First Novel By An American Author Novels & Stories

Grace says, placing a plate of French toast with syrup and raspberries. “I do, thank you so much,” I say, smiling at the yummy breakfast in front of me. “You are welcome, and tell me, dear, where are you from? You might be dark-skinned, but you don’t have a black American accent,” Grace says, probably trying to make some talk with me, which I don’t mind because she seems very friendly. I am about to answer her when Ethan beats me to it

Hi readers! I just want to take the time to thank you. I hope you have been enjoying reading "Who's The Loser Now?" thus far. This is the first time I'm writing a novel. Honestly, I'm not a reading type of person. I didn't see myself writing an essay for the public to read, let alone a novel. So to be writing my first novel is really something new, yet exciting for me. Shout out to all the authors whose books I've been reading and in turn got inspired to write my own.

“List of American authors. Sign up for whoever you want, read three of their books, write a report on each, and put together an overall analysis at the end. First come, first served — if your favorite’s taken, pick someone else.” The sheet worked its way around the room and reached her last, as things usually did. All the authors she knew were gone — Steinbeck, Hemingway, Morrison, all claimed. She scanned what was left and found an obscure name she didn’t recognize, some regional writer from the fifties whose work apparently hadn’t been assigned in years. She wrote her name next to it and passed the sheet back up. The bell rang. She was packed and out the door before most of the class had p

It had not been easy approaching the men running things at work and asking for some few days off but the greatest weapon in The First One arsenal was the power of persuasion. Salamatu had defied the orders given to her to keep their meeting arrangement a secret. It was during the process of torturing her that she revealed she had told her friend Maryam about their meeting arrangement. The First One smiled when he recalled the terror in Salamatu’s eyes when she spotted the bottle of concentrated solution of acid that he brought out of his bag of torture. Things had gone from bad to worse on that night because before concluding Salamatu’s torture session, one of her friends had showed up and s

James sat in his cane chair with his eyes closed and feet resting on the table as he listened to the sound of two goats in his backyard, bleating. The goats were gifts from Osinala which arrived very early in the morning before he could say the Lord's Prayer and brush his teeth. He looked forward to another meeting in the village square when he had regained his confidence and was strong enough to defend his cause. He stood up now and walked to the small pile of books he had arranged last night in search of an exemplary text that would fascinate his mind and set him in the right mood. Some weeks ago, he had considered writing a book about his trip to Africa. Unlike all the books he had read,

They lived like royalty while we suffered like slaves. I got to work, sweeping the floors. The task was exhausting, and the pain in my feet flared up again. I sighed, glancing at the massive bed. Without thinking, I threw myself onto it. The softness enveloped me, and for a fleeting moment, I felt a bit of peace. My long, curly black hair tumbled out of its bun, spreading across the bed like a dark halo. I probably looked ridiculous, but I didn’t care. It was the first comfort I’d felt in days.

CHAPTER 4(THE FIRST ONE)- TITTLE: Zander Mansion Soon, it's morning, and thanks to last night I had a rough sleep, and you know, when people say they woke on the wrong side of the bed, they are just trying to tell you they are mad. Well, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, like literally, I woke up on the floor and not on my bed, and I would like to know why, but unfortunately, you just can’t see in your sleep.

Prologue: How to Use This Guidebook This guidebook is designed to clarify your questions about being a signed author on GoodNovel. This guidebook covers all sorts of topics from how-to-get-started to writer’s benefit and details on payment processes. Be sure to add it to your library for future reference! 1. Please do not ask questions in the comments of this book. If you didn’t find the answer to your question here, please contact your editor. 2. Before proceeding with the book upload or contract application, ensure that your book is an original creation of your own. Plagiarism is a serious offense. You will be held legally accountable and placed permanently on our blacklist if we find an

Dara was seen catching her breath, then handed over the paper she had written on. (Sorry, I fell asleep after trying what you bought me. Oh yes, thank you,) (Sorry again, because I overslept, you have to cook.) Mona read the row of sentences. After finishing, she looked at Dara with a smile that was always etched on her lips. She pulled Dara to sit near the dining table and the woman quickly turned around and started setting the dishes. "Let's eat!" Mona said and pulled out a chair for him to sit on, but she spooned food for her husband and son first.