Write And Quit Vim Novels & Stories

Emma's life was not different than Cinderella's, she was punished by her stepmother and sister. And only a prince charming could change her life. For five years, Emma lived in Charlotte Miller’s shadow—forced to play her double, smile for her photos, write her speeches, and disappear the moment the spotlight hit. She was paid to be silent, obedient, and forgettable. Until the night everything shattered. Her heart. Her pride. And her place as Charlotte’s puppet. They forced her into a marriage with Xeros Martinez—a dangerous billionaire heir of the Martinez empire and a man who makes danger feel like desire. She was a substitute bride for him, and the only thing she expected from him was coldness and rejection. But what she didn't expect was his intervention when Charlotte's mother was about to whip her. "How dare you touch my vanilla?" He growled like thunder. "Try it again—and I'll remind you why people fear my name." Their marriage may have begun as a business arrangement, but the heat between them refuses to be ignored. Because later, when she tried to avoid the heat burning between them, he dropped his towel with a smirk, “Scrub my body, wife.” She hesitated. “W-Will I…?” He stepped closer, water dripping down his chiseled chest. “Isn’t that what a wife does?” And when her fingers brushed against his skin, he leaned in, voice low and wicked: “Tell me… do you think I’m sexy?” She mumbled a breathless yes. “What was that?” he asked, teasing. She shook her head, flustered. So he grabbed her waist and smashed his lips onto hers, stealing the truth straight from her mouth.

I am Jessica Myers. 30 years of age. I am an introverted type of person and spends most of my time at home, watching Netflix. I don't usually go out and I don't have a lot of friends. Despite my age, I still keep a diary with me and every time I want to share something to someone, I write it on my diary. Everyone might think I am boring, but this is the life I am comfortable to live with. I was bullied as a student which makes me have a hard time trusting other people. Like other , all I want is to be loved. I hope to meet someone who can make me feel special despite my characteristics and flaws. I am an ordinary woman who wants to be pursued by a guy, receiving flowers, going on dates in cinemas or simply walking in a park. My ideal man? I just want to meet someone who is nice and who can listen to my stories no matter how simple and boring they are. I don't think I am a difficult person to deal with but why is no one liking me? I am an NBSB and because of that, I have low self-confidence. I sometimes ask myself if I am capable to love and to be loved. I hope someday, like in fairy tales, my prince charming will come. I hope someone out there will see the beauty in me, maybe not physically but with my character. Don't get me wrong, I am happy with my life now, but I am sure I will be happier to be spending it with someone. Will I still get a happy ending like the characters in fairy tales? When can I experience the love I have always been hoping for?

In the depths of her despair, her tear-stained eyes desperately tried to focus on the heartless figure before her. "I am not a mere plaything to be possessed," she whispered through trembling lips. "I am a person, with hopes and dreams that extend far beyond the confines of this marriage. I am... am a person with emotions." But he remained unmoved, his gaze cold and unsympathetic. "You are just a contract wife, bound to serve and fulfill my desires," he retorted, devoid of warmth or understanding. "Your aspirations are irrelevant. Your emotions, as long as they don't disrupt this façade of a marriage, are inconsequential..." His callousness only deepened her despair, and he reveled in it, wiping away her tears with cruel satisfaction. "Don't cry, my dear," he sneered. "You have years ahead to drown in regret and endure your punishments. You write about fairytales, don't you? Welcome to your Hell in Paradise, Wife." … ‘How and where had it all started?’ You might ask, dear distinguished reader. Well, it all began with money, as it so often does in Los Angeles, where a sinister game of romance and deceit unfolded when Sirena, a struggling romance author agreed to walk down the aisle with the egoistic heir of the prestigious Crown Dynasty. Three years. That was all or so she thought until an unexpected twist left her torn between the vague feelings she had for the cruel husband and the intense fairytale pang she felt with the mysterious ‘masked man’. Caught in a whirlwind of emotions, amidst lavish parties and extravagant soirées, Sirena finds herself entangled in a treacherous web of love and loyalty, where hidden agendas, forbidden desires, and deceptions threaten to take away her newfound love. Newfound love with whom? Even this Author is itching to find out.

