Write A Novel Novels & Stories

The Bonding Love (Ver. English) Writer by Mamaya Writer This novel is written solely from the imagination of the writer. The plot, location, culture, beliefs, religion, and characters do not exist. Dear readers, please use discretion when reading. It's all just a hypothesis to write it all over again. Prologue In the year 199X,

The Calling Chapter 1 I am walking down the cliffy road, it’s dark out with only the street lamp to illuminate my path. I am slightly cold and very irritated at my current situation. I had gotten to my car only to discover the battery dead. Obviously the car would not start, could not even unlock the bloody door via car remote.

I couldn’t wait to have her as my sister-in-law one day. I was over the moon to have the perfect boyfriend. He made every day the happiest day of my life. I could rely on him for the smallest things, and it felt like I was living in a fairytale. With his help, I had also been working on my fiction debut novel, inspired by my real-life events. Of course, it had a girl who falls in love with a demon who sweeps her off her feet, introduces her to a new world of sexual ecstasy, and saves her from the bad guys. There was only one thing left to do. It was something I should have done days ago.

“Because sometimes pride is too big for words.” Calla – POV That night, I placed both books side by side on my desk. River’s first novel. My second. And a third notebook beside them—blank. Waiting. Not for closure. But for whatever comes next. Because my story didn’t start with my birth. It started the moment I chose to tell it.

Gaia grumbles as she glances at her ticking watch. "Ahh ... thirsty, I think it would be good to eat ice cream," said the girl then got up and left the school to go to a stall selling ice cream. "Hello pretty girl, where are you going? Do you want chocolate? Come with me, I'll give you some," said a man holding Gaia's arm, making the girl turn her head and try to release the man's arm. "Uncle, let go!" pleaded Gaia as she tried to release the man's arm.

My nose had stopped bleeding, thank the Goddess for alpha healing, but humiliation still clung to my skin like smoke. Back inside my dorm room, I paced the length of the floor, back and forth, boots thumping with each turn. My thoughts zipped frantically through my head. Nova was hiding something. And I would be the one to uncover it. “Alpha,” Rowan entered again, clearing his throat softly, “I gathered some information on Nova. It’s not much yet but—” I sliced my hand through the air. “Get me books and paper right now.” He blinked. “Why…”

He followed moments later, his body going rigid, his groan deep and resonant as he filled me with his warmth. We lay there for a long time, the sheets tangled around us. He pulled me close, his arm draped over my waist. I closed my eyes, feeling the afterglow of the encounter, the peacefulness settling in. But the anonymous writer's words still echoed in my mind, a reminder of the fire that had been lit. I knew that I would never be the same, that the quiet, shy girl who had read the diary was gone. I was a woman who had discovered her own power, her own desires, against the backdrop of a rainy night in a strange apartment.

Chapter 100(whew!!!) The Author's Yap If you've made it here... Hi. First of all, thank you. Seriously, thank you. This is my very first completed novel, and I honestly don't know how to explain what this journey has been like. Before writing this book, I worked as a ghostwriter. My job was simple in comparison. I was given outlines, chapter breakdowns, character directions, and all I had to do was bring someone else's vision to life. It wasn't easy, but there was always a map.

It was a quality I had rarely encountered, and I had stopped questioning whether I deserved it. We parted at the corner near my street. He had dinner plans. I did not ask with whom. "Same time Thursday?" he asked. "Maybe," I said. He grinned. "I'll take it." I made dinner alone that evening. Pasta, simple, nothing ambitious. I ate at the kitchen window and watched the street below and thought about the novel I was writing — because that was what it was becoming, I realized. A novel. Not just pages. An actual story, with a woman at its center who was figuring something out, even if I hadn't yet decided what.

A column of flames shot into the air. The fire burned everything away. … The AI-written tragedy had finally come to an end. Truth be told, I still didn't understand how I was rewarded by that eerie countdown and voice. There was no earth-shattering change. I didn't acquire a superpower. I also wasn't transported to a different world. When I regained consciousness and opened my eyes again, I realized that my "story" had been recorded in the novel that was open on my phone, sparing no details. I shared the same name as the male lead of the novel—Connor Graham.