Hey, thanks for reading my new book, Black Market Merchant (BMM)! Please click the add to Collections button to get new updates for every additional chapter! Then if you can give me a Vote or Review that will be much appreciated!! I hope you'll enjoy reading my story! 

I also really need your help to improve my writing skill more than anything, and the Writers Prompt Contest #97 had been a huge help for me. I was able to place 4th in the Competition. So thanks for your support! 

Please find any errors and post the error as a paragraph comment or chapter comment at the end of each chapter. I will fix it as soon as possible! I won't say the story is done until all edits are fixed. 

If you like this story, I have one other for you to read, named "Scar Faced Captain". It is a Male Lead Fantasy with a Romantic Under Plot that has everything to do with Revenge. This shorter story is slowly coming along and still being updated with new chapters in the near future. Please give it a read and critical opinion too!

As writing is a hobby for me, I will be doing my best to get chapters out as fast as I can. Now enjoy reading the Black Market Merchant (BMM)!

~Any and all places and/or people mentioned, referenced, and described my be related to real world things. However, their mention in this story are for purely fictional purposes. The writers intentions do not reflect any of what the real world locations or people feel or say.~

Several years after major nuclear events, followed by the rise of robotic armies, have caused the world to become post-apocalyptic. The year is 2276 and Earth is now full of anarchy, corruption and death. A lone woman carrying a large backpack, in the shape of a coffin, comes to a small post-apocalyptic town in the middle of Utah whose only existence rides on the Colorado River. There is a dam which provides water, food and transportation to the several thousand people who have been congregating in the re-growing town. Many had hoped to fix the hydroelectric station to rebuild their lives, but corruption brews. 

The lone woman stops at one of the bars and gets into a fight with some local gangsters who were mistreating a young girl outside. Causing her to become at odds with the gangs of the town. This is the instance that first roots our heroine, Lisa Cunningham, to save this town and prompted her to grow her Black Market Empire here! 

However, gangs are the least of her worries! Robotic army’s, rebellion militia, mutated monsters, mad cults, competing companies and lustful men ogled over her all the time!! Not to mention the strange events that slowly begin to happen around the girl, Hanna, that she saved. 

Yet there is more to Lisa than good looks alone. She has come back from over 200 years ago and is learning more about what has happened while she was in cryogenic sleep. How will she be able to survive in a hostile world and reach her own goals? 

Follow along now!

—-Estimated current length for the novel once completed might be around a 1,000 chapters. I will determine a better guess for its final length in the future (As of 5/3/20).—-

—-Also, all chapters are unedited and are subject to very minor changes, minor additions and lots of error editing.(sigh) —-

—-Release Rate: 1 Chapter per day, occasionally more. If I miss a day it will only be one in succession. I work 50+hrs a week, so this is just a fun creative hobby. —-

The English novel begins behind bars, in extremis. Its first author, John Bunyan, was a Puritan dissenter whose writing starts with sermons and ends with fiction. His famous allegory, the story of Christian, opens with a sentence of luminous simplicity that has the haunting compulsion of the hook in a great melody. "As I walk'd through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place, where was a Denn; And I laid me down in that place to sleep: And as I slept I dreamed a Dream."
A "Denn" is a prison, and Bunyan wrote most of the book in Bedford county gaol, having been arrested for his beliefs during the "Great Persecution" of 1660-1690. He shares the experience of prison with Cervantes, who had the idea for Don Quixote while incarcerated in La Mancha. Like so many novels that follow in this list, The Pilgrim's Progress blends fact and fiction. As well as being the record of Bunyan's dream, a well-known fictional device, it is also an archetypal tale – a quest, fraught with danger. Christian's pilgrimage takes him through the Slough of Despond, Vanity Fair and the Delectable Mountains in a succession of adventures that keep the reader turning the page. With his good companions, Faithful and Hopeful, he vanquishes many enemies before arriving at the Celestial City with the line that still reverberates through the English literary tradition: "So he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side."

In Hollywood terms, the novel has a perfect "arc". It also contains a cast of unforgettable characters, from Mr Worldly Wiseman to Lord Hategood, Mr Stand-fast and Mr Valiant-for-Truth.
More profoundly, as an allegory of state repression, it has been described by the historian EP Thompson as one of the "foundation texts of the English working-class movement". Part of its uniquely English quality is a robust and engaging sense of humour that has cemented its appeal to generations of readers.

