Writing In Flow Novels & Stories

His songs were better when he had a broken heart. That sentence would change my life after my dream job was dished to me on a shiny, silver platter. All I had to do? Hurt Nash Pierce enough to get him writing good music again. The pop icon’s songs were no longer the phenomena they used to be. His team needed another breakthrough album—like the first he’d penned, using his heartbreak as fuel. The plan was simple: I’d go on tour with him as a backup dancer…and make him fall in love with me. I was hired to inspire—to become embedded into every lyric he wrote. Then, I was to set fire to it all—to destroy every feeling we hoped he’d develop for me. It seemed simple enough. Easy, even. I didn’t expect to be consumed myself—to see so much in the man displayed in the tabloids. I didn’t foresee falling for him. It didn’t occur to me that, while attempting to break his heart, I might just shatter my own. Most of all, I never thought I’d fight so hard to hold on to a relationship that had always been founded on goodbye.

My fated mate, Alpha Kaelen, rejected me seven times. The first time we bonded, he whispered against my ear, his breath hot. “From now on, my soul sings only for you.” But then his first love, the Omega Seraphina, came back for him. And just like that, he rejected me. They shared a mate’s mark from their past. It left her hopelessly addicted to his scent. “I’m sorry,” he’d said. “I have to be with Seraphina. The scent addiction is destroying her. She can’t even shift. Her wolf is weakening.” The first time he rejected me, I slashed a silver dagger across my wrist. I let the blood flow, hoping the pain would make him look at me. It worked. Kaelen was horrified. He left Seraphina for a moment and rushed to my side, holding me, comforting me. The third time, I disguised myself as an ordinary pack wolf. I got an internship at his pack headquarters, just to breathe in the air he breathed. But this time, he looked right through me, as if we were strangers. By the sixth rejection, I had learned how to calmly erase my scent from his suite. I left without a sound. My screams. My surrender. My begging. And what I got in return? Every time he was with her, the full moon would rise, and he’d call me back. Just to play the same sick game all over again. Until now. I heard Seraphina was coming back again. So I handed him the ceremonial dagger myself. He set the date for my return, just like always. He had no idea. This time, I'm the one severing the bond for good. And I am never coming back.

"Liam will never love you even if I am gone! He loves me and our child! He said that I will be the only woman who will carry his child!" said Mari to the woman in front of her, the childhood friend of her fiancé who is delusional about being loved by Liam. "HAHAHA!!! And you believe it? Let me tell you something, do you remember the time when Liam did not go home to you after my birthday party. He was with me that time, we were together the whole night. He kept on making love with me until I am so full inside. The result of that night is this, my pregnancy Mari. I am pregnant with Liam's child! So he doesn't need you anymore!" Elizabeth despises Mari a lot that is why when she got to know that she is pregnant with the man she had always wanted she knew that she needed to dispose of Mari. Elizabeth pushes Mari down the stairs and with her pregnant belly, the impact of her fall was twice the pain she had felt. She knew that she is losing so much blood and that she might be experiencing a miscarriage but she got no strength to call for help. The woman who pushed her reveals a lot of secrets before she calls for help along with her sympathetic act while revealing as well her pregnancy. Mari didn't want to believe the women who wanted to take her fiance away from her. But with his confession of his sin, Mari's tears flow down all she wanted now was to save her child and life. All of this happened in a mere dream of Mari, when she woke up she no had recollection of what her dream was.

“I want blood,” Rowan said, and suddenly his fingers pierced deep into my chest. The feeling of pain was almost non-existent but I could feel life slipping away from me. Blood gurgled in my mouth and it flowed from the corner of my mouth. “Why Rowan?” I asked, but the answer to the question became even more obvious to me. My face was poise, graceful even at the face of death. “Why did you do this? Why did you betray me?” I asked him, my hands reaching up to cup his face and he leaned into my hand, snuggling his face. Then affectionately, like he hadn't just betrayed me, he leaned down to kiss my lips. “I love you, my queen, but I'm tired of your benevolent rule, tired of drinking that disgusting artificial blood. I want a killing spree, I want suck my fangs into human's warm blood vessels! Slave them!” Rowan said, his face suddenly tainted with anger, one that also left as quickly as it came. “I'm surprised you think you would succeed,” I said, trying to laugh but it only made the blood flow faster. I was getting drained of blood really quickly. “You won't succeed,” I said, laughing disdainfully, “I will take revenge on you, tear you to pieces!” Rowan grinned, saying mockingly, “I look forward to your return, your majesty!” As soon as his words fell off his mouth, his arm swiftly and accurately pierced my chest, precisely digging out my heart. Blooms of blood appeared on the bed sheet, like some kind of cruel artwork. “Moon Goddess, please give me a chance to be reborn!” I silently pleaded, just before my heart was harvested. At this moment, the dazzling full moon suddenly emitted a blinding white light.

