Random Writing Prompts Novels & Stories

Zoya is a girl who comes from a high class home, but is more interested in writing and reading rather than her world that involves attending various business meetings or planned hangouts with Sami, who has been obsessed with her for years and would rather die than not have her. Then she meets Ivandor and she started to feel all she has never felt before. But there is a societal problem here, Ivandor is from the poorest of families and Sami would kill anyone who tries to come in between he and Zoya. And he succeeded, he got her, against her will, one that was disguised as betrayal from her part to Ivandor who didn't know her predicament. And when Ivandor is back, bigger and better, he's not just back for fun, he's back for revenge, to make all the people who spat and looked down on him bite their tongues. But when Sami finds out about all of these, war breaks out, as he would rather die than let any other man have Zoya whether she likes it or not. So sleeves gets rolled up and guns get cocked. Clashes, tears and deaths ensues, secret affairs arises, the eternal love rekindles and it starts to cause chaos and war that seems to never end.

My mom often makes an example out of someone when it comes to parenting. Unfortunately, I'm that someone, while my little brother, Raymond Nelson, benefits from it. Ever since I was four years old, my mom had been using this method. If Raymond breaks a bowl, I'm the one kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces. If Raymond destroys something belonging to someone else, I'm the one writing the reflection report on his behalf. Mom tells me, "You're the older sister here. Since you can't keep your brother in line, you're the one at fault." But Raymond can never get rid of his bad habit of stealing and lying. When Franklin Harris, the owner of a grocery store, comes knocking on our door, Raymond points at me once again. "She was the one who stole your money!" In order to help Raymond get rid of this problematic habit of his, Mom decides to hand me over to the owner. "Sorry, Franklin. It's my fault for not raising my child well. I'll give my daughter to you. You can do whatever you want to her, be it scolding her or beating her up." Little does she know that I will never go home after Mr. Harris takes me away.

I watched Ryan die. So how is Ben wearing his face? Six years ago, I watched my best friend--and secret crush--splatter all over the pavement. He died. I saw him. Yet, in the back of my mind, I've never stopped looking for him. Seeing him in crowds, in the classroom, in my dreams--and my nightmares. It's cost me everything--my identity, my sanity, and maybe my life. So when I walk into class to see a man who looks exactly like Ryan standing before me, I freak out again. My therapist tells me to stay away from Ben. He's no good for me. I'll end up back in a padded room. But I have to know the truth. Is Ben really Ryan? That's not possible. But Ben has scars--real ones and metaphorical ones. If Ben is Ryan, why doesn't he just tell me? Is he trying to drive me crazy? Or worse--is he trying to kill me? The Boy Who Died is the first romantic suspense novel from bestselling romantacy author Bella Moondragon writing as B. Moon. If you love romantic suspense, are a fan of Colleen Hoover, Gillian Flynn, Christopher Greyson, or Paula Hawkins, you won't want to miss this page-turner!

The night before her wedding, Mira Castellan discovered the truth hiding behind the man she loved. There was never one fiancé. There were two. Damon and Killian Wrexley, identical twins, had shared her bed, her trust, and her heart in turns, swapping places so seamlessly she never noticed the difference. Her father died protecting their family's darkest secret, and marrying her was never love. It was a cage built to keep her quiet, and keep her close. Betrayed at the altar and left with nothing but the wreckage of a lie she never saw coming, Mira vanished that same night. The Wrexleys buried an empty casket and called it grief. Three years later, she's back. Not as Mira. As Wren Calloway, untouchable, ruthless, and carrying secrets of her own that neither brother is ready for. She's no longer the woman who knelt on the floor begging for the truth. She built an empire in the dark, and now she's brought it home. Damon doesn't recognize the woman dismantling his company piece by piece. Killian can't stop staring at someone who looks exactly like the ghost that's haunted him for three years. And somewhere between revenge and the truth neither twin is prepared to face, Mira will discover that the secret her father died for, and the twins she's sworn to destroy, are tangled together in ways that could undo everything she's planned. The dead bride is back. And this time, she's the one writing the ending

My fiancé was sleeping with my maid of honor. I caught them the night before our wedding. I didn't make a sound. I closed the door, walked back to my bridal suite, and sat at the vanity until my hands stopped shaking. Then I grabbed my keys. At two in the morning I drove forty blocks across Manhattan and knocked on Atlas Marchetti's door. Two years ago I'd told my family I wouldn't marry him. He hadn't said a word about it since. He opened the door in pajama pants. "Marry me tomorrow," I said. He didn't say yes. He poured himself a drink first, listened to everything, and then handed me a piece of paper with terms I should have read more carefully. I signed at dawn. Six hours later I walked down the aisle Carter and I had planned. The Plaza ballroom. The dress I'd chosen in spring. Three hundred guests who came to watch me marry the wrong man. I married someone else instead. Carter watched it happen. He didn't understand yet what he'd lost, and he wouldn't understand for months. Not until he found out who owned the company he ran, and how long Atlas had been bleeding it. I went to Atlas for revenge. He'd been writing this for two years.