The Pilgrim's Progress is the ultimate English classic, a book that has been continuously in print, from its first publication to the present day, in an extraordinary number of editions. There's no book in English, apart from the Bible, to equal Bunyan's masterpiece for the range of its readership, or its influence on writers as diverse as William Thackeray, Charlotte Bronte, Mark Twain, CS Lewis, John Steinbeck and even Enid Blyton.

Huckleberry Finn speaks for many readers when, recalling his Mississippi education, he says: "There was some books too... One was 'Pilgrim's Progress', about a man that left his family it didn't say why. I read considerable in it now and then. The statements was interesting, but tough."

The story of a man in search of the truth is the plot of many kinds of fiction, fromPortnoy's Complaint to Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. Like many of the writers in the list that follows, Bunyan had a wonderful ear for the rhythms of colloquial speech and his allegorical characters come to life in dialogue that never fails to advance the narrative. Story is one thing. The simple clarity and beauty of Bunyan's prose is something else. Braided together, style and content unite to make a timeless English classic.

When I began writing the biography of Death, I was not sure where it would lead me. Real life inspiration and the darkest recesses of my mind competed to see which could be the more sinister. To a large extent I blindly followed them, and merely wrote down whatever sweet songs of madness they crooned to me along the trail. 

Like most writers I wrangled friends and relatives into giving me feedback. One, a millennial snowflake, was invaluable. They seemed to consider this fantasy nightmare I had created, to be some sort of manifesto. For the record this book is pure fiction. Fiction inspired by real world events in a few cases, but fiction nonetheless. Like all works of supernatural horror, this book is meant to be entertainment. It is perhaps a meditation on the zeitgeist of the modern west, but it is still as fictional as 1984 or A Christmas Carol. 

Another person seemed bothered by the apparent moral contradictions in my lead character. To this I can only say that a man is the sum of his contradictions. People love to apply the rules to others, but find reasons to grant themselves exceptions to their own rules. I did not want an incorruptible white knight monster. I wanted a complex and thinking human monster. To my way of thinking his inconsistency was his most human feature, even after he leaves his humanity behind. 

Should anyone find a mirror image to themselves in these pages, then it is only their own ego. The sum of this work has been so thoroughly washed in the waters of horror and fantasy that no living or deceased human could ever be reasonably compared to its contents. 

No rational person could ever compare the buffoons portrayed in these pages to a real life counterparts. Any person contending to the contrary is either a snowflake melting in the flames of my mad vision, or a lunatic in desperate need of having their mental faculties examined by a competent professional, I have time for neither. The fact that this book is fiction cannot be over emphasized. 
 
 -Arthur Thomas VanDelay May 2019

Death, a Biography, is a fictional horror novel. It is crass, violent, profane, and not meant for the light hearted reader. Imagine living in a world surrounded by fools. For years your frustration grows, and no matter what you try to do you cannot free yourself from the preverbal ideocracy. Nom DePlume is just such a man, only one day he is granted the dearest wish of his heart. Nom, a grad student working as a truck driver is: intelligent, well educated, and the sort of person who always can find a reason to have a chip on his shoulder. One day while driving in Texas he finds that he has the ability to wish death on those he hates. Being scientifically minded, Nom proceeds to experiment searching out the scopes of his new found powers. He begins in Texas, a state he despises. As he moves on from each experiment, he picks his prey to match some facet of modern western life that he hates. Each receive a fate customized to match what Nom feels they did wrong. Nom then travels home to Michigan after initially defining his new role in life. In Michigan he uses his powers to settle a few old scores and family business. A run-in with an old friend convinces him that he is being selfish for not using his god like powers to better mold humanity. The end of the book sees him taking on the leader of the free world. Nom now personifying Death, learns that he has a true foe, Life.Nom will return.

My latest work had been published on WebNovel. The story was called 'Meeting Bella Swan', and it was a 'Fan-Fic story' about a fictional encounter with Kristen Stewart, the star of the Twilight Saga. 

Bella was 25 at the time, 5'5" tall, honey-blonde hair; although in the film her hair was always shown black. Bella is very fit, as shown by the amount of stunt work she did on the film, but she still had a very feminine figure, just the right amount of bustyness with great legs. I found Bella very attractive, not just physically attractive, but also her good nature as she showed in many of the interviews she did for the film. I wrote the story on a whim after watching the Twilight Saga movie many a times.

In the story I wrote, the protagonist 'Craig' was staying in the same hotel as Bella Swan when she is on her promotional tour for the film. They bump into each other a couple of times in the hotel, get to talking and end up sleeping together. I tried to make the story not just a straight out 'shag-fest', but for the characters to get to know each other first.

