The Great Story Novels & Stories

Four Months Later After years of waiting and begging for her heart, Tulani finally got his wish when he wedded Natasha. In Tulani style, it was an extravagant ceremony, a page out of a fairy-tale. At thirty years old, divorced and with a child, Natasha would have never imagined herself being the centre of attention at such a profligate event. But it was exactly what Tulani wanted; a loud statement proclaiming his undying love for the woman of his dreams.

Suit pouted childishly at Anderson, and continued, “Do we have a deal, Mr. Anderson?” Anderson stared back and forth between Suit and the scroll. His mind was racing. The contract sounded simple enough. Straightforward, but he did not understand. ‘What did he mean by survive ten stories? Did he not say I was going to tell a story? What does survive the story mean?’ Question after question popped up into his head. He could not help himself. He had no idea exactly what it meant, but one thing was for certain; He would not move forward if he did nothing but constantly question the situation.

In the memory of her parents, she made Celirium a place where both Seelie and Unseelie Courts can prosper and live as one. This legend is my favorite. Of course, every culture has its own gods and legends. Some believed in the great cauldron, another in the rainbow bridge, mother earth, and so on. I was born in a culture with a bunch of gods. The main ones are Detryx and Laykara, the gods of equilibrium. Only logic to choose them if it is to follow the legend.

I punched the bridge of my nose and rubbed my temples, telling the stress that had chained me to release me from it's shackles. Jade's turn and she told a story that had already been written by some author known as Godwin Hosanna Aga. The book was named in the deep and it was about some girl named Hephzibah and it was pretty interesting and scary the way my baby sister had told it with a touch light under her chin, illuminating her face and weird canines. "And that is, in the deep!" Jade screamed, stomping her feet on the floor and howling like a wolf.

Everyone is immersed in the story that is told by each. Anna helps Aya in entertaining their guests. She serve food and drink on the table. Lots of foods have been serve but they were still hungry, they've really enjoyed the foods because the cooks in Jay's wolf clan are awesome. Some Some of the drunk guests raised their hands, asking Anna to come to their table. Devora seemed to be enjoying her chat with Abdul, she laughed out loud hearing Abdul's story. Abdul is very good at telling stories. Several times Devora nodded her head, a sign of agreement with what the genius-headed handsome young man said. Most of Abdul story is about the culture that exists in their clan. Devora enjoyed Abdul

"Whoa, that is fucked up." "Now because of some fucking bitchasa, I have to start all over again." "Bitchasa?" He looked puzzled. "Yeah, Mufasa and bitch." "Mufasa? You watched The Lion King?" "Who didn't?" That movie is one of the best. "We must protect the pride lands to continue the circle of life, Rafiki," He puffed out his chest as I held in a chuckle. Then, the bell rang.

At least 5,000 words are required for the contract application. Unsigned books won't show on app but can still show on desktop and mobile site before it's reviewd and signed. At least 5,000 words are required for the contract application. Unsigned books won't show on app but can still show on desktop and mobile site before it's reviewd and signed. At least 5,000 words are required for the contract application. Unsigned books won't show on app but can still show on desktop and mobile site before it's reviewd and signed.

"It’s a 'Heartbeat.' They’ve found the one thing the 'Perfect-Universe' can’t kill: the 'Solid-Mistake'." The "Great-Story" was now being written in "Iron-Ink" on a "Canvas of Stone."

I always told them the truth that mattered most. “He was a good man,” I said. “He loved this family more than anything.” I did not tell them about the debt note. I did not tell them about the threats. I did not tell them how much darkness their father had swallowed before the end. I wanted them to remember his kindness, not his despair. Years later, I finally understood something. Poverty is frightening, but poverty itself is not the cruelest thing. The cruelest thing is when wicked people see another person’s hardship and treat it as permission to destroy them.

“Then maybe that’s your answer.” Later that night, Ryan stood by his window. The streetlights blurred in the distance. His inbox pinged again a reply from L. Tansey, offering a call. He didn’t answer yet. Instead, he opened a blank page. And he typed: “A Story That Doesn’t Belong To You” by Ryan Calloway He stared at the title for a long moment. Then under it, he wrote: “This isn’t a story about revenge. It’s about reclaiming.” Two weeks later.