Sister Souljah Latest Book Novels & Stories

“Enough to sink half the company.” We started digging. Every document Eliora ever touched. Every shell company she opened. The trail was long. But it ended in Los Angeles. A small publishing firm. Where she had submitted a manuscript under a fake name. Title: Sister of the Lie. Genre: Autobiography. I read the opening line aloud: "They say evil is born. I say it’s raised—by blood, by betrayal, by a sister who always got the fairytale while I cleaned up the ashes."

"Cynthia was our real sister! You're the fake!" The entitled look of arrogance on Sarah's face instantly froze. Joseph trembled as he picked up the reports from the floor, reading them over and over again. "No... That's impossible..." he muttered, shaking all over. "The sister we lost... The real sister we searched for over ten years..." Thomas' voice was terribly hoarse. "It was never Sarah." He pointed in the direction where my spirit floated. For a moment, I thought he could see me. "It was Cynthia."

"Are you trying to starve me just to save a little money? Are you hoping I'll die so you can inherit my inheritance and spend it however you want?" My mother-in-law, Ruth Jennings, roared at me with tears brimming in her eyes. At the sight of the half-eaten greasy dishes on the table, my chest tightened with anger. I was about to remind her of her high blood pressure when my sister-in-law, Esmerelda Black, suddenly stepped in front of me. She explained, "I know you don't want me to treat Mom to a nice meal. She's my mother, though.

I'm Irene Essah . Born and raised in Ghana . A sixteen year old girl. Student of labone Senior High School. I guess writing books was always a part of me for the moment where I began acting in my mirror to the moment I began placing my Bic pen on my notepad to write .Most of my books are written based on my own imagination and emotions . Beneath The Scars is actually on of them . When I began writing this novel I was going through alot . I had my b.e.c.e to think of ( it's actually an exams written to promote you to the senior high school of your choice.) as well as some other family matters . While writing this book I wanted to bring out an inspirational message to all those fighting with

Sarah who had stood from her seat stepped forward so she was standing chest to chest with Asher now. "Listen to me carefully." She purred placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're precious woman is in much deeper than you could even begin to imagine." Impossible. Everything coming out of this woman's mouth was just her own delusion, it had to be. The thought kept Asher grounded as he tried to process everything. "You're just trying to screw with my head." He insisted trying to keep his voice confident, but try as he might the doubt he was feeling bled through.

She cuts my sister off, “That was I write comes to life. Yes, my books are real.” Then it clicks, “We are your books, at least we are in it.” “You’re right,” She smiles at me, “It’s actually a series. Your book is still ongoing, the second book and there will be another in the future, whil-” Asteria cuts in, “I am the first. How is that possible?” “I make a lot of impossible things possible,” She points out but my sister’s questioning isn’t finished. “What did you call my book. What’s the name and please tell me that it’s completed,” My sister all but pleads and I snicker.

Altan Karahan unlocked the door and brought his wheelchair near the window. His eyes seemed to be watching the vast land, but they weren't. His eyes were watching that night that had happened years ago. Two families with ties from the past... Two families with bad ties from the past and the lives of the heads of those two families! Signature and date are today... Who was to blame in this case? Iron? in hand? Kerem? Nevra? Itself? A tangled dark past... The recent past that darkens the darkness of the tangled dark past... Now the history that tarnishes those two pasts is today!

But no matter how much I screamed, I couldn’t drown out the echoes of their laughter in my head. "Oh, foolish Brenda," I muttered, letting out a choked laugh. Through my tear-blurred vision, something on the wine bar caught my eye. A bottle of whiskey. Jeremy, my little brother, must have left it the last time he visited. I never liked alcohol. I had never even tasted it. I thought it smelled too strong, that it would burn my chest. But tonight, none of that mattered.

I narrowed my eyes to view it clearly. I gasped shockingly, and the kind of pain that hit against me was an unfathomable one. My hands suddenly turned cold, and it shook like a scared baby mouse. What did I just see? Jamilah's death? I dropped the book first, and checked the other one. It wasn't Jamilah's book. It was from Ace. It had the words, "My Sister," written on it. What was going on?

"I'm going to my room to have a good bath and rest, I need it. You need to start thinking about your life, eh, little Mia Khalifa ?" She took her sister in her arms, gave her a big hug and headed for the exit. She noticed a few magazines on her sister's bedside table. "Did you pick up any new suites ?" She shouted from a distance. "Yessss, solitude obliges !" threw Adoukè at her sister. Shola smiled as she continued on her way. The magazines she had just noticed were, in fact, adult magazines with obscene content that her sister treated herself to in order to relax, alone in the bedroom.