Book About Jimmy Page Mga Nobela at Kwento

Hi Reader It's your Author Perpi Jimoh. Thanks for taking out time to read my book I really appreciate it. This writing journey had been a roller coaster of emotions and I still find it hard to grasp that this story has really ended. I started the story as a joke, literally to test my brain I should say. Something not serious as I was merely experimenting, trying to put all elements that I’m bad at in a story and I truly didn’t expect anyone to read this amateurish gibberish.

“I’m not sure, but didn’t you notice anything strange about Becky and Victoria when you told the story about your friend Jimmy?” “Jimmy’s not my friend, just someone I’m helping out.” Jimmy is a thieving piece of shit, but from everything I’d learned, he hadn’t been a bad husband and father. Just poor, directionless, and lacking prospects as a high school dropout in one of the most career-oriented cities in the world.

“I’ve had a day.” Jimmy walked in last. Calm. Sharp. Dressed in that infuriatingly casual hacker-core hoodie with some ironic quote stitched across the back and boots that screamed I know where your secrets live. He gave me one long look over the rim of his iced coffee (with a biodegradable straw, obviously), pursed his lips, and flopped dramatically into the chair across from me. “Honey,” he said, eyes narrowing as he opened his laptop, “is this a ‘we’re all going to die dramatically in a fireball of cursed energy’ situation? Or is this more of a ‘digging up dead drama from your haunted bloodline’ thing?”

A picture came flying out from one of the books and my curiosity got the best of me, as I hurriedly picked it up. To my surprise, it was a picture of Jimmie in her room, testing out the hairpin. The angle of the picture looked like it was taken from her headboard and it's blur intensity, hinted that it was taken with urgency. "But how did Jimmie's picture end up in here?" My thoughts wandered inwardly. Jimmie wasn't a fan of pictures. She was extremely introverted and didn't fancy anything that would disrupt her comfort. If anything, she'd rather paint than take pictures.

He sat there for a moment, just watching me, considering my words. "I’ve been where you are, Mike," Jimmy said quietly. "Once, long ago, I looked a man in the eye and asked him to take care of her. And I trusted him. But people change. Life changes." He paused, his eyes glazing over for a second as if he were recalling a distant memory. "I’ve seen good men lose everything because they didn’t think it would happen to them."

“Any chance of having it delivered today?” “I can drop it ‘round when I close up,” he said with a wink. “Only if you promise to put me in your next book.” She grinned at him. “And what do you want to be this time?” she asked. So far Jim had made an appearance in several of her books, usually as a shady character who got killed off early. He loved it. “I’m thinking I want to be on the other side for a change, see how the other half live.” “Oh yes? A cop then?”

I stole it from him because he forbids me of touching his things in his workplace. The book title was "Beauty In Immortality", I wondered what is it all about but my forehead wrinkled when nothing was written inside the book. All of the pages were blank. I throw it in my bed and days passed. I opened it and started to see some words slowly written on the first page. It was magical like it was a book of magic. It was also creepy but I was interested and there I read a weird story that I realized was talking about me.

I don't know what got me more upset, maybe it's how I had to rush Violet out of the party or how Sophia has been a leach or Jim's presence and how the slutty Sophia is acting up around him but I nevertheless maintained my cool. "Hey man, how are you doing?", Jim said moving towards me in an embrace. Jim is such an asshole, a crazy ass nigga plus ruthless, I once heard that he was part of a drug and human trafficking ring but I never really bothered about him since he maintained his lane after our little scuffle years ago, but his stories of his ruthlessness has spread so wide that it sent shivers down the spine of othe parks but just two people aren't moved, Henry and I.

said Jimmy and then he was out of the room heading to the main room. Erika looks shocked to hear Jimmy's speech. What is the intent of the words of Jimmy? Why suddenly so? like a stranger after coming home from Bali? "Why mas Jimmy suddenly changed? What is it actually?" Erika could only mutter and wonder't matter what happened. But there is no explanation from the Jimmy to the present. Flashback ends ... "Huh ... Finally, I finished one chapter to be able to update tonight." murmured Erika after completing his writing.

Only a few people know my real name—Smokey Dalton—and even fewer know that Jimmy isn’t my biological son. I adopted Jimmy not quite legally after I had to get him out of Memphis two years ago. He had seen Doctor Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassin, and knew that the killer wasn’t James Earl Ray. I knew—and still know—that if the killers ever find out where Jimmy is, he won’t make it through the day. Jim was ten then. He would turn twelve a week from Thursday, and the Grimshaws and I had a surprise party planned for the weekend. Until he moved to Chicago, Jimmy had never had a party for his birthday, or much of a birthday at all.