Mr Nice Guy Book Novels & Stories

Mila (firmly):"Who are you? And why are you helping me?" He looked up, a faint smile playing on his lips. Man: "Let’s just say... I hate being lied to. And I hate women like Lily even more." Mila (narrowing her eyes): "You know her?" Man: "I’m not a fan of Lily Grant.I don’t like people who cheat the game. And Lily? She’s been cheating too long." Mila and Sally looked at each other — uncertain. Man (smirking): "Call me... your second chance."

She asked for the nth time. "All I can say is, we are almost there," I answered with a sigh. "Better" she hissed, folding her hands. Molly Richards "Sir, you can't enter without an appointment" I heard a distant voice, it sounded like that of my P.A. The voice became closer and closer until the doors of my office bursted open. "Miss Molly Richards, my name is Marcus and my boss would love to have a word with you" the strange man said. "Ok, let him in," I said, trying to hide my fear.

I wasn't informed that we could have a date. I knew I would be at the warehouse for a few hours, so I brought a few snacks. Someone knocking on my office door inturpted 'my eating cheetos' time. "Come in." I say with a mouth filled of cheetos. The door opened, and Vincenzo came into view. He is so fricking handsome. "Ciao, bella." Vincenzo greets. [Hello, beautiful]. A bright smile takes over my face, "Hey," I say, "What are you doing here?"

However, one thing that I noticed about this individual was that he had many females lurking around him and they were all models. I knew that in the back of my mind, there is still this small voice stating that I could never beat a model when it comes to a man since they are paid for their looks whilst I'm not. However, I didn't get much time to think about this daunting idea that I still had as I was interrupted by my nan and a woman next to her who looked around the same age as my mother. "Nipotina dear, I would like you to meet Iris, she is the wife of Arron McKinley who you may know as the previous CEO of McKinley Enterprise." My Nan introduced this sweet lady to me, and I knew I recogni

Grace asked, blowing out a bubble with her gum. "Yeah, I think so." It was all pretty straight forward. I guess it didn't take a rocket scientist to work a register and make minimum wage. "Cool! Well, I'm going to take my break then. Just holler if you need help," Grace said. Just as she left the register, Mr. Mysterious emerged from the snack aisle and approached. I sat perfectly still behind the register and drank in the sight of him today. He wore black jeans, a black t-shirt, and a bomber jacket. His face remained blank as he set a six-pack on the counter.

I open a new email: ________________________________________________ To: Pauliny Nunes From: daliapenedosalazar@hotmail.com Sent: Monday, March 30, 2015, 8:22:41 PM To: daliapenedosalazar@hotmail.com Subject: Possible Book about Mr.X Hello Pauliny, You know I'm a compulsive reader. I've read everything and never come across a story about a relationship...

"One, he's so total, he can make his books feel like another world, he writes thrillers and can bring every scene to life, like when you read his work you're swept away. He can make us sympathize with his characters, make us antipathize, make us hate, and make us smile a little when something sweet happens. All the followers of his work... must have known that John Agassi also wrote some adult scenes... yet! It's not naughty, pornographic, or cheesy, it's not explicit but it's very lively." "You're like someone who's really in love with John Agassi..." I teased and chuckled, seeing Rama's face which really seemed to be in awe of the man he was describing. "Not only does he bring in a lot of

"So you were the one who told that cunt about the contract. You dug through my shit---" "Nat, is this asshole bothering you?" A buff man cuts through our conversation, his beady eyes trails over me with open disdain. "Don't you have a list of orphaned children to exploit or an underpaid staff to fire? You know anything to get you within a respectable distance away from her!" A few curious eyes dart in our direction thanks to Mr. Big Mouth over here. The man jerks his blazer forward in a exaggerated fashion, a smug smile settles on his long face at the sight of the small audience.

On my first day at the villa, the production team hands me a mission card. I read it. "Welcome to 'Where's the Straight Guy?', a reality show where 12 male contestants will be living together for one month. Only one of them is straight, while the others are gay. Every week, two people will be voted out. If the hidden straight guy makes it to the end, he'll win ten million dollars." I'm at a loss for words for a few seconds after I finish reading. Then, I look up at the director. "Your team does know what the words 'male contestant' mean, right?" The director looks me over—my short hair, black hoodie, chest hidden under a sports bra, and my five-foot-nine height—then checks the applicatio

Ruby gripped her tray like a shield, scanning for an empty table. That’s when she saw him. Kai Kingston. Standing in the center of the room like the sun— and everyone else orbited him. He wasn’t even trying. He stood there in a simple gray hoodie and dark jeans, sleeves pushed up to reveal forearms that definitely didn’t belong to someone who “didn’t care.” His hair was a perfect mess, he laughed like he owned the oxygen supply, and people practically leaned toward him when he spoke. It was disgusting. But also unfairly attractive.