Does MichelleMCL Collaborate With Other Streamers?

Faith McChrystal My mom taught me one important thing "Never trust anyone because they all leave when they're are done sucking you dry" And yes, that's how I ended up being a 24 year old single woman with no boyfriend, no girlfriend, no bestfriend but a shitty job and apartment. Life was normal until I found the job at C&S Clothing as the executive assistant. It's not a problem to work for a gay couple right? The problem is when the two sinister hot-as-hell bosses are the epitome of every fantasy you've had. Jared Scott and Hardin Calu were going to take me to an early grave. Hardin Calu I HATE WOMEN. I hate every fucking thing about them. That's why I was married to one and only man I had in my life. Jared! He was everything one could pray for. He saved me from my old self and turned me to a loving person. But fuck me, I was still cold and hard as ice. Everything that involved women made my skin crawl painfully. Their rosy scents and gloss-smeared lips, their tied skirts and slutty suits, fucking everything about them was a reminder of what happened. What made me scared. Until the little Faith McChrystal walked into that office. Jared Scott. Money! Power! A good marriage! I had it all. Life was beautiful with my man. Hardin Calu! He was a loving husband who'd wake me up with breakfast, and a kiss on my head, who'd kiss every pain away. Who made me see the world differently. I was complete with him. Or so I thought! Because a fucking nerdy chick walked into our office for interview and turned everything upside down!

To pay off my student loans, I started doing spicy streams online. I never thought I'd actually blow up. Every night, my audience floods the chat, fawning over my face and my body. I love the attention, and I work hard to give them what they want. Until I was dropped into a horror game. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a rotting corpse. And for some reason, my livestream was still running. When the game’s Boss told us all to pick a weapon to die by. The other players all chose to die of old age, or peacefully in their sleep like a baby. I turned my phone to face the boss. "My fans think you're hot," I stammered. "They want me to be killed by... well, by the weapon between your legs. They said 'deeply.' Is that... an option?" The other players whispered among themselves. “This woman must have a death wish.” “Just watch. The Boss is about to tear her to shreds.” But no one expected the Boss to blush.

A week after my engagement, I was delivered an unusual engagement gift. My phone chimed. I glanced down and saw a push notification from a social app. [Fell in love with a female livestreamer right before my engagement. I feel guilty toward my older girlfriend who's about to become my fiancée—how should I deal with this?] The user ID was "SimonLovesClaire." The profile picture showed a melancholy side view of a man wrapped in a gray scarf. I recognized him instantly. It was my fiancé, Simon Aldrich. That limited-edition scarf was the birthday gift I had given him last year.

My boyfriend's childhood sweetheart bound herself to a transfer system: everything she ate would be redirected straight into my stomach. She opened a streaming account and broadcast herself eating for twelve hours straight. She earned a fortune. Meanwhile, I collapsed with acute pancreatitis and was rushed to the hospital. When I explained the situation to my boyfriend, he only stared at me like I was insane. "How could something that absurd exist? If food could really be transferred, no one in the world would ever starve. You're just jealous that she's making money from streaming." After that, every time his childhood sweetheart went live, I ended up hospitalized again. I kept hovering between life and death. I sought medical help, but the doctors couldn't explain my condition. Some even wanted to commit me to a psychiatric ward. Then, one day, in order to outdo her rivals in a PK match, she devoured ten pounds of rice in a single sitting. At that very moment, my spleen and stomach ruptured, and I bled to death on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of her very first livestream. This time, I was prepared. I rushed out and bought twenty takeout meals. "This time," I said, "I'll eat first."

Violet eyes with piercing sight. Mane of gold in pale moonlight. Skin so hard and lily white. Voice so soft, yet filled with might. He comes to me in the dark of night. Flash of teeth, smile so slight. There is no fear, no need to fight. In his embrace, I crave his bite. -S.R. Michele, or Shelly to those closest to her, is a typical 21 yr old, trying to find her way in life. She has good family, a close circle of friends. She's outgoing and friendly, and a bit reckless and impulsive sometimes. And she has certain gifts...when she touches things, she can see into the past, she can feel what was felt by others, and she can sense things before they happen. Ok, so maybe she's not so typical. An impromptu trip to New Orleans, a party on Bourbon Street, and an attempted assault in a dark alley lead her into a world she didn't know existed...but one she's not afraid of. She doesn't know if the violet-eyed stranger that comes to her rescue, and follows her home, is a friend or a foe - and honestly, she doesn't care. Once you've had a taste of the darkness, it's hard to pull away... **** This book was written in the late 1990's - early 2000's, and originally published in 2004, under the title: Diary of a Vampire by S.M. Royston. It was my first book, and it wasn't long until I came to hate it! (Please, don't look it up - I promise you, it's terrible) So here we are, years later, and I've decided to throw out my original work, and re-write it. Because I'm the author, and I can do that. The story, characters, and settings are the same - but the writing style is different, and in my opinion, much, much better. I hope you enjoy it. ****

I was about to confess to my online chat partner in person when a barrage of comments suddenly flashed across my mind. [Don't bother. Jedediah is avoiding her right now. He's regretting ever mixing her up with someone else.] [It's all her fault for using a profile picture so similar to Georgia's. Otherwise, Jedediah wouldn't have gotten confused.] [It's annoying to think that when Jedediah lost a game, it was the supporting role, Monica, who comforted him. All those sweet words he said were meant for the female lead, Georgia.] [Jedediah is grossed out by it, too. Georgia only added him as a friend yesterday. It's so frustrating.] [Monica is a bane!] Dazed, I ran into Jedediah Merritt, who had just finished playing basketball. He quickly averted his gaze, but I moved around him, shoving the love letter into his roommate's hands. Online chat partner? I had more than one, sending my goodnight voice messages to several people every night.