Starting From Scratch Book Novels & Stories

Some stories begin with a storm. This one started with a woman standing in the ruins of her old life, daring to believe she deserved more. Thank you for staying with Layla and Rider as they built something new from the quiet and the broken. Thank you for letting their journey touch you. Until the next chapter, Nikora Clegg Where to from here? Until You is available in paperback from A****n. I am currently working on the Hidden Legacy Series.

The same town that once broke her… was now starting to heal. She opened her notebook. On a blank page, she wrote: Chapter One: Rebuild. Because this wasn’t the end. This was the beginning.

Liam said softly, as if reading my mind. “It doesn’t have to become a book immediately,” he added. “Just start with one page.” One page. It sounded simple. But to me, it felt like standing at the edge of a cliff and deciding to jump again. I stared at the blank screen as I opened a new document. The cursor blinked. Waiting. My heart beat a little faster. “I’m scared,” I whispered once more. Liam kissed the top of my head. “Being scared means it matters.” I took a deep breath.

The news filled me with cautious hope. I went back to the ward, kissed Mum goodbye, and promised I’d return tomorrow. She protested as usual, but it was futile. I would be here — no matter what. On my way back, I spotted a small roadside thrift book stall. The colorful covers drew me in. As I browsed through the shelves, bumping gently into other customers, a green book caught my eye. The cover was filled with beautiful pastries. Bake Like a Pro: A Beginner’s Guide to Making Homemade Specials. I flipped through the pages, scanning the headings. It looked solid. I counted a few bucks and handed them to the old trader.

" Without waiting for their reaction, I turned around and walked straight into the bathroom. In my new life, I only want to live for myself. After a while, Baron's voice came faintly from the doorway. "The rain's too heavy. I'll take Michelle home first. Get some rest. I'll be back later." The sound of running water mixed with the clear click of the wooden door opening and closing. The ache in my chest had completely disappeared. After finishing my shower and getting changed, I reached up to the top shelf of the bookcase and pulled down a thick book. Inside it was everything I had saved over the years. Most of Baron's salary had gone to Michelle. What little remained had been given to his mo

The peaceful woman. All of them were me. All of them mattered. None of them were mistakes. Before going inside, I opened the leather-bound book one last time. The final page was blank. At the top, someone had written: What would you tell the next woman? I smiled. Then picked up a pen. After a moment, I wrote: You are not starting over. You are starting from experience. You are not broken. You are becoming. And one day, you'll look back and realize the thing that ended your old life was actually the beginning of your real one.

Defeated, she grabs a book from under a pillow: ‘How to take care of a baby chick: A guide for beginners’ . TBC

Every thing was new, new place, new people, new life. Maybe there was something magical about the place. The atmosphere was very calm and soothing. I didn't want to go from here. It was a new day, I was a bit excited to start my new life. I needed to be positive about everything, it was Sunday and most probably Robert would go for his work and then I would settle down and enjoy being here. I was feeling a bit embarrassed the way I said that I didn't want him to give me any salary as I was family.

I'll make sure to not mess this up again. We said our goodbyes and I returned to my laptop. I took a good look at it and then I deleted all of my work. I feel like a second chance needs a second start. I'll rewrite the whole thing. A complete new plot and storyline and everything. She gave me three months so I have enough time for this. As I was starting to organize my story I heard this strange noise. As if something was shaking furiously. I turned my head to the sound trying to see if something was shaking. Something was indeed shaking. It was the old book that was on my bed minutes ago.

The second book began the way the first had, without announcing itself, arriving in the kitchen notebook as a series of observations that didn't belong to anything else and accumulated over several weeks into something that had its own shape and direction. The first book had been about honesty as a practice in professional life, the specific, costly, necessary work of choosing truth over convenience in contexts where the stakes were real and the alternative was always available. The second was something different, something that had been forming in the years since the first had gone into the world and started producing responses from people who had read it.