James Wesley has hated me for a decade after his childhood sweetheart passed away. He requests to be transferred to the frontier the day after we get married. I write him countless letters in those ten years to win back his favor, but his response is always the same. "If you truly regret it, why don't you hurry up and die?" However, after I am abducted, James storms the bandit's hideout by himself and saves me. He suffers multiple bullet wounds, but before he succumbs to his injuries, he uses the last of his strength to slap my hands away. "The thing I regret the most… in this life… is marrying you. If we get a second chance at life… please… don't bother me anymore." His mother, Felicia Axford, sounds regretful during the funeral. "It's all my fault, James. I shouldn't have forced you to marry her…" His father, Jeremiah Wesley, stares at me, his eyes burning with contempt. "You forced Emily to take her own life, and now you also caused my son's death. You're nothing but trouble, so you should just die!" Even Xavier Bowen, our troop commander, who was responsible for facilitating our marriage in the first place, shakes his head and sighs. "I shouldn't have played matchmaker. I let you down, Mr. Wesley." Everyone feels sympathetic toward James, including me. On the night I am discharged from the troop, I swallow some pesticide and die in the middle of an abandoned field. When I open my eyes again, I realize I have returned to the day before my marriage. This time, I am determined to fulfill everyone's wishes.

I had always been fragile, the kind of kid who could not handle a gust of wind without losing balance and who teared up over the smallest thing. The day my biological parents found me and took me back into their wealthy world, everything had already felt unreal. Then, things got worse. Out of nowhere, an old woman came sprinting down the street and dropped right in front of the Bentley, like she had timed it perfectly. I panicked and completely froze, so I did the only thing I could think of. I dropped down beside her and started crying. However, I overdid it. I cried so hard that blood started streaming from my eyes. The old woman jolted upright like she had seen something horrifying. She shoved 500 dollars into my hands, muttered a string of curses, and ran off without looking back. Just like that, I was back with the Snyder family. The house rose in front of me, all polished stone and perfectly kept lawns, like something out of a magazine. However, the closer I got, the more my nerves kicked in, and that familiar metallic taste crept up my throat again. The so-called heir walked over, smiling like we were supposed to be close. Then, he gave me a light shove. He leaned in, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "Stay in your place. Don't start wanting things that were never yours." Right there, in front of everyone, I leaned back and collapsed. I did not move at all. He froze. His face turned red as he grabbed my collar and shook me. "Quit pretending. Get up!" A few seconds passed, then a few more, before he slowly turned his head, his movements stiff. Tiny drops of blood speckled his clothes. His voice trembled. "Mom… Dad… I think…" He swallowed hard. "I think he stopped breathing."

At the New Year's Eve dinner, my mom suddenly assigns some rules to me and my siblings. She claims that those who don't fit the criteria aren't allowed to eat at the table. Rule number one: One must have spent at least 50% of their time keeping Mom company at home last year. Rule number two: One must have gone shopping with Mom all the time. Rule number three: One must keep giving Mom allowance. But it appears that I, the oldest sibling, am the only one who doesn't meet the requirements. My little sister, Chelsea Cage, begins acting coquettish immediately. "All Cassidy cares about is her business, unlike me, Mom! I care about you!" Meanwhile, my younger brother, Cameron Cage, lectures me with a frown, "What's the point of you being able to earn more money than average people? No matter how good a breadwinner you are, the fact that you don't care about Mom completely nullifies it!" My mom tells my siblings to sit around her happily. Then, she criticizes me in a sarcastic tone. "As parents, when we become old, what we need is our children's company, not cold hard cash." I'm pissed off, to say the least. I'm the breadwinner of this family, and yet these freeloaders get to put on airs in front of me. The reason why I don't go shopping with my mom is that she's never satisfied with whatever gifts I've picked out for her during the times I did go out with her. That's why I gave her money straight away. I didn't give my mom any allowance at all because all the money is regularly deposited into the supplementary card, which she has. Since my long-term efforts are worth nothing compared to my siblings' sweet talk, I suppose I can quit being the ATM of this family.

My sister, Anna Hawkins, and I are twins, but I'm slightly heavier than her when we were born. Anna has always been weak and sickly since young, whereas I'm always active and healthy. When Anna was four years old, she was diagnosed with leukemia. Mom blamed me for stealing Anna's nutrients when I got born, so I needed to return the nutrients to her. When I got my blood extracted for the first time, a thick syringe was used on me. I was so scared when I saw it. Mom told me not to be scared. She gave me a magical pen, stating that whatever wish I wrote down with the pen would come true. I wrote, "It won't hurt." When the syringe was plunged into my arm again, Mom bought me a sweet lollipop. The pain never struck me again afterward. When I was five years old, I drew a strawberry cake on the paper while getting 1000cc blood withdrawn from me. That week, Anna could sit up in bed and play on her own. When I turned seven years old, I wrote down my wish that I'd like to go on a vacation. The next day, I was sent into the operating theater for the doctors to collect my hematopoietic cells. For the first time ever, Anna's cheeks became rosy. When I was eight years old, I wrote that I wanted to become the top student of my grade. But a day before my exams, my bone marrow was drawn from me. Anna finally got discharged by the hospital. She got to wear new dresses that I never got to wear. In the year I turn nine years old, my body is heavily depleted. With a trembling hand, I can only write down a line in messy handwriting. "I hope… that I won't become Mom's daughter in my next life."

