Gene Simmons Makeup Novels & Stories

The day my ex finally made it big, the doctor told me I had less than three months to live. On TV, a reporter was interviewing James Larson. “Mr. Larson, what drove you to success?” James chuckled, but his eyes were misty. “The biggest push? Probably when I was diagnosed with kidney disease eight years ago, and my ex walked out on me.” “I’m grateful she didn’t marry me. That was the wake-up call I needed.” After the interview, he called. “Amelia Simmons, I made it. Do you regret it now?” I rested a hand on the spot where my kidney used to be and let out a bitter laugh. “I do. And I have cancer now. Happy?” James sounded satisfied. “Serves you right.” He never knew—I got cancer because I gave him my kidney all those years ago.

My best friend said she was just protecting me from bad men. So every time I started dating someone new, she would turn herself into his dream girl. She'd flirt, chase him, and seduce him until she ended up in his bed. And every time, she'd send me the photos. Always with the same cheerful caption: "Bestie! If I hadn't tested him, you'd be heartbroken again. Aren't I good to you?" I was tortured, broken, humiliated. Eventually, I cut her off completely and moved to another city. Then I met the man I thought was my true love—Liam. He was kind, devoted, and loving. I thought I could finally be happy. On my wedding day, I found Madison standing in my dressing room, disguised as my makeup artist. She smiled at me, just like she used to. "Don't worry, bestie," she whispered. "Let me test this one for you. Then you can marry him." She drugged me, then put on my wedding gown and got into bed with Liam. But I woke up in time. I burst into the room with our families. I caught them together. Later, I got pregnant. During labor, I hemorrhaged. Liam watched me bleed and refused to sign the emergency consent form. "Madison just wanted to give herself to me before our wedding—to fulfill her wish," he said coldly. "You humiliated her. You drove her to suicide. She died carrying my child." "You and the bastard in your belly deserve to die too." That was when I realized—the man I loved had already fallen for my best friend. I died in agony. My ashes were thrown into a ditch. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. On my wedding day. And Madison was standing right in front of me, pretending to be my makeup artist.

Charlotte Houston is a twenty years old orphaned, college dropout young adult, who lived a very poor life. She was left to cater for her siblings who were struck with a chronic disease that needed a lot of money. The menial jobs she had was barely fetching a thing, which was what made her consider surrogacy as soon as she realized the insane amount of money it could fetch... despite the fact that she had a boyfriend. While Jeffery Simmons only wanted a child because that’s a requirement that needed to be met, in order to inherit his father's wealth. Being a Surrogate, what life awaits both Charlotte and Jeffery? Would it be all roses? Or, would it be a really bumpy ride? Especially when Charlotte’s boyfriend is back in the picture and a ghost from the past that just won’t stay away.

Andre Simmons is a smoking hot billionaire Casanova with a flair for heartbreaking. Love has never been an option for Cleo. After having her heart broken one too many times, she closed herself off to the idea of 'love' and instead chose to have her fun by playing with men's feelings, like a playboy would women. Beautiful and a billionaire in her own right, finding a target was never an issue. When Cleo crossed paths with Andre, he only seemed to prove her point that men were nothing more than lying scums who deserved to be wiped off the face of the earth. So when both of them made a bet that they could make the other fall for them, Cleo was sure of only one thing; she wasn't going to lose. What happens though when Andre turns out to be different? What caused Cleo to hate men so much anyway? Who do you think wins the bet in the end? What happens when two players fall in love?

Danielle Millman has had enough of life in NYC, after being betrayed and publicly humiliated. She craves a fresh a start and after a friend's suggestion, that is exactly what she is getting at remote boarding school in Vermont. The only problem is that the girl's side was full, so she registered as Daniel. She had her mother's actress gene in her, so pretending to be a boy shouldn't be too hard. That is, until she falls a classmate. Asher is confused by the draw he feels towards his new friend Danny. Asher is ladies man.. so why is he interested in a guy? Asher is questioning his sexuality as Dani questions how long she can keep up the ruse.. especially when she runs into a familiar face. One she had hoped to never see again.

