Average Novel Word Count Novels & Stories

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'

A blizzard had buried the mountain, turning every road into a death trap. Locals called it Deadman's Pass—seventy-two icy switchbacks with zero room for error. As the only person who had ever made it through without a scratch, I'd just gotten a million-dollar rescue call from beyond the final curve. Ten years ago, I went there once. My seventeen-year-old daughter, Maya, was skydiving with her classmates when a violent air current forced an emergency landing. The rescue came too late. She died there. Later, I learned my husband, Jayden Boone, had ignored Maya's safety. He poured hundreds of thousands of dollars into the rescue effort and redirected every team to save his ex's daughter instead. The girl had only sprained her ankle on a hiking trip. The day Maya died, I walked away from my career as a professor and stayed here, living as a broke driver. I risked my life running Deadman's Pass again and again until I knew every turn by heart. In the ten years since, no one else had died on that road. Today, a friend shoved a million-dollar rescue job in front of me and told me to leave right away. I looked at the face in the photo—the one I could never forget. Then I smiled and tossed my keys onto the table. "I can't take this job."

The mountain has gotten sealed due to the heavy blizzard. As the only driver who has cleared the winding mountain road with 72 bends repeatedly without a casualty under my belt, I've received a ten-million-dollar rescue order to rescue someone at the end of the treacherous road. Ten years ago, I had been there once. Back then, my daughter, Hannah Reed, and her classmates were met with a storm turbulence when they went parachuting. Left without a choice, they activated the emergency landing protocols. But Hannah, my darling daughter whom I had doted on and loved for 17 years, ended up dying there due to the search and rescue team not arriving in time. Later on, I found out that my wife, Grace Ellwood, completely disregarded Hannah's safety. Instead, she chose to dump a million dollars into rerouting the entire search and rescue team to another route, where they ended up rescuing Grace's first love, Elias Quinn's daughter, Kiara Quinn. The thing was, Kiara had merely twisted her ankle from climbing the mountain that day. After Hannah's death, I give up on my prestigious career as a professor and retreat all the way to this place willingly as a low-income driver. Since then, I keep driving down the road of death over and over again, with my life hanging on the balance. I take the time to remember every single bend of the road. For the next ten years, no one else dies on this mountain. Today, my best friend, Julian Hayes, issues me the ten-million-dollar rescue request. Apparently, I am to set off immediately.

On my twentieth birthday, my father asked me to draw from a box of straws. It was to pick a husband between William Smith and Austin Smith to inherit North Town. The short straw represented Austin, while the long straw represented William. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get the long straw. However, I was certain that I did not want to marry Austin. I drew straws for three years, but it was to no avail. I had no choice but to tamper with the straws to marry William as I wished. However, ten years into our marriage, he was no longer gentle and kind. He had turned into a really cold person. He neither returned home nor touched me. Even when I threatened him with a knife, he refused to talk to me. Despite feeling hurt, I was unwilling to let him go. That was until I watched him kick away the only medicine I had for my asthma while I was writhing on the floor. “I was the one who switched out the straws. There was no long straw, yet you forced me to marry you. Mandy died from a broken heart, so you should pay with your life.” When I opened my eyes again, I was holding a short straw. I calmly said, “Since it’s the short one, I choose Austin.”

His father disappeared; his brother committed suicide. Thomas Mayo, the God of War, returned, and he swore that he would take revenge…

Diego strolled into his apartment, his heels clinking softly against the marble floor. He tossed his blonde wig on the couch, and his soft fingers propelled forward to count the dollar bills in his hands. “You're out crossdressing again?” His uncle, Roberto, a tall imposing figure with gray streaks on his hair walked into the room. “I might just have the perfect job for you,” Roberto chuckled softly and tossed a gun at Diego. “What?!” Diego's breath hitched in his throat as he swallowed the weight of the mission his uncle proposed. Cross dressing was one thing that Diego did with ease. There was no way he could do what his uncle requested; assassinating the infamous mafia lord of the Rocco empire. He stood in front of a mirror, holding the gun that Roberto had handed to him. There was no way that this soft and delicate hand could pull a trigger. Diego didn't expect that the mafia lord he was set up against was going to be a man who'll make his heart flutter. He tried to resist, bracing himself to complete his mission. But things only got heated when he found himself “entangled in the rival's hold.”

"A contract??" Her eyes squinted, amused at the papers right in front of her. Her arranged husband was being ridiculous and unreasonable, but since they had no feelings or whatsoever for each other, she didn't object and sign the papers. Where as she was finding it hard to cope with her loneliness in the house, Lucas was outside having fun with his mistresses. Jasmine had to endure the pains, atleast for her grandfather's sake. He was on a sick bed now, giving him a bad news about her marriage wasn't a good decision. What happened when her grandfather died? Jasmine requested for Divorce and shocked her husband. He never saw it coming but Jasmine didn't care and was set to move on with life now instead of continuously being locked up like his scape goat. What happened when she finally left the house?

Khloe Maureen Neufeld, a Filipino-Australian exchange student of Vanshelleton University to America whose average grade is always 1.00% making her the only female student who ever achieve that marks throughout the history of the said Institution. With that, she's dubbed as the "Genius Queen". On her stay in America, she met Timothy Clarke Schubert: a bad boy and a gangster's mastermind who only cares about three things: Music, beer, and S*x. Will the genius fall for this type of guy despite her motto, "Don't choose what's wrong"?

Alex Cider T. Grit was an average student who turned the Mainland upside down as a mechatronics expert. Other than being an average student, she also has several hard-to-guess identities that could shake the world. Along with the appearance of this mechatronic expert, the mysterious and exotic VIPs also rushed into the mainland and they only followed the order of an unnamed person AKA Alek Cider. Alek Cider had no plan to hide her identity but the VIPs kept insisting. They also pampered her to the core. However, their boss only cared about her machines, games, and… and… another person they could not offend-- the lazy, psychotic CEO of Trojan Empire! Storm always passed through her nose yet she had no idea about it. Even the VIPs could only shut their mouths. Would the CEO, concealed as a pitiful young man, be able to keep his identity? Or was he long busted by this carefree boss? This is the noble journey of an orphan who perseveres with grit towards the road of the Second Revolution and a laid-back CEO who sought the care of the girl from 10 years ago. -- + Slowburn Romance, Business, Technology, Light Novel

The life cycle of a butterfly lasts for an average of thirty days. In human time that was nothing. Within that thirty days the butterfly would go through the craziest of cycles, starting as an egg enclosed within a shell that is both impenetrable and fragile. Then that shell would break to let out a creature that was hideous and scary and weird. Soon the creature would enclose itself completely for the second time, never to be seen like that again. It was a period of transformation. In thirty days, a butterfly's life will be complete, coming out of the cocoon as a changed and majestic creature. But humans aren't butterflies and thirty days weren't enough. Book cover credits to the amazing A-Graphics (@hiagraphics). Check her works on https://www.facebook.com/hiagraphics/