Minecraft A Novels & Stories

I muttered nervously, seeing that we were almost reaching the fourth floor. “Oh yeah. What a monster,” she said sarcastically glaring at Pierre. "I don't understand how you defend him,” Mark said exasperated. "You guys hate each other, you're always fighting, throwing things at each other and yelling about how you would kill each other at the slightest opportunity."

Although not how I intended, the game just began. I pulled two bottles of beer from the fridge and handed them both to Alpha Drake. He asked why two and I told him he would just need another soon. He chuckled again. The sound of his laughter made something stir in the pit of my stomach and as much as I hate to admit it I could feel moisture pooling between my thighs. I had to shut that down immediately. I can’t hurt him if he is in control. My brother called me through our mind link, all wolves have the ability to mind link with their pack. Bo was cancelling. He simply stated something had come up. Oh boy I was in trouble now, or maybe Drake was. I asked if he felt about chilling at the pool

Gem spits while standing beside mom who is shaking "Haahaa oh yeah we can see you need breaking in, well don't worry cheery pie there's plenty of us whos willing to oblige, and as for this chocolate muffin," he says nodding to mom "well i don't usually like them older but Mmmmm i think ill have a bite of this one",

Majority of the campers are boys because game addiction is their thing – to be exact, Dungeon Raydens-addiction. Dungeon Raydens is a sandbox-style MMORPG that’s a one-stop-shop for a lot of things. Kate remembers that, when Ecto was still around (darn, it hurt to think that), they did almost everything there except PvP and the MOBA-esque Battle Royale end game, which Ecto abhorred for their violence.

The mere thought of such a software devalued the five years he spent on becoming a mech designer. Still... his father left him this 'System' for a reason. Ves had no idea where Ryncol got his hands on this mysterious app. Since he couldn't get anymore answers, Ves decided to run the app. [Welcome to the Mech Designer System. Please design your new mech.] The message ended there, leaving nothing for Ves to follow up. "That's it?" [Deep scan complete. Registering new user Ves Larkinson. Welcome package granted.] "Uh, you got anything more than that?"

I said as I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "I love mint choco." He said and I stopped. "Disgusting!" I hissed and he laughed. "Why is that disgusting? It's good." "I feel like brushing my teeth when I eat that flavour." I shook my head. "Do you have a pet?" He asked. "I have a black labrador at home. How about you?" "Really? I have a labrador too!" He said and I turned to him completely surprised. "Millie.. her name." "Blue.. his name." I turned to him and looked at him straight into his eyes.

Thank you all for reading my book. This is my second book on good novel and I hope you all enjoy it. 'Quagmire' is a romance novel which possesses a lot of twists, turns, complications but still enough romance to keep it interesting and thrilling. The book is an entire work of fiction and is not intended to make mockery or downgrade any kind of individual.

she finished and those amber eyes went to the place I was to also remain immobile before my incredulous gaze. “What did you say your name was?” I asked a few decibels above my regular voice. “Oh, Mark! So good you came, you were the only one missing.” I heard the voice of Kristopolis somewhere in the room, but my eyes were still locked with the woman’s who was a few meters from me, noting how pale she went when she heard my name. “Mark?” she said in a whisper. “Yes... Marcus Sanders.” confirmed Paul looking at her with worry eyes “he is the owner of the company and promoter of the campaign that you will develop… Are you okay?”

Chapter 5 Hannah's POV Manila is nothing like the island. On the island, you can hear the breath of the ocean; here, all you hear is the suffocating roar of engines and the impatient honking of jeepneys. The air doesn't smell like salt and roasting corn; it smells like exhaust and old rain. ​It has been three months since the black helicopters took Luke away. Three months of silence. ​I smoothed out my blazer—the most professional thing I owned—and looked up at the glass giant standing in the heart of Makati. CROMWELL LEGACY. The name was embossed in silver, gleaming under the harsh midday sun. It looked untouchable.