Central Cee Name Novels & Stories

Every Christmas Eve, the heir of the Marco mafia family—Adrian Marco, must follow the family tradition: Draw a name to decide whether he’s allowed to marry me. Because I, Irene Cast, am not mafia-born. Unless he draws the slip with my name on it, he can’t take me as his wife. For four years, Adrian has drawn four times. And not once did he draw my name. I always thought he fought with his family because of me— that he was willing to risk losing his position as the Don, just to choose me. Every time he failed, he held me so tightly and whispered, “It’s okay. There’s always next year.” And I loved him so much it hurt. Hurt enough that I was willing to wait, year after year. This year, I told myself: If he still doesn’t draw my name… I’ll secretly switch the result. I sneaked to the door of Adrian’s study, and heard his younger brother ask: “Don… every year you do draw Irene's name. Why do you pretend you didn’t? Is it because you still can’t let Sera go?” But he simply said, in a flat voice, “Sera needs me for something urgent. Do what you always do: swap Irene’s name for a blank one.” He walked out without looking back. Instead of swapping, he tossed the blank slip into the trash, left the one with my name on the table, and hurried after Adrian. I went inside, picked up the blank slip from the trash, and replaced the one with my name. Watching my own name fall into the garbage. Adrian…I don’t want to wait and marry you anymore. I’ll grant you your choice.

While we were eating, Tristan Shaw suddenly set down his fork and looked at me. “Who is Fatcat Cook?” The fork in my hand froze midair. My heart skipped a beat. Fatcat Cook. That name was someone Lena Moore and I made up on a drunken night. We had agreed that if anything ever went wrong and we couldn’t reach each other, we would use “Fatcat Cook” as a code. No one else knew that name existed. Only the two of us. And Lena had been missing for a full month. She said she was going to Valoria for a trip. Then she never came back. I looked at Tristan’s calm, almost indifferent face, and felt my heart sink. How did he know that name?

Shin. A fairly short name, but has a deep meaning. The name was a gift from my father. Dad said, "I don't want to burden you with the length of a name. Shin, I think this name suits you. For a personality that never complicates things."My life changed drastically after the death of my parents. My brothers did not guard me, but tortured me. Previously my house was like a palace, but now it is like a house in hell.However, the suffering that I thought would be eternal slowly disappeared after the presence of a strange man in my life. He thought that I was his lover in the past. The man made the flow of my life uncertain. Happy, sad, hurt, all I often feel. Especially when a woman returns who turns out to be the man's real lover.

"Falling for her soul" is a Paranormal Romance Fantasy that features 2 characters. A human guy by the name of Dustin and a witch by the name of Emma. "Falling for her soul" tells the tale of an unusual love story with ups and downs, drama, horror, and unconditional emotion for friendship and family. Dustin falls in love with Emma, but one day she leaves, never to be found. Whether or not does destiny bring them both together, and unravel the dark secrets, is yet to be found out.

Synopsis Something strange was happening in the werewolf kingdom. The humans finally knew the werewolves weakness. The wolves are forced to leave their home or face death. Will they be able to leave their home or will they be caught? Find out in this story. Except from story. "She is beautiful..." "yes, she is." "Fredrick, let's call her Isla." "Is that what you want to name her? You know that as long as you are happy, I'm happy too." "Yes. Her name will be princess Isla."

My name is Dylan Reed. I’m a senior college student on the track-and-field team.

In a world ravaged by global nuclear fallout, I struggled to survive alongside my fragile, sweet-faced best friend, dodging one radiation storm after another. The route to the Central Safety Zone was blocked—we had no choice but to use two detonators to blast open the tunnel. Otherwise, we would be caught in the storm, our bodies rotting away until we either dissolved into blood sludge or turned into zombies. … In my previous life, I had risked everything to secure those detonators, only for my best friend to hand them over to a complete stranger without hesitation. "They have elderly people and children on their side too," she said earnestly. "One detonator can save many lives. Iris, you can't be selfish." I was so furious my blood pressure nearly exploded, but with no other option, I went straight into a horde of zombies to steal backup detonators. I lost an arm in the process, drenched in blood and barely standing. Yet, she complained that I was covered in gore and had frightened the children. After finally regrouping with the main convoy, I rushed to deliver the formula for anti-radiation medicine to the research institute so that more people could be saved. But she accused me of stealing supplies and trying to flee, which led to my expulsion from the base, and death, my body rotting away under the radiation. When I opened my eyes again, there was still one hour left before the radiation storm hit. I looked down at the two detonators in my hand, then at my pitiful, tear-brimmed best friend—and I smiled. Since she loved being a good person so much, this time, I would let her be one to her heart's content.

Karen had invested her last penny in the business she had recently established and was eagerly awaiting the promised funds from her benefactor to take it to the next level. "Maybe he forgot. I should remind him," she thought, and promptly sent a text message: ‘I hate to sound desperate, but my finances are tight.’ After sending the message, she realized she had used the wrong number. She quickly started typing, ‘Please ignore the...’ when an alert popped up on her phone: ‘Five billion dollars transferred to you by Roger Dawson.’ Roger? The first name sent a chill down her spine, but the last name left her puzzled. "Roger? Could it be Tonia's bodyguard?" That was his number, but when did his name change? Her phone rang immediately, and the name she had feared for months echoed in her ears, his voice filled with emotion yet calm like a winter breeze. "Karen, stay put, I'm on my way to you." The call ended before she could process it. He was the reason she had fled, refusing to sign the divorce papers. Her love for him was unrequited, his heart belonging to her adopted sister, but what hurt more was the feeling of being traded between friends like a commodity. She would rather die than return.

My name is Jake Miller. I work part-time as a freelance errand runner.

My name is Themis and I am not supposed to be alive. I survived the hunt, saddled with a husband and still I have to waddle my way through so many things to remain alive at the end of the day. The one person I can count on other than myself is my new husband who saved my life from the get go. And my gift of prophecy. Maybe, just maybe, it is also enough to save the Dar Empire too. My name is Themis and this is my story.