All I ever wanted was to be a female fighter.It was in my blood to smack people around.Some girls wore pink dresses and makeup, I wore sneakers and bruises.I was a loner, stuck to myself because I was different, until Camden Steel moved next door.I punched him in the mouth, and he saw me through rose colored glasses from that day on.I had everything I ever wanted.The boy next door, inspiring career… until I didn’t.He hates me. I deserve that.They say you have to fight for what you want… What they don’t tell you… is it’ll cost you more than you're willing to give to reach the top.Love Tap is created by M.N. Forgy, an eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author.

I took leave to be the maid of honor at my best friend's wedding. The moment I landed, Rachel Wendt showered me with lavish gifts: the newest flagship model smartphone, designer perfume, and other branded gifts. "A little gift for you," Rachel said. "Even though I'm getting married, you're still the most important person in my life!" I was deeply moved. Early the next morning, I got up at dawn, changed into my maid of honor gown, and went to find her. Rachel was having her makeup done. When she saw me, she excitedly waved at me. But the moment I went in closer, her face instantly turned icy. "You tramp! Get the hell out of my wedding!" I froze on the spot.

My firefighter husband had fallen from a great height during a mission and was rushed into the emergency room, covered in blood. As the only person capable of saving him, I stood just outside the operating room, calm and composed. Reaching for my makeup bag, I began carefully applying my makeup. Another doctor, panic-stricken, rushed toward me and shouted, "Dr. Warhol! The patient's kidney has ruptured! You're the only surgeon in all of Switzerland who can perform this life-saving procedure! If you don’t act now, he’s going to die!" I continued shaping my eyebrows with steady precision, not even glancing in his direction. "Quiet," I said coolly. "If you keep yelling, my brows might end up crooked."

Kaelan noticed I hadn't filed a single medical or living expense request in the pack’s resource channel for a week. He must have thought I’d finally kicked my greedy human habits. At dinner, he tossed a black card at me. It cut a cold arc through the air, landing beside my plate. “Your father’s treatment for next month. The wolf gene serum, the lab fees—it’s all approved.” His voice was pure Alpha command. An order, not a suggestion. “Bringing you and your father here was a risk. I fought the Elders for you. You are my mate. Stop begging for pack funds like a common stray. It’s a bad look.” He didn’t know my fingers were ice-cold when I picked up the card. The papers to sever our mate bond were already signed. So was my will. The hoodie I wore when I left was a faded thing he’d tossed at me three years ago. No one would believe it. The fated mate of an Alpha who ran a corporate empire… had to send a photo of a $10 painkiller receipt to a Beta assistant for approval. All because he thought a fragile human like me was a leech who couldn’t be trusted with cash. But a week ago, when my father’s lupus caused his organs to fail, I needed $50,000. He needed a dose of pure gene repair serum, synthesized in the pack’s high-tech med-bay. I begged him on my knees. His childhood friend, Seraphina, just laughed. She froze my request, saying she was helping me break my bad habit of “cashing in on my mate status.” Kaelan never knew I endured that humiliation just so my father could stay alive in his top-tier medical lab. Now, my father was dead. The medicine was cut off, and his ashes were already in the ground. I didn’t need to be his obedient little pet anymore.

After five years together, my fiancée Selene—a surgeon—canceled our wedding forty-nine times. The first time, she was in the middle of makeup when Kaelen, her male intern, messed up a patient’s chart. She rushed back to the hospital and left me waiting at the altar all day. The second time, just as we were about to exchange rings, she heard Kaelen was being bullied by another doctor. She went back to rescue him. I stayed behind, facing a roomful of smirking guests. After that, every time I tried to reschedule, that intern had some new emergency. Always needed her. Always right when the wedding was supposed to happen. I finally decided to end it. The day I left New York, she searched for me like a madwoman. But I was already gone.