Beyond Words Publishing Novels & Stories

ONLY good stories can get you exclusive contracts, nothing else. ONLY good stories can get you a high profit, nothing else. ---- (asked like a dozen times today, so updated this question here. 20230915

It tasted like the night we carved our names into wood and believed wood could outlast empires. It tasted like the valley I will never reach and the children whose names I still whisper to the stars. If anyone ever finds this diary, tell them the last safe word worked. It just took sixty years for the right creatures to hear it. Tell them two teenagers invented a silly word because they thought the universe had no imagination. Tell them the universe listened harder than we ever did. Tell them a boy kept a pomegranate in his fist until it bled through his fingers and still never said the word.

Maybe then she’ll understand the pieces of me I’ve never been able to put into simple words. When my son naps, I write. When Tessa is at her art class down the street, I write. When the apartment falls silent in the evenings, I write until my eyes burn and the screen blurs. It’s the most personal thing I’ve ever created. And it terrifies me. Because the question isn’t whether it’s good. The question is whether I’m brave enough. If I publish this, I’m not just releasing a book into the world. I’m opening myself like a wound for strangers to prod at. Anyone who knows me could connect the dots. And Noah, God, Noah, could connect the dots too.

Content Warning: This chapter contains themes with institutional abuse, psychological manipulation, and implied violence. Reader discretion advised. The dormitory lights clicked off at eleven and I lay in the dark counting every breath like it might be the last one that still belonged to me. The key was warm in my palm. I kept running my thumb across the letters scratched into the metal and trying to decide what they meant now. T-O-B-Y. Either the most real thing in this place or the most carefully constructed lie I had ever been handed.

The little garden where she went to escape her reality was beautiful but it was nothing compared to this. “What is this place?”. “Welcome to Lemoria. The land of dreams'', her mother said. “So I’m dreaming? And you are not real?”. “My little swan, anything is as real as you believe it to be”. “Why am I here?” “Your subconsciousness brought you meaning you are battling the events of your reality. What is wrong Crystal?” “Everything Mum, Logan signed off the company, then he signed me off to a man I do not know and I’m scared Mum.

Sophia admitted softly. For a moment, Mrs. Hale said nothing. Then she gave a thin, polite smile. “That’s understandable. But I’m afraid our internal ownership records aren’t open to the public. We protect the privacy of our executives.” Sophia’s shoulders sank slightly. “I see.” Mrs. Hale tilted her head slightly, her eyes studying Sophia’s face more closely now. “May I ask—what made you so curious about Brooks Industries, Miss Brooks?” Sophia hesitated. “I… recently learned about some connections between this company and my husband’s firm. And—well, I’ve also heard things that made me wonder if maybe my family is somehow tied to it.”

"Something came through. Something from the other side." I felt the words like frost across my spine. The Underworld. The place of shadows, magic, and monsters. It was a legend, only a ghost story, it couldn't have been real, and yet if it wasn't how else would we explain the chaos before us? Malen would never lie to me, he had a weird sense of humour but I could feel he was telling the truth about this one. The urgency in his voice and the raw fear I saw in his eyes was enough confirmation.

It had been six days since the conference. Ryan’s inbox was still full strangers, survivors, and students all sending one thing: Gratitude. Some shared their own stories. Some said Ryan’s words had helped them finally end toxic relationships. Some… just said thank you. But one email stood out. Subject: Independent Publishing Proposal – “The Blog That Broke Us” Hi Ryan, I’m a freelance editor with IndieSeed Publishing. One of our scouts attended the conference this week and forwarded me a copy of your speech. I also found your archived blog posts and your narrative voice really struck me.

“The T****k one.” “He’s a choreographer who happens to post videos.” Kairo heard the sharpness in his own voice a second too late. Sienna raised an eyebrow, but he ignored it. “Okay,” she said. “The choreographer, then. How’s that going?” “Fine. Good. He’s good at his job.” “You’ve said ‘good’ two times in one sentence.” She took a sip of her wine, watching him over the rim of the glass. “That’s usually how I know there’s something you don’t want to talk about.”

You won't be disappointed a bit ❤️ Beyond the Guilty Pleasure © 2023 by Fantasia Swan ALL RIGHTS RESERVED . No part of this book will be copied, reproduced, or used in any written document, electronic, recording or photocopying without the prior permission of the publisher or the author. However, promotions are welcome only by tagging he site and the author. Nor do I expect any kind of vulgar comments from you guys. You are welcome for fair criticism, but not vulgarity.