It: A Novel Novels & Stories

It was cold and had rained for days; there weren't many leaves left. "You're bored?" He asked suddenly. "It's okay." "This isn't a prison; you can tell the truth." The man closed the book in his hand and said indifferently. "You can also ask questions or make requests. I will respond according to the situation. I'll skip what cannot be mentioned, and I won't suspect you of spying." Lin Yilan was stunned for a moment, then followed his advice and asked, "What book are you reading?" He showed the cover—a scholarly work banned by the Empire.

Exactly like the heavy, sticky feeling piling up in Grace’s chest—hard to ignore, harder to shake. “What’s up with you? You’ve been touching your forehead all day,” Clara leaned in, narrowing her eyes at Grace, who had been absentmindedly brushing the same spot on her forehead over and over. “You allergic to something?” Grace’s face instantly lit up bright red. She dropped the pen she’d been using to sketch jewelry designs, her left hand still frozen awkwardly on her forehead. “No... It just itches a little.” “Uh-huh. Girl, your face is red as a tomato.” Clara gave her a teasing look, leaning closer like she was investigating a crime scene.

However, what I didn’t expect was that someone else wasn’t ready to let me go. The next day, an unfamiliar name appeared in my inbox. The email contained no words and only a link.

Pietra I never imagined that one day I could run into Anton again. I’m lying. Maybe I did dream about this moment a few times. Maybe I even fantasized about this meeting during a few sleepless nights, imagining all the details and what we would say to each other. But everything has changed. I’m not the same naive girl, full of dreams about Prince Charming anymore. " Hi, Anton," I replied with as much coldness as I could muster in my voice. "I never would’ve imagined you frequenting snack bars on the outskirts of the city."

The scenes written in ITALIC font describes the scenes from the past, while the scenes written normally depicts the scenes from the present. Thank you for reading the book and do shower your love on the book by voting and commenting on it.

The leather binding has fancy marks in it and has title imprinted on the front. "That first kiss." Ugh, from just the title you could tell that a teenage girl at the start of her puberty wrote it. I couldn't really tell if Nova's a girl or a boy, he wants to be called a "he" but then writes a full novel about a CEO obsessing over a girl. I don't know why Nova doesn't want to call it a book when it obviously was. Don't let the title fool you, the story slowly turns dark and twisted.

Switching the hand holding the lid, she felt along the spines, divining by the width and the feel of the binding which one she wanted. She set the book on the floor beside her as she eased her head out from the trunk then closed it carefully. Getting her feet beneath her, she reached for her book, then gave a terrified scream seeing a man’s shoes standing just beyond it. Scrambling to her feet, Evelyn crashed against the wall of the baggage car. “Well, I do sthay, what have we here?” Daniel Prince’s tawny eyes skimmed her slowly and he shuffled another step closer, kicking her book aside.

Ivana cocked her head to the side. "Remember I promised to fess up everything, I think it's time, Ivana, I know it's hard to believe what I'm going to say but please be patient, I'll explain everything to you. The truth is this world is the world I created, in short, we're inside my novel," She confessed. A burst of laughter tore the silence in the room, "Nice one," Ivana laughed out aloud. "I know it's hard to believe but it's true," Arielle let out a nervous laugh.

he stated in a perfectly flat tone, acting as if what he had just done was the most normal thing in the world. Lita opened her eyes, looking up at him with a face that was flushed crimson all the way down to her neck. "W-What the hell are you doing?! There's a tissue right there! Why didn't you use it?!" "Using personal hardware processes data much faster and more accurately than relying on consumable resources." That deadpan, IT-style excuse—slipping straight out of the mouth of a man who had just seized the opportunity to steal an indirect kiss—left Lita's jaw hanging open. She desperately wanted to punch that broad chest of his, but her body had stubbornly lost all its strength.

I basked in the warm sunlight pouring through the window and stretched lazily. Oh, didn't I mention that little detail? I was the overpowered hero of a harem power-fantasy novel. Perhaps I forgot. But honestly, that didn't matter. Being the hero was just damn satisfying.