Features Of A Fiction Text Novels & Stories

The day before our engagement, my fiancé, Shawn Williams, said he would accompany me to look for a wedding dress. He still was not there by the time the bridal shop closed. I received a text from him on my way home. Shawn said: [Britney said she ran out of pajamas, so I'll accompany her to go shopping.] I called him, but his junior answered the phone. "Shawn is taking a shower. I can pass along a message if you have something to tell him." Shawn and I had been in a relationship for four years. Whenever I had something important to do, his junior would suddenly need his help with something trivial. He would always abandon me and rush to her side. As expected, he did not hesitate to abandon me on a day as important as today. Feeling exhausted, I calmly replied, "Tell him the wedding is canceled. I don't want to marry him anymore."

For the 23rd time, I'm left standing at the altar as Jace Larkin hurries off because his foster sister, Celine Keaton, threatens to end her life again. The guests mock me, saying that we'll never tie the knot and attending our wedding will bring bad luck. I tune them out, holding on to Jace's promise that he'll come back and marry me. I buy his promise yet again, only for him to prove me wrong one more time. After I clean up the mess and pacify the angry guests, I reach home in the middle of the night. While passing the study, I hear Jace's voice. "Cece's always been mentally unstable. Of course, I have to stay with her. Regina will never leave me, even if I postpone our wedding a hundred times." Sorry, Jace, but I'll have to disappoint you this time. Blinking back tears, I unlock my phone and text my childhood friend, Clement Halloway. "Let's get married in three days."

Chase Grimm's aide-de-camp sent me a screenshot of an Instagram Live status. Guess who it came from. His new secretary. She was showing off a meticulously prepared lunch from a lunchbox. My handiwork, no less. I made it for him. The caption read: [He's a dark, cold CEO… and a shiny knight who saved a hungry princess with a gastric problem from eating mac 'n' cheese again!] Chase almost never posted on Instagram. Yet there he was, sharing a photo of a cup of ridiculously spicy mac 'n' cheese, captioned: [I have missed this.] The nerve of this prick. Then my mother-in-law sent an entirely unsolicited text: [What the heck were you doing?! You're supposed to make him a proper lunch! He can't stand spicy food!] After all that, I decided to call a supermarket. "Hi! I'd like to order 100 cups of instant super-spicy mac 'n' cheese and have them delivered to Grimm Co. Please and thank you." "Ain't I generous?"

When my mother first told me about the arranged marriage, Noah Parker lowered his head and kissed me, pulling me closer as we became tangled together. After a haze of passion, he carried me into the bathroom. Warm water streamed over my skin, but his words sent a chill straight through me, as if I'd fallen into an icy pit. "Go home. And don't come looking for me here again." I thought he'd seen the text and was jealous, so I quickly clung to him and swore, "I won't marry anyone else—" His smile stayed, but the heat in his eyes cooled into something distant. "But I'm getting married." He brushed back my messy hair, ignoring how my body trembled under his touch. "My fiancée is gentle and kind—nothing like you. She’d never throw herself at her foster brother like that. We've already set a date. If you keep clinging to me like this, she'll be upset with me."

On the day my sight returned, our family doctor, Anna Leone, stood right in front of me and mouthed to my husband, Don Marco Vitale, "Double the lubricant tonight. I promise it'll send you straight to heaven, my Don." Marco pressed a gentle kiss to my eyes. Then he turned away and replied with the same silent lip movements, "You little tease. That mouth of yours—and the one below—I'm crazy about them both." The two of them exchanged a knowing smile, convinced their secret was flawless. What they didn't know was that not only had my vision fully recovered—I was also fluent in lip-reading. My gaze drifted to the bottle of lubricant sitting brazenly in the wall cabinet. I said nothing. Instead, I quietly sent a single text message: [Papa, I've decided to come home.] In three days, I would vanish completely. All I would leave behind for them would be the hollowed-out fortune of billions—and that bottle of "lubricant" I had replaced with high-strength industrial superglue.

