Collage Series Novels & Stories

"So what did you do? He definitely wouldn't bring someone here for no reason." "It's a long and shocking story. I'm still struggling to believe it happened, especially in this day and age." Elena sighed, shaking her head. "I'm being held as collateral for my ex-husband's debt." "Collateral?" "Shocking, right? Your brother is a heartless devil." "That's strange." Sara's brows drew together. "Lu doesn't take people as collateral anymore. He stopped that a long time ago." Elena froze. "What do you mean?"

Cara was busy finding out everything about Hyper and everything she read kept surprising her, her eyes couldn't blink and her mouth wouldn't stop opening. Then there was a knock on the door, Rosie could be heard calling Cara from outside the room and Cara told her to come in. "What are you doing?" Rosie said, she walked over to Cara and sat on the bed, facing Cara who was still busy in front of her laptop. "Finding out something" Cara said, her eyes didn't move from the laptop screen in front of her. "What? Maybe I can help you" Rosie said. "And Cara, whose jacket are you bringing? Is this Alpha's jacket you told me about?" Rosie said.

The tension in the room extinguished, they returned to painting in a companionable silence for a long while each lost in their own thoughts of the other. Then, Howie Day’s Collide started playing over the speakers. Dani’s arm seemed to stop painting of its own accord. This had been one of the songs they had both loved and listened to in the bed of Levi’s truck many times, looking at the stars. The memories flooded her as she listened to the haunting chorus about people making mistakes, falling down but finding the person you are meant to be with anyway. Love conquering all.

There was a sudden silence in the office after Martina left. And the atmosphere became awkward. Mariane looked around and noticed the beauty of its modern and minimalist design. The ripple fold curtain is open to block the sunlight through the floor-to-ceiling window. There were black couches at the center of the room where he receives his visitors. There were also two chairs opposite each other in front of his desk and built-in bookshelves. There is also a large painting of a woman with her back turned and walking down the dark path to the narrow road, which caught her attention. Mariane narrowed at the image.

She was getting bored. She went into the study to search for a new fantasy book. Alberto, her brother, added a new collection after fifteen days. He knew his sister loved to read fantasy books instead of love stories. She was running her fingers over the queue of the book's titles. "Twilight, Dead Beautiful, The Kiss of Deception, Relentless." She whispered the names of the titles, "City Of Bones," She pulled it out from the queue. She hadn't read it.

He said. I thought about it. Sharing space with Cole and building a home together. "Can I think about it?" "Of course. No pressure. But yeah, think about it." Walking back to the dorm, I was buzzing. Not with anxiety. With possibility. Two weeks later, campus art exhibition opening. Sage has three pieces displayed. I arrived early to see them before the crowds. First piece: "Fracture", the fragmented mirror painting from her portfolio. Second piece: "Reconstruction", a girl putting herself back together with gold.

The series consisted of six photographs. Each depicted a model, her torso only. In each photograph, the model wore less and less clothing until, in the final piece, she was completely nude, her breasts covered only by her posed arm, while the other cradled her large belly. The composition and slow removal of clothing were all in service to highlight her swelling abdomen. Beside each photograph was an ultrasound picture depicting the developing baby within courtesy of the Hôpital de Paris. Beside the final photograph, the ultrasound depicted two fetuses cradled together, revealing the meaning of the series title: Two Hearts.

Watched how the artist carefully worked around the scars instead of hiding them completely. At one point, Lance frowned slightly. “You’re not covering the scar,” he said. The artist shook his head. “No. I’m using it.” “Using it?” He pointed lightly with his pen. “See this long scar? That’s the body curve now. And this raised part? That becomes the spine ridge. When it heals, it’ll look like the snake is moving under your skin.” Lance stared at his arm, suddenly very quiet. The scars that he hated, that he couldn’t stop looking at, that reminded him of pain and fear, were now becoming part of something dangerous and beautiful.

I am sorry I would be stopping this book and possibly delete it as I have lost the inspiration or the storyline for Collide. I thank everyone of you for reading my book so far. I am really over whelmed. I have personal things going, and hence, I cannot continue this book. Don't worry too much as I have another book. "The Protectors" ongoing. Hope you use the book as a replacement for "collide" even though Gemma and Kayden are forever priceless.

As for the building collapse that killed me, it was orchestrated by the official's wife. She had secretly hired a construction crew to sabotage the structure, intending to eliminate her husband's mistress under the guise of an accident. The only actual victim in this entire scheme was me, an innocent bystander who had lost my life in the process. When the truth came to light, Joel's hair turned white overnight. He ran over Priscilla with his car, killing her, and was subsequently institutionalized due to severe mental instability. His condition was dire. He spent his days clutching a doll, mumbling to himself, "Arie, do you like me? Let's be together, okay?