Michael A Singer: Books Novels & Stories

I was too eager to see her. "She'll probably show up when it's time," Michael said leading us into the big hall, where the rest of the crowd gathered. There was no sign of Samantha. Just a swam of dark suits and dresses. The hall had small tables stationed on every corner, holding about ten books each. I picked up one book and flipped through the first page. Trigger warning. "Holy shit," my eyes widened as I read through the lists. Michael leaned in to read as well. "Who the fuck writes shit that's so dark?" Michael said. He grabbed a book of his own and read the back of it.

She signaled for him to come closer. "Did something good happen today? You’re late, so I’m guessing there’s a reason," Marianne asked, her tone playful yet curious. Michael nodded enthusiastically before turning to greet Vincent, who responded with a nod. "You know how I’ve always wanted to become a superstar in the music field, right?" Michael began, his excitement barely contained. Marianne nodded, waiting for him to continue. "Well," Michael continued with a sigh, "My coach said I sounded like a sheep with a cracked voice during practice on Saturday." His words made Vincent chuckle, though he quickly stifled his laughter when Marianne shot him a look.

“What do you mean by that?” Michael didn’t answer. Instead, he picked up the book Joe was holding and started reading it. They spent hours in silence, the only sound being the rustle of pages. But as Joe prepared to leave, something caught her eye and made her stop. On Michael’s table was an old, tattered book. The author’s name on the cover was oddly familiar to her. “Where did you get that book?” Joe asked, pointing at it. Michael glanced at the book before replying. “It’s from the old library collection. Why? Do you know it?”

Since he didn't dare bother the two in front, he turned his attention to Michael. "What are you doing?" he leaned over to look at Michael's phone. Michael quickly turned off the screen and hid it. "Why hide it? I saw-you're writing a novel, right?" Hearing that, Scarlett glanced back through the rearview mirror. Michael lowered his head quietly. "No need to hide. I saw it. Didn't expect you to write novels. What kind? I can help you check it. I've been a bookworm for over ten years-read tons of novels. Especially works by SILENT-every single one, multiple times. If you want to improve, read his stuff. Absolute masterpieces!"

I was hoping he would get tired of me nagging and would give in. “I want to drive your car!” He mimicked in a high-pitched voice, and I gave him a blank stare. “I don’t sound like that.” I frowned, then sighed in defeat. Michael just grinned and switched the music on. “This is my favorite song!” Michael yelled and cranked up the volume. I looked at him in shock as he started singing to BlackPink. How was this man, a member of a Mafia, singing at the top of his lungs to freaking BlackPink? When he noticed my surprise, he dimmed the volume.

She looks up, raising her book, displaying the cover. A Song of Ice and Fire... ... Volume Two... That should keep you reading awhile... "Good story?" "Great," she says, "so long as you don't get too attached to any of the characters." Michael frowns, shaking his head slightly. "Charlotte," he says, reaching into his pocket, "I have something for you." "Oh?" She smiles brightly, expectantly; laying her book on her lap. "What's that then?"

But it was the only thing my mind produced in time. “Interesting,” he said simply. And thankfully, he didn’t ask further questions. When we arrived at Ethan’s penthouse, the place screamed luxury. The moment we entered, I heard a man singing heartbreak songs from the living room. His voice was incredible. “That’s Michael,” Alex said. “Is he a musician?” “No. Songwriter.” I blinked. “With that voice? He should be making albums.” Alex laughed softly before leading me toward the kitchen. The sweet aroma hit my nose immediately.

Michael's voice was low and sexy. I quickly snatched my hand back, trying to appear nonchalant. "Oh, nothing. Just... admiring your book collection." I attempted to sound casual, but my heart was racing. I knew I had been caught red-handed, and I didn't want Michael to know I was snooping through his personal belongings. Michael's eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing as he took in my nervous demeanour. "You're not a very good liar, Sonia," he said. I felt a flush rise to my cheeks as I tried to hide the journal behind my back. "I'm not lying," I protested, but my voice came out very weak.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Logan cleared his throat. Angel looked at him. He looked back. “Are you guys gonna sing or what? I want cake.” Michael hopped up and down in his chair. Logan cleared his throat again and spun so fast to look at Michael that Angel thought the man might fall out of his chair. He tapped the rim of Michael’s cap. “Ah, sure we are, sport.” He started the song then and Angel quickly caught up. Beneath her melody, he had a very nice voice. Tenor. On key. It could be a bit stronger, but that wouldn’t take much work.