The Host Novels & Stories

"Why would you ask me that?" "I am sorry if you are offended, but this looks like a dating spot; it does not seem like the right place to meet the seniors," I say, and he looks at me as if I were being ridiculous. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words and voice that came did not belong to him. "Welcome, so sorry for the long wait; it is a Saturday, and we are always fully booked, but I could help you," the hostess who stood in front of us beamed with a smile.

I smile and she leaves to get my order. DING! [DETECTING HOST.....] [HOST DETECTED. INITIALIZING....50%..90%..100%] [BONDED SUCCESSFULLY] "What's that voice? Is it coming from my head?" [WELCOME PACKAGE DELIVERED] [HOST HAS RECEIVED THREE TIMES OF MONEY SPENT 300 DOLLARS]

"Show time. Remember... charm, grace, and make it rain. Our host is very generous with girls who know how to work a room." "Who is the host?" Inés asked, her voice tight. Uncle Clifford's smile was all teeth. "Mauricio Santos. Very successful businessman with deep pockets. Also very appreciative of beautiful women." The name meant nothing to Inés. She'd been so isolated in her own world of school and the Alvarez household drama that she didn't follow business news, didn't know the players in Miguel's world. If she had, she might have recognized the name. Might have known that Mauricio Santos was Miguel Alvarez biggest competitor. But she didn't know, so she j

As if on cue, a man emerged from the backstage, whispering something in the host's ear. The host nodded, and a hush fell over the room as he raised his hands to signal the start of the contest and walked to the middle of the stage facing the camera with a charming smile. I was captivated by his charisma and composure as he effortlessly transitioned into his host mode. "Hello and welcome to the 7th edition of the Annual Baking Contest, the biggest and most prestigious of all contests!" he declared, his voice booming through the room. "I'm your host, Benard, and I have the pleasure of introducing our twenty lucky contestants, incl

He walked closer to her and extended his hand her to her for a handshake. “My name is Riaan Mc Millan, and I am the host of this even.” He introduced himself. “Am Sandy Reed and am sorry I don’t know you. My associate gave me the invite to socialize, you know. I don’t get out much and I always let him deal with things like these. My apologies if I have offended you.” She said with a polite smile on her face.

Thanks for reading ❤️‼️ Hope you guys are enjoying the book❤️💯‼️ What are you guys doing to pass the time during quarentine??🤔🤔‼️

The mirrored tunnel ended at a circular chamber wall still glass, but the center stage was bare. And seated on a throne-like chair at the center, calm as a statue: The Host. Unmasked. He was older than they expected. Clean-shaven. Silver at the temples. A perfectly tailored suit. But it wasn’t his appearance that stole their breath, it was what he held. Vivienne’s pendant. And a folder. Dorian spoke first. “Let her go.” The host tilted his head. “She’s free to leave. But I think she’s more interested in staying… now that she has a place in the court.”

It gave me paranoia, dreading how he could just assume me being Montero's disciple in my own accord, and my truths being my lies, while it was the other way around. The clink of a spoon coming in contact with a glass snapped my attention back to reality. "Attention, everyone!" a booming male voice sounded from my right. It was the host, Mr Albert Johansson. Upon getting everyone's attention, he stood up and flashed everyone his million dollar smile.

With the help of the original owner memories, she was soon in they're dining room. Only to find a foreign look but actually felt familiar to her. 'Oh so its the day huh?' "Yes Host, it is the day" 'W-what? Whose t-there!' "Don't be afraid of me, host" 'Why are you calling me host---!' "My Dear host, please allow me to finish my words before you cut me off!" 'Oh sorry, just teasing you. Chill okay.' " ...." "So Host. I am your system 143 called Love and I am a Male host if you mistake my gene, and no, your not dead yet---"

But he wasn’t here. Yet. “Merry Christmas, ladies and gentlemen,” the host—a tall, elegant woman—announced. The room quieted instantly. “You all look ready to take on the world tonight!” Laughter and cheers erupted and I rolled my eyes. Most of them were just as Mr. O’Connell had said—old fools dressed in expensive cloth. The host continued, listing off billion-dollar projects that were supposedly going to revolutionize the world. None of it mattered to me because I was here for one reason, and one reason only.