BOOK ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE! Dear readers, I'm really sorry for not being able to start updates like I promised. I spent the entire month of September trying to write this book, but it has been a real struggle. I have been battling a lot of personal and health issues (physical and mental), and it has been hard. Hence, I have decided to start fresh and let things progress naturally. I promise I'll start updating this book as soon as I can. Until then, please read my new book. -------- "Why did you save me then?" I sobbed. "You should have let me die instead." I screamed in a strained voice. I couldn't believe I was going through this again. Why is everyone so hell bent on hurting me? Did I offend the Moon Goddess that she is punishing me this way? "I wouldn't have bothered wasting my time if it wasn't for the safety of my pack." He replied. His voice was crisp, void of any emotions. "T—- To save your pack?" I stuttered, not able to comprehend what he meant. "I lost my mate before. Losing another would have made me weak. I can’t afford to put my pack in danger." He replied as his cold eyes continued staring at me. "Don't expect anything. You could be nothing to me. I will never love you." His words echoed in my head as he walked away from me. —------------ Miracle was ranked the weakest werewolf in her pack. She was blessed with powers, but it turned out to be a curse. The only hope she had was her mate. Can Miracle fight against all odds and win the love of her mate? Or will she forever remain unloved? All rights reserved! © Midnight Shines Books, 2021.

After half a month of nonstop overtime, I secured a contract worth over ten million, pulling the company back from the brink of collapse. My boss, Richard Gray, was overjoyed. At the celebration party, he called me the pillar of the company and announced that he would reward me with a bonus. However, when the end of the month came, and I opened my payslip, I froze. Negative 250 dollars. A negative commission? I actually owed the company 250 dollars? I immediately called the finance department, asking if there was a mistake on my payslip. They replied, "No mistake. This is the cost calculation formula that Mr. Gray personally instructed us to use. He said you'd understand once you saw it." I went straight to Richard for an explanation. He laughed. "The contract that you signed, after factoring in the concessions, upfront resources, and hidden expenses, left the company with a net loss of 150 thousand. Since the loss was due to your personal decisions, you're responsible for five percent. That totals to 7500. "Considering how hard you worked, we deducted it from your base salary first. But your salary wasn't enough, so you still owe the company 250. Don't worry. The company treats its employees well. We'll write that off." Soon after, he awarded 100 thousand dollars to the newly arrived intern. I watched the newcomer, probably connected to Richard, cheerfully treat the entire company to dinner with her bonus, and something inside me just snapped. From that day onward, I did the bare minimum. I clocked in. I clocked out. Nothing more. Later, when a critical project went catastrophically wrong and the company faced a colossal compensation demand, Richard came begging me to fix it. I just smiled and said, "Sorry, Mr. Gray. I've already resigned. If there are any problems, you can ask the intern who got the 100 thousand dollar bonus to handle it."

On my fifth birthday, my parents showed up at my birthday party later than usual. They brought with them a skinny little girl who couldn't seem to speak at all. I rushed over, hoping to hug Mom, only to get knocked down by her. That was how I fell into the ten-foot cake that my parents had specifically picked out for me. Buttercream filled my nose and mouth, suffocating me to no end. When I managed to climb out of the mess, I burst out in tears and asked Dad to cuddle me. But Dad retracted his hands while looking conflicted. "Don't blame your mom, Willow. From now on, you must take good care of Maple, your little sister. As long as Maple is happy, your mom will be happy." Later on, the mean kids in the neighborhood shove Maple Thompson, my new little sister, into a pile of sand. I rush over to protect her immediately. Once we get home, I mimic my parents by drawing a bath so that I can clean Maple up. That's when Mom suddenly barge into the bathroom and slap me heavily across the face. "You've already enjoyed our love for the past five years! Why are you still greedy for more? I can't believe you're trying to drown Maple right now!" Mom's eyes have gone bloodshot. She drags me by the hair and stuffs me into the washing machine. "Only a washing machine is capable of cleanse that filth out of your soul! You can only scramble out of the washing machine and apologize to Maple once you've decided to quit bullying your sister!" In the living room, Dad lowers his voice. "Keep your voice down when you're chewing Willow out. Maple is about to fall asleep. Don't go around waking her up now." Mom doesn't want to look at me anymore. Instead, she slams the lid onto the washing machine forcefully. I can't get out of the machine. What she doesn't know is that the washing machine will activate. "The 212-degree-Fahrenheit wash cycle has been activated." Scalding hot water is soon dumped onto my body. It hurts so much that I gradually lose my consciousness. Will Mom love me again once I'm squeaky clean after the wash cycle?