Fanfiction House Novels & Stories

Imagination can provide knowledge, far from reality can provide "What are you finding this time?" Sophia asked her first customer of the day. "Mortal Fantasy Books." "Hmm, as usual, huh?" Sophia grabbed a book at the upper section of the shelf. She handed it to him. "Read this series, written by Lyn Francia." Alkhun looks at the thick book, written in bold italic letters. 'The Tower’s Myth.' "Lyn Francia?" He uttered out of familiarity. "You mean..." "Yes, Lyn Francia is one of the descendants of the Francia Family one of the 5 Elites family." Alkhun flips the cover of the dark red book and saw on the first page.

“Yes. He spent months working on it in his office and as soon as he finished it last week, he brought it down here.” “Why here? Why not out there in the main gallery?” Farida shrugged. “I don’t know. He has vehemently refused to display it and wouldn’t say why. You can’t imagine how frustrating it is for me to leave this beautiful body of work to remain hidden here like this. Trust me, if this baby makes it to the front, it will be snatched up within seconds.” “I know,” Erin agreed. “Does it have a title?” “A Werewolf Fantasy,” replied Farida quietly. “I love it.”

The staff stared at me in shock, frantically trying to clean up the mess. While they were distracted, I found Megan’s phone. In my previous life, even after marrying into our family, Megan kept up her affair with her ex-husband. She was constantly sending him money and sneaking him into our house whenever my dad was away. I accidentally walked in on them once, and that was when I realized Megan and her ex-husband weren’t done with each other. Their plan was to get rid of me first, then drain my dad’s bank accounts, and take over our home. They were like sneaky rats, always scheming to steal from the very people who took them in.

Fiona hurried towards the elevator, she couldn’t wait to leave her work place which felt like a sexual incantation to her lately. Colt screamed sex and she was loosing her cool. It was a good thing that it was past work time, she couldn’t wait to get home, have a cold bath and indulge in chocolates, reading a romance novel written by Bella that she didn’t even believe in the contents but had to do it anyways because to her, true love only exist in books and of course waiting for another day in sexual torture for a whole week until it was weekend when she could finally make her escape for a weekend without sexual tensions, which was becoming occasionally lately. She couldn’t remember the last

Hunter “I can’t believe an Omega lives here.” Connor growls as he looks around the kitchen; Fiona isn’t home so we’re sitting in the filthy house waiting for her to return. Starling is standing behind me; she’s holding her arms close like she’s trying hard not to touch anything, most Omegas like clean, soft things and this house is anything but soft or clean. I’m not sure if the mess happened after Faythe left to stay in the Packhouse or if it's always been like this. The entire house is covered in a layer of grime that I could never hope to remove; there are half-smoked cigarettes on the floor, ash seems to be embedded into the carpet, empty gin bottles are stashed on every avilable surface

>>> If you really want what you said, tie a green ribbon to your door handle and leave it unlocked. Instantly I stop walking, my thoughts immediately telling me what this person is talking about, and in a way, I don't think so... And so I type back a reply: <<< What do you mean? >>> Your fantasy. Staring at the reply that came almost immediately, my first thought is that it’s a prank, but my second is worse: I want it so bad that my thighs press together, and I draw in quick breaths, completely forgetting that I'm still outside on the empty streets by 9pm.

" Over the next two days, Marissa did exactly what she had done in my previous life. She pushed Sophie's image everywhere. In just forty-eight hours, the story that the Foster family had found a lucky charm spread through Harbor City's elite circles. Sophie didn't understand matches. She didn't read data. She relied on intuition alone and still called World Cup scores with perfect accuracy. Rumors exploded. "A girl in her twenties who doesn't even understand soccer? A lucky charm? That's absurd." "Has the Foster family lost its mind? They're really considering handing the book to the daughter of the second wife?" "Doesn't the eldest Foster son have anything to say? He's the first wife's legi

If this doesn’t get me checked into a mental facility, nothing will. And I just happen to be the one he came to with that insane proposal. What do I do? I flip to the subsequent entry, but my eyes hurt from using a flashlight to read, so I close the book and try to get some sleep. It’s going to be a long night. Thoughts of him permeate my mind. Being his fiancée. Affluent people are complicated as fuck, but I would finally get out of this tiny shoe box. If I pass it up, I can’t trust the asshole to not find an excuse and fire me. Lord knows he has wanted to do it since he laid his eyes on me.