Sam Yang Artbook Novels & Stories

I should drop the book out of the room the same way I worked out, but I can't. Halfway through the story, and I'm almost in tears. Almost. I can't even draw the line between what is true and what is not true. The story so far is about a girl who is suffering from depression and anxiety, who was bullied by both her parents and siblings. But I know Sam's mother would never hurt her; I have seen the way she looks at the woman with reverence. Plus, Samantha has no siblings, so this part is definitely fiction. She talked about music a lot in her book, and I'm just putting the pieces together to remember that Sam always carried her headphones around. I will have to force her into telling me about

“What is it?” Samuel handed me a beautifully crafted journal, its leather cover soft and warm under my fingertips. As I flipped it open, I was immediately struck by the images printed on the monthly pages—a series of photographs from Fiona’s exhibit, each capturing a different scene from Amsterdam. Canals under golden lights, quiet bridges at dawn, bustling markets... each photo instantly brought me back to those moments, vivid memories of our time together in that city. Beneath each image, Samuel had written small notes in his neat, familiar handwriting. In the January section, under a photo of the bridge near the Anne Frank House, he’d written: I’ll never forget the way you stood there, lo

She snuggles further into Lucern’s chest to which he reacts by wrapping his arms around her tighter. Eve and Lucifer glance over to Samara with interest before taking a seat to the left of us on an open couch. Eve shifts uncomfortably on her seat, her eyes avoiding making contact with me and Samara. “I am glad that you have found such happiness without me, Mari.” Samara says, her eyes moving over the people who are gathered in the room with us. “Did the book help you find the answers that you were seeking when you summoned me?” Confusion appears on my face at her words. What book is she talking about? Could it be the book of Forbidden Magic? No…that doesn’t sound right because the book is fi

Ughh. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Samantha’s POV

Unlike Mason, walang pang-itaas na suot ang tarantado and just wandered around my house like that habang magulong-magulo pa rin ang buhok nito. "Cam! Look at this book. Di ko alam na nagbabasa rin pala ng mga ganitong libro si Samantha.." I frowned when he had said habang pasalampak na umupo ito sa tabi ko. "What book?" "This book." He said while showing the cover page of that book. WHERE THE SUN DOESNT SHINE I frowned when I get a close look at it. This is the same book in her dad's office. Kung saan ko nakuha ang family ng mga Romero noon.

Eventually, Damien passed out on the couch, and I retreated to my room, oddly sober despite the alcohol. The gifts from dinner were still in their bag, the drafting tools, the vintage shirt, and Sam's journal. I ran my fingers over the leather cover again, feeling the weight of possibility it represented. Sam believed I had something worth saying, worth preserving. She saw something in me that I couldn't see in myself.

I asked with a tilt of my head. “Who are you?” I heard Candice ask from behind me. The pretty blonde girl with a beauty mark at the corner of her top lip smiled at us before she introduced herself. “My name’s Sam, I'm one of your mentors during your stay here. We’re going to the first exhibition of your art now.” Candice and I freshened up and followed Sam out to the art exhibition. It was being held in one of the many galleries on campus and once we arrived at the tall building it was clear to see that everyone was excited about seeing their work on display.

Chapter 3 SAM'S heart is fluttering when he is reading the message. His hands that are on the rest of his laptop shaking due to the terror. Another message popped out on the screen. [I think someone is sick, since I saw you buying some high-level antibiotics and human albumin.] The poor boy blinks twice and another message keeps on popping out. [To be honest, you are handsome and I bet my life that you will be one of my asset.] Sam's lips parted in confusion. He looks at the direction of his grandmother, he don't want to be a burden—once an opportunity knocks. . . you need to open the door.

He clicked on it, and the whole room booted back to life. Rows of books looked back at Sam. He sighed as he stared at the bookshelves. There was only one way to do this so that he won’t spend the whole day in here. He had to look under the tag, ‘absurd monsters’, and grab all the books on the trees. It would only make sense like that. He walked over to the other side labeled, ‘supernatural;’ and grabbed the books he saw. This whole place was starting to look like a maze.

I turned back to my laptop and started to create a new F******k page Sam got up from her spot and leaned over my shoulder "what are you doing, who still uses F******k" "old people and people who have nothing left to do with their lives" "so why are you making a new page" "because bored, weird people can be the best people when it comes to getting a video around" Sam still looked confused