Write Anonymously Novels & Stories

My phone is in my hand before I even know why I took it out. My journal app is already open — the one I use when I can’t talk to anyone else. My fingers hover for a moment, then I start typing. No editing. Just raw words pouring out of me about the last few months, the confusion, the hospital visits, the contract marriage that turned into something I can’t even name anymore. I don’t stop. I write until my fingers ache. And then, without thinking, I hit upload under my anonymous pen name: RainWitch. The title I type at the top is: The Fathers of My Child? It feels reckless, almost like throwing myself into an icy lake.

"No one doesn't mention that information." “No one knows about Axe and his work. He is always anonymous and sends manuscripts via email. Publishers never force authors to include their data to respect privacy because published books do not always demand complete author data. I feel sorry for Axel's death because he died in front of my club, which makes Tyler even more thirsty to chase after me. He must think I have something to do with Axel's death."

“I only need a few minutes for an interview, that's all. You can set the limits on what questions I can and cannot ask.” “Bloggers,” Rex mumbled. “I should have known better. Don't you steal information? Or isn't that the strategy anymore?” Emily felt offended that Rex had assumed she was a blogger. “I'm not some blogger,” she retorted, “I'm a journalist and we get our information properly—straight from people like you.” Hearing this, Rex gnashed his teeth and made a fist, ready to flare up again, when suddenly a voice softened him. “Dad?”

The damn thing even pulses faintly with residual magic. His lips part, then shut again. When he finally speaks, his voice is tight. Cold. “This isn’t from me…” he murmurs, staring at the letter like it might explode. “I never wrote this. I never ordered any letter to be sent to you. Whoever impersonated me committed high treason… That’s a crime punishable by death.” Something clicks. One name barrels into my head like a train. I grind my teeth so hard my jaw aches. “My uncle…”

he said, his voice filled with promise. Nicole's eyes lit up with excitement. "Thank you very much," she said, her voice sincere. As they stood there, surrounded by books, Nicole's thoughts turned to the anonymous author. "Well, I don't understand why the author wants to keep his name anonymous," she said, her brow furrowed in puzzlement. "He can be very famous. His writing is very unique." Gage's expression turned thoughtful. "Maybe he likes a life of anonymity," he said, his voice low.

Everything looks secure. But my AI is never wrong. Just as I finish my diagnostics, a new message appears on the top of the screen from an anonymous writer. Their username is blank, and their image is a dark circle. How did they get the password to this server? Angry and curious, I open the mysterious message.

She thus gaped widely at her page and it was true, and it was also surprising to learn that she earned all this overnight. “But why did you keep yourself anonymous, isn't that odd?” Rosalie asked the question she was dying to ask but before Tisnely could answer her, Lucinda chimed in. “It's perfect that way, people would die to know about her and her page will grow tremendously,” Lucinda answered and she cracked up. “Although it's not completely anonymous, I had put in a name for people to know me, I used the name ‘Blitz designs’ so, apparently it's only my picture that's anonymous,” Tinsley said to Rosalie.

Ruby tried explaining-but with the way things were, nick looked totally confused. "Ok, boy. That's enough. However, I actually came here to warn you. You have three supernatural powers which you inherited from me. I am a very great grandma of yours. I'm in the seventeenth line of your family generation. I know you may not understand. But however, your powers are: one-the ability to see ghosts. Two- you have a special word which you can say anytime to get out of trouble but you will later get to know the word as you grow. And three- I wouldn't tell you now. You might disclose it to other people. And like I said, you will get to know it as you grow."

I deleted all my social media accounts as well. I press my fingers against my temple when a sharp pain suddenly throbs there. Shit. I need to rest. I have to finish what I’m writing tomorrow, or else nothing good will come out of this. I am a world-famous author, yet no one knows what I look like because I chose to keep my identity private. Otherwise, Dad might track me down—along with other people I have wronged in the past.