I watched Ryan die. So how is Ben wearing his face? Six years ago, I watched my best friend--and secret crush--splatter all over the pavement. He died. I saw him. Yet, in the back of my mind, I've never stopped looking for him. Seeing him in crowds, in the classroom, in my dreams--and my nightmares. It's cost me everything--my identity, my sanity, and maybe my life. So when I walk into class to see a man who looks exactly like Ryan standing before me, I freak out again. My therapist tells me to stay away from Ben. He's no good for me. I'll end up back in a padded room. But I have to know the truth. Is Ben really Ryan? That's not possible. But Ben has scars--real ones and metaphorical ones. If Ben is Ryan, why doesn't he just tell me? Is he trying to drive me crazy? Or worse--is he trying to kill me? The Boy Who Died is the first romantic suspense novel from bestselling romantacy author Bella Moondragon writing as B. Moon. If you love romantic suspense, are a fan of Colleen Hoover, Gillian Flynn, Christopher Greyson, or Paula Hawkins, you won't want to miss this page-turner!

Zoya is a girl who comes from a high class home, but is more interested in writing and reading rather than her world that involves attending various business meetings or planned hangouts with Sami, who has been obsessed with her for years and would rather die than not have her. Then she meets Ivandor and she started to feel all she has never felt before. But there is a societal problem here, Ivandor is from the poorest of families and Sami would kill anyone who tries to come in between he and Zoya. And he succeeded, he got her, against her will, one that was disguised as betrayal from her part to Ivandor who didn't know her predicament. And when Ivandor is back, bigger and better, he's not just back for fun, he's back for revenge, to make all the people who spat and looked down on him bite their tongues. But when Sami finds out about all of these, war breaks out, as he would rather die than let any other man have Zoya whether she likes it or not. So sleeves gets rolled up and guns get cocked. Clashes, tears and deaths ensues, secret affairs arises, the eternal love rekindles and it starts to cause chaos and war that seems to never end.

After I secured early admission to one of the country's most prestigious universities, my old high school invited me back to sit for the State Scholars Exam and compete for the top statewide score. But just ten minutes into the math paper, the proctor out of nowhere accused me of cheating. "Everyone else starts with the multiple-choice section. You went straight for the proofs. Were you planning to copy someone else's answers later?" Before I could explain a single word, he dragged me into the boys' restroom. Not only was I humiliated and forced to strip, I also had to let him inspect me over and over again to confirm that I had no cheating devices on my body. After I returned to the exam room, I decided it was better not to cause more trouble, so I started from the multiple-choice section like everyone else. But less than five minutes after I sat down, he yanked me up again. "This is even more fake. You didn't even take time to read or think through the questions before writing down the options. If that isn't cheating, what is?" "I suspect you knew the answers in advance. I'm reporting this to the exam board right now and having your exam qualification revoked!"

My mom often makes an example out of someone when it comes to parenting. Unfortunately, I'm that someone, while my little brother, Raymond Nelson, benefits from it. Ever since I was four years old, my mom had been using this method. If Raymond breaks a bowl, I'm the one kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces. If Raymond destroys something belonging to someone else, I'm the one writing the reflection report on his behalf. Mom tells me, "You're the older sister here. Since you can't keep your brother in line, you're the one at fault." But Raymond can never get rid of his bad habit of stealing and lying. When Franklin Harris, the owner of a grocery store, comes knocking on our door, Raymond points at me once again. "She was the one who stole your money!" In order to help Raymond get rid of this problematic habit of his, Mom decides to hand me over to the owner. "Sorry, Franklin. It's my fault for not raising my child well. I'll give my daughter to you. You can do whatever you want to her, be it scolding her or beating her up." Little does she know that I will never go home after Mr. Harris takes me away.

Zara Torres has three rules at Harlow University: no athletic dorm drama, no boring elective classes, and absolutely, under no circumstances, no hockey players. She's broken all three before October. Now she's stuck writing a semester-long profile on Declan Mercer — starting center, criminally good at skating backward, and the most inconveniently interesting person she's met since arriving at Harlow. He's easygoing where she's structured, instinctive where she's methodical, and somehow always exactly where she isn't expecting him to be. Which, as it turns out, is a problem. Zara knows how to land on her feet. She's been doing it since the fall that broke her wrist and her confidence in one clean moment two years ago. She doesn't need a hockey player dissecting her skating footage at midnight or texting her things that are too honest for seven AM. She definitely doesn't need him to be right. But just as something real starts forming between them — something unscripted, something she didn't prepare for — a single email pulls the assignment and threatens to take everything with it. Some edges are sharper than they look. And some falls are worth the landing.

My fiancé was sleeping with my maid of honor. I caught them the night before our wedding. I didn't make a sound. I closed the door, walked back to my bridal suite, and sat at the vanity until my hands stopped shaking. Then I grabbed my keys. At two in the morning I drove forty blocks across Manhattan and knocked on Atlas Marchetti's door. Two years ago I'd told my family I wouldn't marry him. He hadn't said a word about it since. He opened the door in pajama pants. "Marry me tomorrow," I said. He didn't say yes. He poured himself a drink first, listened to everything, and then handed me a piece of paper with terms I should have read more carefully. I signed at dawn. Six hours later I walked down the aisle Carter and I had planned. The Plaza ballroom. The dress I'd chosen in spring. Three hundred guests who came to watch me marry the wrong man. I married someone else instead. Carter watched it happen. He didn't understand yet what he'd lost, and he wouldn't understand for months. Not until he found out who owned the company he ran, and how long Atlas had been bleeding it. I went to Atlas for revenge. He'd been writing this for two years.