Novel & Cerita Nimra Ahmed Novelist

Ivanka pointed to Zehra. “You’re South Indian?” Nora asked. Seema looked surprised. “No. I’m Seema Singh, North Indian.” “Singh? So you’re...” “Yea, I’m Sikh,” “Really? You look healthy to me,” Zehra said and Seema laughed. “I’m not sick, I’m Sikh,” Ivanka looked at her like she was bonkers and Seema rolled her eyes. “What’s your full name?” she asked Zehra. “Zehra Mahmood.”

It didn’t erase the small, persistent ache that had begun to live inside her chest, refusing to be ignored. Amara realized, with a clarity that frightened her, that she wasn’t just trying to write a story anymore. She was trying to make sense of what had become of her own heart. And the story—Adrian’s story, their story, her story—wasn’t finished. Because even if she tried to convince herself it was just business, just a contract, just a fleeting encounter in a life that wasn’t hers, her heart knew the truth: some stories refuse to end the way you expect.

He had been so hard on himself that he pushed everyone away but now, seeing the two of them together gave her hope; Najmah was slowly bringing back her son to life. {••} Najmah had showered and changed into a red fit and flare dress, wrapped a veil in a turban style before strolling towards the library. Pushing the door open, she went in, walking towards the books and picked the first book that caught her eye; “The Devil Wears Prada” by Lauren Weisberger. She sank into the beanbag chair, getting completely immersed in the story. When she was done reading, she returned the book back where she took it then proceeded to look for another book to read.

I looked wearily at him, not sure if i was to believe his answer. "Well then, what's this stylist going to do?" He pinched the bridge of his nose frustratingly, tired of my unending slew of questions. "You'll find out soon, okay? Now can you read it out?" He pleaded, looking a little more desperate than he should be. I sighed, and muttered an okay. "Ahmed Nurain, born off the family of Oman and Sidi Nurain, lost his mom when he was seven years old. Attended the prestigious BASE institution and graduated with a 4.0 CGPA.. do i have to read all these boring stuff out? I queried, cutting off the reading.

Telling off who my characters are and the challenges I made them go through before deciding their end is my favorite job. “Thank you. My name is Nadia Hilbert from Nigeria. I started my journey as an author 12 years ago as a teenager. Since then, I haven’t been able to live without writing,” I stated. He was done with his documents and focused on me. “The title of my script is “BETWEEN LOVE AND DEATH.” Born into a poor family, Brinda Nadar works on a leasehold farm with her family. It was their only source of livelihood. When Brinda loses her father, things worsen for them. The land was taken away from them, leaving her family to suffer while working for people. Then she lost her heart to th

"Let's go,' Ahmad said, his voice laced with authority. We silently got out of the car and walked into the office, as soon as we walked in I realized where we were. It was the shop of the famous Abaya designer 'Sameerah Mahmoud' I was her biggest fan, and I followed her on all her socials. A smile appeared on my face as we walked through the walls I usually scrolled through on I*******m. Ahmad walked into the office like he owned the place, opening the doors as staff greeted him, I walked behind him marvelling at the beauty of her space. The office was beautiful, we walked into a large office. and I watched Ahmad sit. I stood beside a chair still looking around. '`sit" Ahmad said pointing at

Although I’ve never met any of them in person so far, but at weird, hideous hours I’ve often googled them after the shortlist was declared in July. Georgiana Andrews, to my left is a middle-aged professional traveller from New Zealand, a life coach, an avid blogger and the author of six best sellers over the last thirteen years. And this young chap from Sri Lanka, Kumara Tharsan Desanayake, is a debutante like me. What did The Guardian say about him – a rage across the hemispheres, a ruthlessly honest artist of human conscience? He stands a good chance. Kumara and I are staying at the same hotel. That’s veteran Simon Mawer, next to Tharsan, shortlisted second time for the prize for his new b

He was a blessing sent to us by Allah. " Najmah is here, she missed her mummy so much" I heard Aneesah call as she opened our door. She was a mess, her hijab was out of her head and her hair was a mess. Her dress, dusty and her face also. " You picked her up from a Junkyard hurricane?" Firdaus asked as she looked at Najmah. " she's a mess, but she had fun" Aneesah said as she walked in and closed her door. " She looks happy although, look at her eyes" Miriam said as she blushed at her. " And her cheeks" Raihanna added.

And the first thing she wanted to knit when she was perfect in it , would be a shawl for her Baby. Amira had just concluded her knitting lessons for the day and she wanted to stroll around for a bit before heading back to her chambers. It hurt her so much realizing that it was now just hers and not she and her husband. He'd barely step foot inside the room since they got married. The guard wouldn't let her into his chambers. She was so sure he had instructed them to prevent her from coming into his chambers. But she had no idea why? Amira strolled till she was almost out of the village. Several thoughts came to her.

She loves to listen to classical music, rock music, and kpop. Neha Tekwani Neha Tekwani is an Administrator turned Author. She made her debut with the Anthology, ‘Tales of Heart’ published by Damick Publications and is set to release her independent novel sometime in the future. Her mainstream genres include new adult fiction, realistic fiction, and contemporary romance. A thorough believer of unconditional love, she enlightens her readers with the importance of self-live and self-complacency. She is also a psychology loved, a 24/7 bibliophile who loves the smell of books, and considers N*****x as her first love. Sluggishly motivated, she often thinks her job is to be a hopeless romantic.