Author Of The Summer I Turned Pretty Novels & Stories

At that moment, a boy walked up to Summer. "Hey, are you Summer Hills? You look like the kid in Summer's Adventures. Are you the author?" he asked with sparkling eyes. Summer glanced at Louis and Sky with a proud smile. Getting a nod from her parents, she straightened her shoulders. "Yes, I'm Summer Hills. I'm the author of this book." The boy's eyes lit up. "Cool! Can I have your autograph? I'm a huge fan of yours!" "Sure. Where do you want me to sign?"

Hypocrites. I'm drawn to the commotion nearby. Reporters swarm around a figure, firing off probing questions. My curiosity piqued, I inch closer, wondering who's capturing their attention. It's Kim Haeyeon, the renowned author, also known by her pen name Shell Kim. Her works are truly captivating. The name "Shell" symbolizes the treasure trove of valuable pearls within, reflecting the precious gems found in her writings. Her unique pen name resonates deeply with her esteemed literary contributions.

The snow-white petals bloomed delicately against my pale fingertips, and that memory had pushed him to leave that small house in a hurry. He continued along the path, but it seemed endless. Anxiety clawed at his chest, and he pressed his hand over his heart, feeling it pound violently. Before the hypnosis ended, Ethan found himself awake. The psychiatrist held the notebook from the session. Words filled the pages. [Fall University. Going to Fall University. Take Sadie to Fall University. Fall University on Richmond Road.] “Mr. Jones, your memory seems to be jogging. I suggest you visit Fall University,” the psychiatrist said, laying the notes in front of him.

I unfolded the paper with sheer inquisitiveness, it read; 'Tomorrow, at closing period. Three Horns bar... be early.' Was this some kind of date with Salene, the number one beauty in our class? She rarely talks, though remained one of the most discussed topics in class. We all saw and spoke highly of her. She was perfection personified. A Cinderella in a modernized world. "S–sorry, wh–" I looked up and saw her walking at a distance, she didn't even care to explain what the paper was for, though I had my ideas but still...

And then there were Marianne and Elena—inside, carrying the weight of summer storms long past, and secrets that stretched across years like invisible threads. Gemma opened her notebook, pen poised above the blank page. She didn’t know what she was about to write—an observation, a story, a warning. Maybe all three. But she knew one thing: this summer wasn’t just fleeting warmth and careless laughter. It was a convergence, a delicate balance of past and present, of choices and consequences.

But a sudden strange noise coming from the back startled me. I went to see what is happening but to my surprise a young lady wearing a torn golden dress was struggling to climb the back gate. Her golden-brown hair with a half bun tied with a yellow ribbon was gorgeously flowing. She's like someone who came out of the fairytale books. Very extraordinary and enchanting. "Hey!" I shouted but she became more desperate to climb when she saw me. "I can open the door for you." I came to her and offered to open the gate

Ian I watched from my seat as Summer walked up to the podium in the Charlotte Art Museum, fidgeting with her dress. What a dress it was, too. Long, deep burgundy, and a slip-satin that hugged her hips and waist. The neckline swept low, peeking at the swell of her breasts. The tone complimented her skin, especially when she blushed, and it was really damn difficult watching her move in that thing when all I could think about was getting it off her.

~Miss Pretty Seeing the first page of her diary made her cry. That was the time she started to write a diary about her feelings for Thyago. That was the time she started to foolishly fall for him. When she looked closely at the page, something suddenly took her attention when she saw a little note written below her notes. When she checked it, it was like a note so she read it. Dearest Miss Pretty: I have a confession to make. The very first time I saw that cute little girl named Bea, I know something strange tugged in my chest deep inside and maybe I'm not aware of it. She was so adorable, cute, shy, and smart.

Chapter V: Memories It was a little blurry and muddled but Ren was sure it was a tiny memory of long back then. It was from one of his adventures as a rebellious child, he’s small though. He likes to escape and sneaks out of the house whenever the babysitter has fallen asleep, but Ren is a good little kid you see, he always makes sure to be back before they notice he’s missing. It was near winter, the remnants of autumn season was slowly fading and the wind began to get more chilly in the morning and every night. Although not cold enough to puff a smoke when talking.

It was nagging her to have betrayed Randall. Oh, damn it! She does not betray him because, in the first place, she has no relationship with Randall. "Hello." She smiled frugally at him. "Oh, you should sit there next to Shean, okay?" said Summer after. "Shean?" Blake asked. "I thought she was Spring Solitaire." “Yes. That’s her pen name. ” Summer turned to them. "He sent a friend request to your writer's account, but you didn't accept him, so that's why he just asked me to introduce him to you personally."