My husband chooses to stay in a honeymoon suite with his secretary during a company teambuilding event. "I'm in poor health, so I need Mr. Lowe by my side to care for me when I'm taking a dip in the hot springs. I'm sure Elaine won't be mad because she's so generous, right?" My husband wraps an arm around her waist, sounding displeased as he says, "Ignore her. I'd have wasted my time on her if she's so petty!" Our colleagues chime in. "Exactly! It's best to get a divorce if your wife gets jealous so easily! Now, Ms. Klein is gentle and considerate. You're a lucky man, Mr. Lowe!" I'm the one who recruited all of these people into the company, yet they all now despise me. Since none of them like me, there's no need for the company to exist anymore. I text my parents. "Don't bother investing in the company anymore. I no longer want it."

Noah left me at the altar three times—for his precious Freya. First time? She threatened to jump off a building. Second? Said she was moving abroad. Third? Sent a text saying she was getting forced into some arranged marriage. Noah, usually Mr. Cool, freaked. Left a packed venue and turned me into a total joke. Again. I called him. "If you don't come back today, I'm marrying someone else." He laughed. "Freya's young. You're too old to be playing games, aren't you?" I clutched my phone, heart sinking. He knew Freya was bluffing. Still picked her. That's when I finally gave up. Later, after he'd calmed her down, he came looking for me. "Pick a new wedding date," he said, like it was no big deal. "It'll be even grander this time." A guy's voice cut through, smiling. "Sorry, man. Gotta get my wife on the plane."

Reena’s life was simple… until one accident changed everything. A violent crash, a journey through darkness, and when she opens her eyes— Reena finds herself inside the novel she was reading all night. The novel’s name was— “The Dirty Mafia.” But the biggest truth is— She is not the heroine. She is not even a minor character. Reena has become the villainess. A villainess whose death is written in the most brutal way— and that death belongs to the hands of the mafia king, a man with no mercy in his heart. Now Reena knows everything. She knows the ending that awaits her. Betrayal. Blood. And a death that spares no one. The story is no longer fiction— It has become her reality. Now she has only one choice: Rewrite her fate. But when the mafia king is the most dangerous man alive, and the one who is supposed to save her is the same man who came to kill her— What can Reena do? Will she change her story, or will the same horrific ending finally consume her?

"Long ago...the werewolves went extinct and were slowly forgotten by the rest of the world - and never heard of, except in fiction stories. Until a group of selfish scientists rose together and decides to artificially create their own army of these creatures." ༺༺♡♡༻༻ Amara’s world crumbled when she witnessed werewolves kill her parents. Her vengeful uncle raises her, teaching her just one thing: How to hate and destroy the werewolves. When she gets older, she was suctioned off to infiltrate a werewolf pack, she’s horrified to discover that the alpha, Kyle, is her mate. Torn between her mission and the bond, she plots their downfall. As she uncovers shocking truths about her uncle and her past, Amara’s loyalty wavers. When the pack faces a deadly attack orchestrated by her uncle, Amara must decide where her true allegiance lies. With her newfound family and love on the line, can she save the pack, or will her uncle's sinister plan succeed?

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" "It is." "Please don't pull that with me." "Pull what?" "That." She pointed at my face. "Where I explain how pretty everything looks and you say yes but you would be referring to me." She waved her hands in the air, explaining. "It's cliche and kinda getting old." "Would you prefer I do this instead?" I pinned a loose strand behind her ear, my palm roamed her soft features and also on her lips. "Or this?" I leaned in to steal a kiss, stopping midway to see if she'd stop me and she didn't. I couldn't help the tiny smirk that lay on my lips after. "Aren't you going to stop me?" My raspy voice whispered in her ear. She shivered, unconsciously leaning into me for warmth. I stopped her fingers as she tried to wrap them around my neck. ********** She's not the bad girl he thought she was. He's not the good boy she thought he was.