fiction himself? "The truth is rarely pure and never simple." — Oscar Wilde. Disclaimer: this story touches on depression, losing someone, and facing reality instead of taking the easy way out. ( ( ( part of TBNB Series, this is the story of Clarabelle Summers's writers ))

"Are you still afraid of me Medusa?" His deep voice send shivers down my spine like always. He's too close for me to ignore. Why is he doing this? He's not supposed to act this way. What the hell? Better to be straight forward Med! I gulped down the lump formed in my throat and spoke with my stern voice trying to be confident. "Yes, I'm scared of you, more than you can even imagine." All my confidence faded away within an instant as his soft chuckle replaced the silence. Jerking me forward into his arms he leaned forward to whisper into my ear. "I will kiss you, hug you and bang you so hard that you will only remember my name to sa-, moan. You will see me around a lot baby, get ready your therapy session to get rid off your fear starts now." He whispered in his deep husky voice and winked before leaving me alone dumbfounded. Is this how your death flirts with you to Fuck your life!? There's only one thing running through my mind. Lifting my head up in a swift motion and glaring at the sky, I yelled with all my strength. "FUC* YOU AUTHOR!" ~~~~~~~~~ What if you wished for transmigating into a Novel just for fun, and it turns out to be true. You transimigated but as a Villaness who died in the end. A death which is lonely, despicable and pathetic. Join the journey of Kiara who Mistakenly transmigates into a Novel. Will she succeed in surviving or will she die as per her fate in the book. This story is a pure fiction and is based on my own imagination.

When my Alpha mate, Logan noticed I hadn't submitted a single expense request in three days, he reached out to me on his own for the first time ever. "Baby, I've already approved the next phase of your wolf's healing. See? As long as you learn to behave, there's nothing I won't give you." His tone was still so affectionate, as if he were truly a good Alpha, worried sick over his mate. But he didn't know that as his "Baby" flashed across my phone screen, I had already finished drafting the agreement to sever our mate bond. Before I left, the only thing I could take with me was the old T-shirt I had worn when he marked me. No one would ever believe that the beloved Luna of the Blackmoon Pack, in the three years since our bonding ceremony, couldn't even scrape together five decent dresses of her own. Every household expense I incurred had to be approved by the Luna's seal, the very symbol of my power. "Sienna, managing the books is too tiring. It will wear you out." "Just let Chloe handle the tedious work with the seal. All you have to do is be beautiful, be my perfect Luna." And so, the Luna's seal, which should have been mine, became something I had to beg for from Chloe, the Alpha's secretary who was supposedly "handling the tedious work for me." Three days ago, my wolf was on the verge of collapsing. I cried and begged him for the two hundred thousand needed for an emergency intervention. But Chloe deliberately withheld the seal, delaying approval by claiming improper procedure. Finally, my already fractured wolf went completely silent in the depths of my soul. And with that, I was done with this Alpha, too.

I stand before the judges at the jewelry design competition and admit to plagiarism. Then, I announce my withdrawal from the contest, along with my resignation as Design Director of Fairchild Group. My fiance, Caleb Fairchild, shoots daggers at me. "If you walk away from this competition, our engagement is off!" My father follows up by slapping me across the face. "First, you plagiarize your own sister, and now you're breaking off your engagement with the Fairchilds? Are you trying to ruin our family?" "Oh, I'm not just calling off my engagement. I'm also cutting off my ties with you," I respond apathetically. I make this decision because I have been given a second life. In my previous life, my stepsister and I competed in this contest. First place earns the title of the nation's top jewelry designer and 50 million dollars from Fairchild Group. However, round after round, her designs are exactly the same as mine, and she submits them before I do. The judging panel gives me a pass because of Caleb and lets me advance to the finals, but not without a warning to never plagiarize again. I refuse to believe it. I switch to a brand-new computer, lock myself in my room, and pour everything into a new design. Yet, when the final designs appear on the big screen, history repeats itself. In the end, my sister takes first place and walks away with everything that should have been mine. The reputation I painstakingly built is ruined, and my name is dragged through the mud online. My parents are ashamed of me. They knock me out and sell me off to the countryside to marry an old man. Ultimately, I die after endless abuse. When I open my eyes again, I'm back at the semifinals. Everyone is pointing at me as they stare at the two identical designs.

On the day of my wedding with Hannah Hawkes, her first love, Lucas Tate, sends his critical notice to her. He mentions that he wants to wear a wedding tuxedo one last time at a wedding before his death. In order to fulfill Lucas' wish, Hannah locks me up in a lounge and gets ready to attend the wedding with him. Her impatient voice echoes outside the door. "Why are you so cold-blooded? Lucas is about to die, you know! What's the harm in letting him have his way?" Some time after that, Freya Jensen, the young woman who lives next door, gets up to the rooftop and begs me to marry her. With red-rimmed eyes, Hannah asks pleadingly, "Are you going to give up on our seven-year relationship because of her?" I merely slap her hand away. "Am I supposed to watch Freya die? It's just a marriage registration. Stop being cold-blooded, will you?"

When Nadia Marlowe attends the annual writers’ conference in California, all she has in mind is a break from the regular activities back home, an autograph from her favourite author, and the desire to connect with writers from around the world. That is, until the air conditioner in her hotel room starts spitting hot air, and a technician is sent in to fix it. Suddenly, the conference no longer matters. The goals she arrived with disappear into thin air, replaced by an undeniable awareness of the extremely handsome technician standing across from her. One thing leads to another, and a simple repair session turns into an intense encounter that leaves Nadia shaken to her core. Disgusted with herself for crossing a line she never thought she would—married, with children—Nadia leaves California after the conference determined to bury the experience and pretend it never happened. But fate has a sense of humour, and Nadia Marlowe becomes its favourite recipient. Her husband’s longtime friend arrives for a business discussion, and to her horror, that friend turns out to be Fabian, the same technician she had mouth watering sex with back in California. Lost for words, Nadia struggles to survive his stay in her home. But fate isn’t finished yet. Fabian’s visit stretches longer than planned. To make matters worse, he is trapped in an on-and-off relationship, and also has a daughter. He knows the damage he’s causing. He knows that after everything Nadia’s husband has done for him, betraying him this way is unforgivable. Yet the pull toward Nadia is something he cannot control. What began as a single reckless moment spirals into a dangerous affair, one filled with desire, guilt, and secrets, threatening to destroy marriages, friendships, and the perfect life Nadia has built.