Spreading Your Wings Book Novels & Stories

She worked with a writing coach to strengthen her narrative voice and structure. By the twins' third birthday, she had a complete manuscript: "From Coffee Spill to Policy Hill: One Woman's Journey from Poverty to Purpose." "That's a terrible title," her editor said kindly during their first review call. "But the book itself is extraordinary. Let's workshop the title, but the content is powerful. You've written something that's going to resonate with a lot of people." They landed on a better title: "Spillover: How One Accident Changed Everything." The cover featured a coffee cup tipped over, coffee forming a path that led forward. Simple, evocative, perfect.

Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Skyler, the girl who stutters through small talk, who hides behind oversized hoodies and thick glasses because words always tangle in my throat when real people are around. It’s unbearable. But, after reading what’s on the cover of this book, I feel my hope starting to rise because this book promises to fix my problem. “Ancient incantations for confidence and connection.” The cover said. I’ve never actually been a fan of occult, but I may as well try, just this once. There are lots of people I’d like to talk to…. I want to be able to talk to the cute barista without my face burning up. Or maybe… more. I want to stand up to Selena and her minions.

A tingling spread through her as her energy concentrated, and she pushed herself, attempting to muster the strength to reveal her wings. A bead of sweat traced her forehead as fatigue pressed down. Despite her waning energy, Arabella refused to betray vulnerability. At last, she felt them – the mystical flaps emerging from her back. Gritting her teeth, Arabella pushed herself further, focusing all her concentration on the emergence of her wings. As the wings sprouted from her back, Sandro stood nearby, completely enraptured by the sight.

She picked up her coffee cup, took a sip and waited, her heart racing at what she hoped would happen next. She wasn't disappointed. I want to take my time and strip you, gliding my hands over your body, exploring every curve, my lips following my fingers. She groaned as she read the words, squirming in her seat as she felt the wetness begin to pool between her legs. Closing her eyes, she pictured Trevor doing exactly as he said, feeling his hands glide across her flesh, making her tremble.

Why is he purposely teasing me, walking around, showing me the leather, yet not letting it touch me? I need it to touch me. I watch as it lifts up, my heart racing, a hummingbird ready to fly away. As it swings down as I close my eyes. Screaming, I push up onto my toes. The feeling is fantastic. The leather feels amazing. I can’t go long without some sort of spanking.

“Now, wait you just a moment. Sit back down. I said I not be changing me mind. It doesn’t mean you’s can’t convince me.” I knew then he was bluffing. There was something else he wanted more, and the pearls were just a test to see how far I’d go. (End of Wings of Momentum) *** I hope you enjoyed Reggies little time in the spot light. Ayda's second installment will be started sometime time soon in Heart Of Hell. I hope you watch for it, and know I appreciate all the readers who've taken the time to read my stories, much love! XXo

I dump my bag on the floor and read through the shelf while pulling books out and mumble as I go. ‘Even a book can be dangerous in the wrong hands.’ ‘Ignite.’ ‘Hell is empty and all the devils are here.’ ‘You’ll make bad choices. Sometimes you’ll choose the best of bad ones.’ ‘Tuesday is Fucked.’ ‘Everything’s a game. And now it’s your turn.’ I have a stack of about 10 books before I abruptly stop. "Next isle." I say and we walk up and down the library isles. I climb and jump to get books off of shelves and Aidan has to catch me a couple of times when I fell.

It really wasn’t that long a fall at all. It’s so open down here. I’ve seen it countless times from the sky, but I’ve never actually touched the ground before. I’ve never seen how big it is. Sand stretches endlessly into the horizon, never-ending. There’s nothing living in sight. No buildings arcing above me to make me feel small, just the vastness to swallow me whole. I clench my teeth and my heart pounds in my chest. Wait. No. That’s not my heart. It’s wings.

“This is a blueprint for a movement. Your story can be more than survival—it can inspire it.” I opened the folder. Inside: a sample book outline titled “Unfolding: The Woman After the Wound”, brand partnership mockups, and an offer for a podcast pilot. I felt dizzy. “This is a lot,” I admitted. “It’s a beginning,” Jenna replied. “You don’t have to do everything. Just choose one thing. One voice. Yours.” --- Back at the penthouse, I was too wired to sit still. Xander pulled me into his arms. “So… what are you thinking?”

I hunch down as low as I can and feel him grab a hold on the fur of my back and climb up. When he’s settled securely between my shoulder blades and has a tight grip on the longer fur of my neck, I take a few steps towards the edge of the clearing by the waterfall, hoping to have enough room there to spread my wings and take off. “I’m not entirely sure how this works or where we are, so I’m counting on you to take us home” I tell the spirits in my mind, it’s more like I think it to them, it’s still all very strange, but the raspiest voice replies with a simple “no worries” and I feel the leather covered bones that protrude from my body extend out, flap up and down slowly and as my paws push o