Giantess Writing Novels & Stories

That unfortunately meant that they would need a representative living in the homelands who could make sure that everything ran the way it was meant to. But Gabriella still had one thing she really wanted to do. She wanted to write that damn book about their lives and she hadn’t had the time until now, but thanks to Venus, Gabriella was finally able to sit down for a little while and stare at the blinking light on her computer screen. She sighed. How the hell did she start a book about her life? It wouldn’t be a memoir, really, would it? She couldn’t very well tell the entire world that she was a werewolf queen. She burst out laughing out loud and Lucienne’s head popped around the door as he

Hello, everyone. My name is Ghloriyah and I'm a university student, doubling as a writer in my free time. I mostly write stories from the fantasy and chicklit genre. But I have plans to branch into different genres, in the future. Araknee: The Lost Princess is the first book I'll be uploading here. I will appreciate any feedback on my story so please don't hesitate to leave any comments. I love hearing from my readers. Thanks for taking time off your busy schedules to read my work. I update everyday at 5pm (West African Time) so please be on the look out. Thanks for your time and have a wonderful day.

Just send me a message request mentioning the title of the book and I'll reply, that way it will be faster. My F******k name: Authoress Gaelly

Can he be classified as a giant? "It says here the basket ogress would put children in her basket and cook them later on." Theria's eyes watched her eyelids, and she mouthed words quickly, "Let's say the basket ogress is about fifteen feet tall at the worst and twelve feet at best." A slight smirk came from Grace. She threw her hat on the table, "How do you figure that?" Everyone turned their attention to Theria, who blushed a deep crimson, "Well, the basket ogress sounds more like a giant, and forest giants don't grow more than fifteen feet. A forest ogre grows to about twelve."

I wasn’t even sure if it was spelled with one r or two, but God must’ve been on my side ‘cause the moment I hit enter— Boom. Her picture. Seirra Morgan. That same fire in her eyes. Even through the screen, she looked untouchable. Like a goddess dipped in money and mystery. Her bio hit me like a punch — top ten female billionaires, CEO of her own empire, Forbes-featured, award-winning… Jesus. She was a walking threat. A total queen. And I let her walk out of my room like she didn’t just shift my entire axis. I didn’t waste time. My phone was already ringing.

Still, he was only slightly taller than Frey—so how could he be considered a giant? Besides, giants, whether male or female, tended to look rather rugged. The men had especially thick arms, powerful muscles, and tremendous strength. The women were notably well-built, with pronounced chests and hips—but not in the seductive way of the Aesir women. When looking at a giantess, I often felt, “It’s just there—you can’t not notice it.” I glanced at Lan again. His pale golden hair, almost silver in hue, his refined and handsome face, and his tall, slender figure that never felt exaggerated… none of it resembled a giant at all.

To obtain and be knowledgeable in terms of fiction about supernatural and magical existence. Aesthelia Rasc is a writer on a known platform named GN, which stands for Good Novel. She wants to write something that will become popular, something that will definitely be a hit. To prove something and to prove herself to those who gave up believing in her. "I read to feel something, goosebumps in awe and amazement. Why do I feel heartbroken all of a sudden? Like countless draggers just stabbed my blood pumper, "Aesthelia rambled in her words.

she says with a manic smile. “Your plan is a comeback, Sarissa,” I said dryly, unimpressed. “Not just any type of comeback,” she clarifies, “I have to write a book in the same genre she excels in, using her tropes but taking it up a notch enough to beat her off her own genre and throw her off the market completely, until she is a forgotten name that no one remembers.” “Gabi Fraser only writes books on the Mafia-billionaire genre. You have never written in that genre before, Sarissa. You don't know anything about it,” I tell her.

Slowly, she stepped back, but the bus just waited, its entrance gaping open like a whale ready to swallow her whole. Willa wasn’t stupid. She knew danger when she saw it. “Hey…” she screamed, but nothing came out. Her voice didn’t go beyond her ears. At only twenty-one, she had become the most sought-after ghostwriter in the country. Platforms like Ellalux, Febnovel, and even the mighty master of webnovels, Koodnovel, had sought her services. Known as the horror-story specialist, she crafted dignified deaths, haunted struggles, and glorified survivals.

It wasn't a knight. It was a **Giant**. A massive, translucent being made of a billion lines of code. It had no face, only a single, glowing eye that looked like a camera lens. "The **Executive**," the woman in the suit whispered, her face turning white. "The personification of the Aethel-Group’s greed. It’s the 'System Admin' of the Recycle Bin." The Giant reached out a hand—a hand that was the size of a city block. As its fingers brushed against a skyscraper, the building didn't fall. It **Simplified**.