Spider Man Brand New Day Novels & Stories

“Ready?” “Yeah, but we gotta get goin. I got the new Spider-Man comic from the Pharmacy the other day. The one where he fights Sandman for the first time? I wanna read that before we cut fatso Wilkins’ yard . . . ” *** before we cut fatso Wilkins’ yard . . .

What if I don't want something new? Geeze. I don't want to start a new chapter with anyone. I can just start a new chapter with you. I will never get tired starting a new one with you. Please. I stay up all night Tell myself I'm alright Baby, you're just harder to see than most I put the record on Wait 'til I hear our song Every night I'm dancing with your ghost Every night I'm dancing with your ghost Every night I'm dancing with your ghost

Alex teases and Jace glares at him. Mum smiles at me. "You look handsome Braze." I smile back and the doorbell goes off. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit..., I start singing the words "shit" and "fuck" repeatedly in my head as Jace drags me to the door. I open the door and...ha.ha.fuck. In front of me freaking Brandon is standing there looking like a freaking greek god with his tight blue jeans and shimmering grey button up and his make up and his blue streaks in his hair and his-

(Senior Disciple John) Inside the crowds outside the Aeternum Auction House, a few particular figure with a very questionable appearance as well as demeanour were sitting on the park bench, they were looking at the big Holographic Projector that were showing the live broadcast of the Auctions. These people were wearing, what many can call, a Ninja like outfits with a twist of middle east influence on them, but despite the odd mixed of the outfits, they were all have the appearance of a clear Asian looks, naturally since this is Fantasma, all of them have the features of fantasy on them. These people were actually coming from a famed organization call, The Spider, a professional Assassin/Shad

she asked hopefully. Spider grinned, his dark eyes dancing in the morning summer sun. His face was almost completely covered with a tattoo of a black spider web, and the rest of his slim frame was inked with spiders of all shapes and sizes. Despite the intimidating exterior, the man was a mushy marshmallow inside, and Mirrie knew it. “Breakfast?” he teased her. “You know it.” He shook his dark head. “Yeah, sure, grab a few. You need a coffee?” “Many,” Mirrie responded, her mouth already full of cookie. “Many, oh-so-many coffees.”