Tell Us About You Novels & Stories

Finally, the moment arrived when my name was called, and I stepped forward, a bundle of excitement and nerves. The host began asking me the usual questions: my name, age, and occupation. "I'm a travel blogger," I answered, my voice tinged with nervousness. "I have the privilege of exploring different places and sharing my experiences through my blog. Sometimes, travel agencies collaborate with me, and I provide feedback on their services and promote them on my platform." Then, the host asked the final question that resonated deeply within me, "Can you tell us about Brandon's Cancer Care Foundation?"

she said angrily and the whole class started laughing at me . ----- Hey everyone I wanted to ask what are your hobbies? (I just want to know my readers so yeah...) Mine is Reading, writing story, writing poem, acting, cycling and workout sometimes🤙🤐 kind of useless I know... 👀✨

I said, though my voice came out softer than I intended. "Sooo..." Robbie tilted his head. "I'm not sure if we're close enough for me to ask yet, but... can you tell me more about yourself? Doesn't have to be anything big. Maybe just things you like or don't like? Things you're curious about?" I swallowed. "I like this tea," I said, holding up my cup. "It smells nice. Other than that... I've never actually thought seriously about what I like. So I honestly can't tell you."

You will soon know who I am. XXX»

We all are. “Uhm,” I murmur, my voice barely audible. “I…” What am I supposed to say? Tell him about myself? We’ve been trained not to be unique. To fit neatly into whatever mold our buyer chooses. “I like to travel,” I offer finally. A truth. A useless one. “Travel?” he repeats, baffled, as if the concept itself is foreign. I nod politely. “I would like to see the world.” “I could take you places,” he says, his tone suddenly brighter.

He knew her well enough to know exactly what her expression meant. “There’s a war coming.” Layla spoke the words that the other version had told her. Eric and Brea stiffened, and Nicholas rose to his feet, he stepped closer to his daughter, and all the wolves listened carefully as Layla began to tell them the story, she herself did not want to believe.

“Tell us about yourself. What brings a gorgeous, successful woman like you to Pop or Drop?” I cleared my throat, the mic clipped to my dress amplifying my every breath. “Hi, everyone. I’m Samantha, 33, from Chicago. I work in digital marketing, love hiking on weekends, and I’m a bit of a foodie—Italian is my weakness. I’ve been single for a while now, focusing on myself, but I’m ready for something real. I’m looking for true love: someone kind, ambitious, who can make me laugh and isn’t afraid of commitment. No games, just genuine connection.”

He continued to engage in our conversation, genuinely interested in getting to know the real me. We shared stories and experiences, diving into the depths of our lives. I learned about his passion for art and his adventurous spirit, and in return, I shared my love for literature and my aspirations for the future. There was a sense of mutual discovery, as if we were peeling back the layers of our lives to expose our true selves.

“Tell us about yourself. What brings a gorgeous, successful woman like you to Pop or Drop?” I cleared my throat, the mic clipped to my dress amplifying my every breath. “Hi, everyone. I’m Samantha, 33, from Chicago. I work in digital marketing, love hiking on weekends, and I’m a bit of a foodie—Italian is my weakness. I’ve been single for a while now, focusing on myself, but I’m ready for something real. I’m looking for true love: someone kind, ambitious, who can make me laugh and isn’t afraid of commitment. No games, just genuine connection.”