Influencer Novels & Stories

That ship had sailed, and dwelling on it wouldn’t bring it back. Pulling out my laptop, I typed into G****e: “influential fashionistas in my country.” The search results flooded the screen. One name stood out immediately: Chris Bruno Mars. Chris was a fashion icon, the kind of influencer who could turn any brand into gold overnight. Many big brands have used him in the past, and none have failed to become a best seller for nothing less than a year. If I moved fast—before anyone else—there was a chance I could get him to promote my shoes. Seeing the Moretti brand on him could skyrocket my sales.

If there's someone I can call to help me enhance my convincing skills, it's gotta be Paige Amistead. Paige is an influencer and her millions of audience on social media love her so much. They are very loyal to her similar to Heide's fans. They defend her, they show her care and support, they send her handmade gifts, and they promote her videos as if her videos haven't garnered much of viewers yet.

"Being an influencer is a kind of work that involves creating content for social networks, such as I*******m, YouTube, and other platforms. I share my life, my experiences, and things I like with my followers. The idea is to positively influence people, whether by encouraging them to get to know places, to try new things or even to reflect on important subjects. "I explained, trying to summarize what I did clearly. Bernardo seemed interested, but also a little confused. "So you make money doing this? "He asked, with a curious look.

My wife and I had kept our marriage secret for three years. Then she became a fraud-busting influencer with ten million followers, and I was the first person she exposed. On her livestream, she sobbed that I was a freeloader who beat her, bled her dry, and even forced her to entertain men over drinks for money. The internet buried me in abuse. Delivery orders I never placed and funeral wreaths piled up outside my door. Her top donor announced he was going to break my legs to get justice for her. On camera, my wife was a fragile victim. Off camera, she was texting me threats. If I did not sign the thirty-million-dollar penthouse downtown over to her, she woul

"The Miller family hired an influencer to argue a case?" "No wonder they lost $500 million..." The video already had over five million views. "And this." The assistant swiped to another video. The footage of Chloe sleeping in court had been edited into a meme video, set to the tune of a lullaby. The comments were a stream of ridicule: "Professional Napping Attorney" "Courtroom Yoga Master" "The Joke of the Miller Family" I watched these videos with no sympathy, only a cold satisfaction. In my past life, they ruined my reputation for her.

He kept his voice low, so the couple didn’t notice them. “What in heaven’s name does he have them doing?” April couldn’t think of much. Luke could’ve these people doing. She knew many people. They’d insist on doing what they came here to do. Fix this or give them more than what they paid. They’d milk this situation for everything they could. The art form of making these people believe they were getting a deal was worth more than gold. April found rotting denim shorts falling apart on the hanger in a high-end boutique attached to an influencer’s name. These sold at a price equivalent to one month’s rent. That influencer convinced

"Famous? As in social media celeb?" "Yeah, Um.. influencer is a better term than celebrity. I was 19, and I was famous. One day, Jase contacted me and asked me to join the club. There were 5 of us. Jase, Tony, Andrew, Ruby, and I." I giggle. "What?" he asks, smiling at me. "Check it!" I say, jabbing him lightly on his rib. "Check what?" He frowns.

Let’s see if you’ll impress them with the next one, her eyes mock. “Question two. What’s the best way to grow the fame of our products aside from TV commercials?” This time, Mason abandons the papers before him and fixes those burning eyes on me. I swear I can feel the force of his stare from way over here. “Social media influencers.” I reply simply. Halloway interjects, “Social media influencing is a big fluke. It's a bad investment and a waste of money.” She’s trying so desperately to make me look stupid.

"Those girls that wake up looking perfect with a bun on the top of their head and some hair spilling out of it... also, if they fill like it, they might hashtag it with something pretty, like 'morningroutine' or some shit. Those girls your people date also have their own skin routine and their own branded bottles, which they claim they religiously use every morning in their videos, even though they don't." Jake snorts. "Do you hold a grudge toward those girls?" "Not at all... it's just who you NHL people date..." I'm half teasing right now. I don't hold a grudge against influencers. A friend of mine actually used to be one. "Tell me more so I can take notes,"

Fred said and I nodded. “I will check it out,” I said and left the room. On getting to my office, I sat down in my seat and took the letter. It was a businesswoman who was based on producing weight loss products and letting women embrace themselves. “Hi, Miss Celine Wright. We are reaching out to you because we have very important information to share with you. If you would love to work as one of our models and be our brand's influencer, we will be glad. I look forward to your message. Thank you.” I read the letter and took out my phone.