The day I announced I was quitting writing, the entire internet celebrated. Everyone except my girlfriend's rumored boyfriend, the famous mystery author, Bryan Vega. In a short video, he looked genuinely regretful. "This is all a misunderstanding. I’ve always admired Kobi’s work, and I hope he’ll come back for the sake of his readers." I turned off my phone and ignored him completely. In my previous life, the web novel I wrote was identical to the mystery novel he published. People online called me a plagiarist and wished death on my whole family. I tried to defend myself, posting my drafts, outlines, and timestamps. Yet, it didn't matter. The last edit timestamp on his document was ten minutes earlier than mine. Just those ten minutes destroyed me. The messages never stopped. Strangers flooded my inbox with insults. Some even showed up at my house and threw paint on the walls. Years of nonstop harassment dragged me into depression. My parents tried to clear my name, but obsessed fans hunted them down and murdered them using methods copied straight from his novel. In the end, on the very day his book won a major award, I sealed my windows and burned charcoal, ending my life. And then, I opened my eyes again. I had returned to the day my new book was supposed to be released.

I am someone with a strong desire to share every little detail with my lover. The blush of dawn outside the safe house window, a slightly-too-bitter espresso, the new flower shop on the corner. Even if Carlo's shadow just flickered through my mind for a moment, I couldn't stop myself from hitting send. His replies were always brief, but they were instant. I used to think that was just how a cold man like him showed his love. That all changed seven days before the wedding, when I found an AI auto-responder on the burner phone he never let out of his sight. It broke down every sentence I sent, categorizing them and extracting keywords to generate the most perfectly dismissive answers. When I said I missed him, it replied, "Behave." When I said I was scared, it replied, "I'll handle it." When I wanted to argue, it replied, "Be sensible." So, for half a year, the one replying to my messages was never Carlo. Meanwhile, in another chat window, the messages between him and another woman were piled high. From simple good mornings to random midnight thoughts, From secret talks about family business to whether they should take the yacht out on the weekend. I finally understood. Carlo wasn't a cold person. It wasn't that he didn't like to share his life; he just didn't want to share it with me. And I finally decided to make a heartbroken exit from this absurd charade.

When I was reborn, Horace was pressing me down on the bed. His phone rang with a piercing ringtone, interrupting him from undressing me. After seeing the caller ID, the desire in his eyes instantly disappeared. Throwing a random bath towel on my body, he said, "Leave. My new girlfriend doesn't like it when I smell like someone else." Without another word, I got dressed and left without any complaint. In my past life, I wasn't willing to leave, and clung onto him, throwing away all my dignity, and I even became crippled after saving him during a car accident. As I wished, I became his wife, only because he said, "Let's have a baby. Then, even if I was no longer around, our child would be able to take care of you." I endured several life-threatening medical crises during my pregnancy, but then I overheard him talking to Vivian, "Vivi, you'll be saved once the kid is born." "But that's you and Rose's child, isn't it? Wouldn't she get mad if she knew?" Horace's voice was ice-cold. "I only let her live because she could still give birth. Did she think that I'd fall for a cripple?" In my anger, I pulled out my oxygen tube, and both I and my baby died. Now that I was reborn, I would never walk the same path once more.

My husband, Frank Myer, ruined himself by taking random medication and coming to me for treatment. I simply sneered at him and deliberately stalled for time, letting him end up disabled for life! In my previous life, my husband had purposely ruined himself to help his childhood sweetheart, Karen White, get promoted. I anxiously asked if he had taken anything harmful, but he swore he had not. When I asked him to do a full checkup, he accused me of having no ethics and claimed that I would even scam my own husband for a promotion. His childhood sweetheart insisted on a conservative treatment instead. I kicked out his unqualified sweetheart and performed the surgery myself. It was a total success, but she made a huge scene about it after feeling humiliated by being thrown out. She even threatened suicide. My husband was furious and lied that the surgery had failed, even reporting me for forcing him into surgery against medical advice, getting me blacklisted from the medical field. His sweetheart, however, simply dabbed some disinfectant on him, and he announced that she had cured him, instantly making her famous and earning her a promotion. When I confronted him, my husband said that if it weren't for me, he wouldn't have had to go to such lengths for her, and that I am the reason he was suffering. Then, he suffocated me with a pillow. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back to the very day he ruined himself.

New York’s youngest bestselling author at just 19, India Seethal has taken the literary world by storm. Now 26, with countless awards and a spot among the highest-paid writers on top storytelling platforms, it seems like she has it all. But behind the fame and fierce heroines she pens, lies a woman too shy to chase her own happy ending. She writes steamy, swoon-worthy romances but has never lived one. She crafts perfect, flowing conversations for her characters but stumbles awkwardly through her own. She creates bold women who fight for what they want yet she’s never had the courage to do the same. Until she met him. One wild night. One reckless choice. In the backseat of a stranger’s car, India lets go for the first time in her life. Roman Alkali is danger wrapped in desire. He’s her undoing. The man determined to tear down her walls and awaken the fire she's buried for years. Her mind says stay away. Her body? It craves him. Now, India is caught between the rules she’s always lived by and the temptation of a man who makes her want to rewrite her story. She finds herself being drawn to him like a moth to a flame and fate manages to make them cross paths again. Will she follow her heart or let fear keep writing her life’s script?