Stories And Novels Novels & Stories

she said. “I thought that it wouldn’t be as busy as it was in San Francisco but its crazy busy as well. I think people in this country care more about political drama than anything else. Eighty-nine percent of the news content is just politics, politics, politics. I am yet to decide if that’s a good thing or not….” “How about your co-workers,were they friendly?” Her mother asked. “Yes, everyone was friendly,” She lied. Natasha knew that telling her mother about the antagonistic and villain-like Luyando would only make her have unnecessary worries. “I know it’s just the first day but I think people aren’t as scheming as they were back home.”

Ivana narrowed her eyes at her. "Cause I'm the writer," Arielle shrugged her shoulders. "Writer?" Ivana cocked her head to the side. "Remember I promised to fess up everything, I think it's time, Ivana, I know it's hard to believe what I'm going to say but please be patient, I'll explain everything to you. The truth is this world is the world I created, in short, we're inside my novel," She confessed.

Granny completed the story for us not minding my presence maybe cause am her in-law or just another way around. " So that's how you lied to us all" A young man walked in without a knock to give permission, he just made his way through the conversation.

Ah, I've been waiting for that question since earlier. "I'm glad you asked. You see, this is the real world. Reality. But what you're living in could be called another world, but a different world where people from the real world such as us, create plots and characters to our own liking. That is what we call a book, or a novel. We read it but you get to live a life in that world of yours with your own thoughts, dreams, ideals, ambition, interests and actions, but it will all follow according to the Author's plot. And if the story is finished, I'm not sure what happens next. And the world you are living in is called 'Endless Poison Love', its a fantasy-romance novel." I explained.

She felt terrible, but what they were doing was wrong. She had always followed her parents' wishes. When they told her to take a business course, she did so even though it was not what she wanted. She wanted to study contemporary music because she has loved music since she was a child. But they had not heard anything from her. She never complained, even when they separated her from her friends and sent her to study abroad. But this one is too much! She can't do what they want anymore. Marrying their business partner's son is too much for her.

I consoled him and gave him some water. “She locked me up in the store room” “WHAT? IN THE STOOR ROOM? HOW DID YOU COME HERE! Tell me everything.” I questioned. “I was locked inside since morning and when she opened me up, I ran and hid here. She warned me that she’ll lock me again if I told this to anyone.” I stood up and as I went forward Zac held my leg and started to cry. “Please don’t go. I don’t want to get locked please.”

“But how do you want to portray the terms of progress in this?” “I wanted to show a picture of how the idea of storytelling began. It started in different parts of the world and established the commonalities of views in various segments. Stories were created as a product of imagination and vast knowledge. People liked stories because they always had a possible happy ending. It portrayed virtuous leads and ideal societies. With such different roots, stories evolved and today, we’ve come this far in literature because of the introduction of novels.” “That’s correct,” Brett said. “But don’t you think it would be a tiring task for us to clear the questions that would arise in terms of the subjec

“Can we do stuffs that you like? Only in a more subtle way. Me being a beginner and all.” He caressed her hair. “What if you don't like what I like?” “I'm willing to explore.” Gabriel had to smile up at the ceiling. “You said Fola told you about my kinks.” “Yeah.” “So what exactly did that talkative tell you?” “Nothing much. How did he find out?” Gabriel shrugged. “Who knows? Besides, I don't really hide stuffs.” Her voice was shy and tiny as she asked, “Is it like BDSM? I've always wondered what it was like.”

These stories ranged from tales of triumph and resilience to accounts of cultural traditions and the bonds forged through shared humanity. Luna compiled these stories into a book titled "Voices of Seoul," a testament to the diverse voices that make up the vibrant tapestry of the city. Through the publication of the book, Luna aimed to not only give a voice to those whose stories often go unheard but also to provide a platform for readers around the world to connect with the people of Seoul on a deeply personal level.

She stole my breath away at that moment. She picked up the phone at the other end, her eyes urging me to do the same. “I’m planning on writing a book,” she whispered, still maintaining her friendly face. “Writing a book? Bitch, what the hell do you want?” I yelled, my eyes blazing with fury. What did her writing skills have to do with me? “The book is about failures. Guess who would be on the cover? You,” she said, her lips parting as laughter escaped them. I stared at her with rage, different methods of turning her instincts flickering in my mind.