Countdown Book Novels & Stories

“unlucky contestants…shelf two, book thirteen.” It sounded oddly like a personal note. My curiosity won out and I skimmed my fingers along the spines of the books until I chose one at random. I pulled out a medium-sized book, a deep shade of navy blue. Earthen twine was wrapped around the book, and there was a picture on the front. A middle-aged man with chocolate hair and dark eyes smiled up at me. The cover of the book read, “Arthur Zimmerman, Game 71.

Twelve hours. That’s what the countdown clock says. Twelve hours until Aria arrives. Twelve hours until Evelyn’s ghosts try to kill us. I’m sitting in the penthouse study, surrounded by screens. But I’m not looking at security feeds. I’m looking at a blank page. "It needs a title," my publisher said yesterday over a secure line. She’s fast-tracked the book. The world wants to know the story of the woman who broke the internet and then married it.

Grandma's voice was trembling as she bellowed, "Linda Mills! Ash is your son, too!" Mom wanted to say something, but Grandma cut her off, saying, "I know Eli has a tragic fate, born with that cursed countdown. I also know you feel sorry for him and want to give him the absolute best to let him leave in peace."

Ash had a pile of things he needed to do today, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Violet’s books. He’d gone over the spreadsheets, the receipts, the bank statements—all of it. The numbers on the bank statements and spreadsheets didn’t add up, yet Ash couldn’t figure out why. Tired and frustrated, he’d gone to bed well after three in the morning Sunday night.

As the thud of the heavy leather hit the floor and echoed throughout the endless room, books started flying off the shelves, pages fluttering towards me in a whirl of turbulence, surrounding me like a twister. An abundant amount of words flamed from each page that quivered like a feather as it blew around me. The words; burned their sacred information into my eyes, soaking up each and every paragraph and phrase, a fountain of knowledge hurling itself at me and my wolf, consuming me and etching their distinct meaning into my very consciousness. And amongst the fluttering fury surrounding me, I saw Kellen, watching. “Miss. Langley, would you care to answer the question?” huh? I had tuned every

Finally. She need not pretend any longer. In William’s arms was where she wanted to be. ~The End~ Look for these books in this series: Let's Fall in Love Again (book 2) Let's Create a Wonderland (book 3) Let's be Together (book 4)

Welcome to unedited Black book 3 of the Woods series. This book can be read independently. You can read it without adventuring into 'Married to a stripper'. I'll be extremely happy if those who haven't checked that book out do so. I hope you enjoy my works. Love you guys much much. Your humble author Zagzahzlau. ~••~ The Sunday night was frigid against unarmed skin in Buea--the city of legendary hospitality-- located in the southwest region of Cameroon.

No One POV . . . Author Note: You guys will read the details of how all the things happened in my other featuring the lead role of Mishri & Eklavya (BAD BOY’S VIXEN). I will start this book in January. Before that, I need to end this book. . . Back to the story! .

I placed the papers on the table, neat and tidy. I was going to leave a message for her, but I did not go through with it. Instead, I said it in my mind, 'Hey honey, this is the last time I'm calling you that, I guess. I spent ten years in love with you. It's really hard doing that, I know, but I'm giving up anyway. Congratulations, to both you and me.' I grabbed my suitcase. The moment the countdown was over, I put my hand on the doorknob.

In a feverish haze, I heard the doorbell ring. The delivery guy called out, "Delivery for Mr. Hendrick." I smiled as I took it from the delivery guy and thanked him. I was going to laugh at James for being childish. After all, before falling asleep, I had only mentioned that I had a fever. Yet he had already ordered medicine for me. However, when I opened the delivery bag and saw what was inside, my expression froze. Condoms and lubricant were right there in plain sight, and even the toy in my hand made my head spin. Just as I took out my phone, ready to demand an explanation from my husband, a text message suddenly popped up. "This is Sangland Resortworld. Dear Mr. Hendrick, we are de