F And P Reading Novels & Stories

Makayla Stass is paparazzi, well that's until she goes undercover as Mega Superstar Justin Star Ryders assistant in order to do one big story that will propel her into the big leagues with Flair Mag, the Largest Gossip company in hollywood, who are more than willing to hire her, if she gets the story done. All she needs is one story and the pig headed, mentally demented, Justin Star Ryder is the exact celebrity she needs. *** Justin Star is looking for his Cinderella, excuse me Ariel, whatever you call the girl that saves you from drowning then leaves before catching her name or her face. Being one of the most followed Celebrities in the world, with crazy fans and depressed nights, fighting against his anger, alcohol, a dark secret and a sickness he uses against women, Justin finds himself slowly dying on the inside. That's not until one very stuck up, talkative, Nosy, pain in the ass assistant comes in forcing her dark hair and brown eyes smack into his life. Not really wanting someone like that, the two go head to head in a battle of dominance, but it's not before long Justin discovers something about this girl, allowing himself to fall for her, despite his better judgement and warning bells. *** An "I hate you" To "I can't live without you" Story.

When her rich roommate invited Olive to her summer home for spring break, she had one request. Do not sleep with my brother. How hard is going to be to comply to that request? And what will be the fall out if she doesn't?

BOOK ONE:“You can fight me all you want, Grace, but you can't ignore what you feel for me forever. If neither of us reject each other the bond only grows stronger. You feel it don't you, your need for me," He calmly said, inching his way toward me. I glared at him, the sound of his voice had me pooling in my. I hated that, hated that all it took was his voice to turn me on, "You're not my mate. I refuse to believe it!" Was all I said before I stormed out of there.__________________________After a drunken one night stand with a stranger, Grace Evans wakes up with a note left at her bedside. The last words of the note both startle and confuse her especially since she saw her mate die in front of her very eyes. What happens when the mysterious stranger now comes to claim her? Will she give in to him or will she reject him, killing his wolf and breaking his heart?

In a world where the gods of legend have become actual fact, a few misnomers from another planet seek to simply live their lives in peace. If you could choose one word from the dictionary, one that simply defines you to the core of your soul, what would you say your definition is?

After transmigrating into a horror game, I realize I can hear ghosts' inner thoughts. "Oh, look, a human! I need to give her a pet!" "Why can't I touch her? Move! I gotta touch her!" "Humans! She's so tame that she's even letting us pet her!" My inner thoughts scream, "Damn it. Now I feel like a monkey in the zoo."

When down on her luck Abigail is approached outside her job, she has no idea that she has been located by her long lost father, who happens to be a billionaire. She decides to move into her father’s large home and finds herself targeted by her nasty stepmother and scheming half-sister. Abigail tries to adjusts to her new life of wealth and privilege, and then she meets Mark, the handsome gardener that’s hiding a massive secret. Will Abigail find a place where she belongs in new this world of glittering parties and cut throat business deals, or will she have to return to her old life, maybe with a new love?The Lost Heiress and the Secret Billionaire is created by Hannah Tatum Reading, an eGlobal Creative Publishing author.

I was reborn on the very day my sister, Leena Fox, and I were choosing our mates. That was also when my mind-reading ability awakened. I heard her thoughts clearly. [I'm taking Collin! Ella can get Ethan, that emotionally abusive lunatic.] She lunged forward and claimed the so-called kind, gentle man I had married in my last life, while I was left with the Alpha heir who held real power but was rumored to be ruthless and cold. I let out a quiet laugh. Did she really think she had won some kind of prize?

I quit and dipped. City threw a parade. Only Jenna Blake—my oh-so-gifted junior who claimed she could "see through killers' eyes"—lost it. At her celebration banquet, she went full drama queen: "I owe everything to Kate Mercer. Please, bring her back!" I laughed. Cold. Not happening. Last time around, I was the hotshot detective. But every clue I found? She dropped it first like she read my mind. People started saying I was washed. So I went all in—three months, no sleep, cracked a massive trafficking ring. Led the raid myself. She beat me there. Again. Place was cleaned out. Boom. She's the city's golden girl. I'm the clown with no game. Pressure got ugly. My head snapped. I died chasing the last scumbag. Then—bam. I woke up. Same day. Raid morning. Round two.

My wife had risen through the ranks of the Confidential Bureau, becoming its youngest team leader—all thanks to the "voice" of the baby boy in her womb, who could somehow identify traitors from within. When the holidays came, I went to visit her. But the moment I arrived, I heard the voice of that unborn child in her belly. "Ah, it's Bad Daddy! He's the one who's been secretly selling off the core technology!" I froze, stunned. Before I could even speak, my wife raised her gun and fired. The bullet tore through my shoulder. "Who did you sell the technology to? Talk!" Through the searing pain, I struggled to explain. "I don't even know what technology you're talking about. How could I possibly—" Her expression turned glacial. Without a word, she lifted the gun again and pulled the trigger, blowing my head apart. "Mommy is amazing! Bad Daddy is finally gone. The stolen data is all hidden on that USB drive." Even as I died, I couldn't understand how I had become a traitor. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the visit. This time, I took the initiative. I pulled out the USB drive and handed it to my wife. "If this is the evidence you want," I said, "go ahead, shoot me."

It's 11:30 pm. Home alone, I decide to order some takeout. When the map shows the delivery guy is zero miles away, I receive a call from him. I pick up, only to hear unsettling silence from the other end. I hang up, annoyed. The next moment, the guy texts me, "Sorry, I'm hearing-impaired and unable to speak. I called to notify you to pick up your food as soon as possible. I can't explain things over the phone, and I apologize for that." Then comes another text. "You must've been waiting for a long time. I've left your order at your door, so please pick it up as soon as you can." Just as I prepare to open the door, I see bars of live comments—reminiscent of livestream chats—floating right before my eyes. "Don't open the door! That dude isn't a delivery guy at all! He's a murderer!" "He called you to check if you're a woman living alone!" "Seriously, why are all thriller story protagonists always so dumb? The delivery guy is obviously suspicious, yet she still wants to open the door."