Who Won Thenextbigwriter Contest Last Year?

Seven years ended with one ringtone at the altar. One quiet apology, then he walked away to the pregnant ex he once called a mistake, leaving me beneath crystal lights and camera flashes, the perfect discarded bride. Publicly humiliated. I made a decision that shocks them all. I married Adrian, Marcus’s estranged elder stepbrother, the self-made billionaire their father once discarded. Cold. Untouchable. Far more powerful than the heir who betrayed me. Our marriage is a contract. He needs stability to secure his corporate takeover. I need a throne high enough to watch Marcus fall. But our 'fake' touches turn into an obsession neither of us can control. Now I’m carrying Adrian’s child the true firstborn heir of the legacy built on betrayal And this time, I’m not the woman left behind. I'm the prize.

A month before the SATs, I, Jenny Reid, could see my score. Literally. It was just floating right above my head. But there was a catch. Every time I cracked open a prep book, my score would drop by ten points. But if I skipped a day of school? It jumped right back up by ten. So, I played the system. For a whole month, I barely lifted a finger. And on the day of the test, the number glowing over my head was a solid 1560. When the scores finally dropped online… I'd scored a 500. And the 1560? That was my little sister Patricia's score. My parents lost it. As punishment, they got me a grueling night-shift job at a local electronics factory. That first night, a bunch of guys I'd never seen before cornered me in the parking lot and beat me half to death. Fading in and out of consciousness, I heard my sister's voice right by my ear. "You just had to one-up me, didn't you? Thought you were so smart… but you never figured out I was the one controlling that number over your head." The truth hit me like a physical blow. The score had been her trick all along. I opened my eyes—and I was back. One month before the SATs. The number above my head read exactly 1300. "Hey," my sister said, all fake sweetness. "Want to study together tonight? We can go over the practice tests." I looked at the stack of papers in my own hands. Without a word, I pulled out my lighter and set them on fire right there in the driveway. "Exams are coming," I said, watching the flames. "I'm not studying." My score ticked up to 1310. My sister's face was this perfect mask of disappointment, but the second I turned away, I caught the sly smile she couldn't quite hide. She had no idea… the real performance, the one I'd been rehearsing just for her, was finally about to begin.

"Please teach me to become a better writer!" "Oh?" Joaquin got his glass sipped his whiskey as he looked at me in a condescending manner. "I need something in return," he teased as he put his glass down on the table, making me nod excitingly. "Yes, yes! I would do anything you ask for!" Hearing her feedback, he stood up from his chair then walked towards me, chuckling. "Erm..." I stepped away from him, now bumping my back on the wall behind me. Surprised, I gasped as he did a breathtakingly hot "kabe-don". He then spoke near my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "What if I ask... for a collaboration?" --- Haven Thorne, a young woman who is eager to become a great writer, secretly attended a party that was hosted by a popular and rich top author, Joaquin Greyson. Wanting to learn from the great writer, Haven gathered her courage and visited his home for consecutive days even after the constant rejections. Irritated, Joaquin entertained the persistent woman to stop her. Seeing her determination however, piqued his interest and had agreed to her request—even asking for a collaboration! Will the top author really be willing to teach the newbie, or will he lose his patience? Will she able to meet the demands of her experienced mentor, or will she disappoint him? With that in mind, what will their pen and passion teach them? Love, hate… or something more?

They say, love approaches you at the peak of your youth, but in some cases it happens earlier than expected. Though you don't expect love, it is ageless, timeless, and placeless. Here's an African story of love, a love unexpected , untold, a love that changes , a love that heals. Here's an unconditional love between two uncommon and unlikely persons, two teens though they were world apart, they didn't care, though they were class difference, they cared less. "Adure look into my eyes and tell me you don't love me" These were his words before they parted , a space that made him realize just how much he needed her, a break that made her realize she needed him more than she needed her next breath. I know what your questions may be , what caused Their separation? What transpired between them? How long was the break and oh! What is the lover boy's name. Why don't you find out your self by reading this intriguing Iove story , this undying love story. Oh also this question, how does a break , a big break as that , makes one realize how much he or she longs for / love themselves more, well dear readers it all happened in THAT ONE BIG BREAK

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The day I announced I was quitting writing, the entire internet celebrated. Everyone except my girlfriend's rumored boyfriend, the famous mystery author, Bryan Vega. In a short video, he looked genuinely regretful. "This is all a misunderstanding. I’ve always admired Kobi’s work, and I hope he’ll come back for the sake of his readers." I turned off my phone and ignored him completely. In my previous life, the web novel I wrote was identical to the mystery novel he published. People online called me a plagiarist and wished death on my whole family. I tried to defend myself, posting my drafts, outlines, and timestamps. Yet, it didn't matter. The last edit timestamp on his document was ten minutes earlier than mine. Just those ten minutes destroyed me. The messages never stopped. Strangers flooded my inbox with insults. Some even showed up at my house and threw paint on the walls. Years of nonstop harassment dragged me into depression. My parents tried to clear my name, but obsessed fans hunted them down and murdered them using methods copied straight from his novel. In the end, on the very day his book won a major award, I sealed my windows and burned charcoal, ending my life. And then, I opened my eyes again. I had returned to the day my new book was supposed to be released.