Thin Man Novel Novels & Stories

“It was you, and your novels instill high standards when it comes to the man my girlfriend should love. And that is the main reason why we ended falling apart. The men in your novels are the reason! Do only people like them have the right to love and be loved? What about simple men like me? How are we, huh? Do we have no right to be happy? Do we have no right to love and be loved? Huh? Tell me? How about us?” Shean was startled by the furious man. The giant testosterone was definitely furious. And at the same time, she wants to raise an eyebrow. What does this simple man say? Nah! Just by seeing him and she knew he is so perfect being a hero in her novels.

As they immediately struck a deal, I made a hand signal, indicating it was time for my next line of action. A man walked towards us, and my face tightened. Both Olivia and Rowan noticed the tension in the air as the man walked towards us. Rowan excused himself. Wise man. He had an idea about who I was, and did not want to involve himself with whatever I did. He has played his part by talking with Olivia and striking a deal. I was happy that he excused himself. “Long time no see Alexander. I see you got yourself yet another toy to play with. You never seem to change”, the man said with a chuckle.

THE MAN IN YELLOW

But, they didn't know that it is their cruelty and their fear for something that they did not know is much more monstrous. I moved to the next page, again. With that, the Zombie Man chooses to live a simple life away from other people. Day by day the Zombie Man chooses to pretend to be a human but failed. I was about to move to the next page of the book titled The Zombie Man that I am reading again. But I was immediately taken aback by the arrival of a new guest today. “How are you, Hailey?” Asked by the man who's checking my vitals. He was Dr Charles Perelman, Hailey's father.

But he couldn’t save the books, hence, all the books got the turf from the paddle of mud water on the road brought in by the rain earlier. “What the hell?” the young man hissed. The young man soon picked up all the books and to his anguish, most of the novels got wet. He sighed as he picked everything. “You should have looked where you were going,” the man said indifferently. With knitted brows, the youngster glared at the man in front of him. The man’s apparel shouts extravagance and everything about him stands out. Realizing that he wouldn’t win against the man, the youngster just passed through, ignoring the man as if nothing happened.

It sounded like a human being—someone sitting in a room, in a different reality, turning a page. *"This is getting interesting,"* the voice whispered. *"Let's see what happens if I introduce a **Third Protagonist**."* The Pen touched the paper right next to Rowan. With a sound like a lightning strike, a new figure was "Drawn" into existence. It was a man. He was wearing a modern black jacket and jeans. He had a scar over one eye and a look of absolute confusion on his face. He held a gun in one hand and a smartphone in the other.

“We only need to speak with her.” “Access denied,” the man snapped, raising his bow. My men bristled, ready to tear him apart, but Novel held up a hand. She took a slow, cautious step forward into the "no-man's-land" between the two groups. “I know why your pack is dying,” she said, her voice ringing clear through the ruins. The man scoffed. “You know nothing, girl. Run back to your protector before you end up dead.” My blood turned to fire. I reached for him, my claws ready to lengthen, but Novel’s gaze stopped me. I let out a frustrated huff, forced to trust her.

Now that I was back, I actually started noticing things I hadn't paid attention to earlier. Cars lined the street, their dark silhouettes stretching beneath the neon lights. Men and women crowded around the entrance, laughing and smoking. For a second, everything looked normal. Until I noticed the number of naked bodies. I halted. I stood there scanning the area in utter disbelief. I never knew people could have sex so openly. In booths, in corners, like nobody was watching. "How much?" a male voice asked from behind me. "One thousand." The lady responded. I swallowed.

Author POV Three Days Later In the dark room, with a ray of sunlight, penetrating through the small window, which cannot even contain a bird, let alone a human. A man was laying on the bare floor, looking all dirty and weak, his clothes were torn into pieces, leaving him half naked, his messy hair, scattering over his face, as he looked so lifeless.

"* At the time, he had scoffed to himself. No book could fix what was broken within him. And yet, here he was. Three a.m. and awake, insomnia gnawing at his chest like it had a tendency to do. He had poured himself a glass of scotch—his second—and sat in the armchair by the window. The book was next to him, not opened. The city stretched below like a painting, but it was cold. Dead. Like him. He opened the cover. The first few pages were dull. He scanned more than he read, unengaged. But when the story got underway, something odd occurred. He slowed. The old man in the story—grumpy, bitter, mad at the world—wasn't just recognizable. He was *him*. Line by line, paragraph by paragraph, the wor