I also tried to make the ending a little bitter sweet as both characters enjoyed their time together, but they knew it would never happen again. Their careers were not really compatible and the tyranny of distance made it impossible for them to continue the relationship. 

It wasn't the story I had intended to write. I did it as a way to cure the dreaded 'writers block' on the story I was really working on. In the end I was quite happy with the story and it seemed to be well received on the website. I had a few positive comments, plenty of power stones and even a couple of emails that were complimentary about my work. The positive feedback (and even constructive negative feedback) helped with my confidence and I returned to my incomplete story with a renewed vigour.

About a week after the story had been published, I sat down at my computer after a hard day at work. I didn't feel like writing that night, so I checked Webnovel for new stories and to see if there was more feedback on my current effort. After some time there I decided to quickly check my emails before signing off for the night.

Hello readers. My name is Wang. 
This is the story of a Webnovel Author, who participated in a "Writing Contest" which happened to be "A twilight FanFic Writing contest".

Being a big fan of Twilight Saga and the character Bella Swan, the author decides to participate in the contest.

He was not aware that his participation will make his dreams, both good and bad, come true.

When I was six, a nurse called out to my mother and asked to sign a book. That year, I came to realise that my mother is a famous literary author. 

"I want to read your books." I whined. 

"It's not as exciting as the stories you tell me." My mother smiled. 

When I was eight, I 'borrowed' my mother's books from nurse to read. That year, I came to realise that my mother is an amazing author. 

"Where did you get that?" My mother asked in surprise, recognising the book I borrowed. 

"I borrowed it from a nurse. Do you have anymore books I can read?" I asked using my all powerful superpower, sad puppy eyes.

"I do. But promise me that you will return that 'borrowed' book and apologise to the nurse?" My mother sighed helplessly. 

"Okay." I happily agreed despite being seen through. 

When I was nine, I finished reading all of my mother's works. That year, I came to realise how important I was in her heart. 

"That's because the female protagonists you write are always so brave and incredible! They're the best." I said when she found me hugging a romance novel she first published under a pen name. 

"Silly child. You're wrong. No matter how brave and incredible my characters are, they are only fictional. You are real. Remember. You are the bravest and most incredible person there is. To me, you are the best." My mother said as she began playing with my cheeks. 

When I was ten, I asked my mother if I could be the female protagonist in her next book. That year, my mother said she is retiring as an author to become an editor due to writers block.

"It's only for a little while. I'll write again soon." My mother comforted the crying me. 

"Really?" I asked.

"Really. I want to write the best book I can and have you read it first." She said with a sparkle of certainty in her eyes. 

On my 20th birthday, my mother published her newest work after a ten year hiatus. After being given a very special reading by the author herself, I realised why my mother took ten years to write this novel. 

"I want to read it." I said, surrounded by my family. 

"How about this, I'll read it to you. It's been a long time since I've told you a story." My mother pretended, not knowing I could see the obvious tear stain on her face. 

My mother then read it to me. She was by my side everyday, reading 'There Is Sweetness Within Bitterness, That Is Happiness'. When she couldn't read anymore, my father came. When he couldn't read, my brother came. Then on the last day, my mother finished the last page. 

But unfortunately. I was too tired to hear the ending.

“Lan’er. Didn’t you already read that?” Her mother asked, pointing to her newest novel in her hands. 

“That’s because the female protagonists you write are always so brave and incredible! They’re the best.” Huang Yue Lan proudly spoke.

Her mother reached towards her and lightly pinched her cheeks before shaking her head. “Silly child. You’re wrong. No matter how brave and incredible my characters are, they are only fictional. You are real. Remember. You are the bravest and most incredible person there is. To me, you are the best.”

Years later, surrounded by her family on her deathbed Yue Lan pointed at a book by her bedside. 

“Is that your newest book?” She asked softly. 

Her mother nodded and grabbed the book, ‘There Is Sweetness Within Bitterness, That Is Happiness’. 

“I want to read it.” She declared.

“How about this, I’ll read it to you. It’s been a long time since I’ve told you a story.” Her mother said with a forced smile. 

Yue Lan was too tired to argue so she simply nodded. She listened as her mother told her the story until the very end. Leaving with a smile on her face. 

In death, she received her second chance at life. In the world her mother created. In the world of ‘There Is Sweetness Within Bitterness, That Is Happiness’.

-Weekly releases-

A fiber of connection from miles away...



Our places on this earth are divided by oceans setting us apart from one continent to another. Several countries speaking several languages to understand each other. People with several cultures and beliefs. Different personalities and opinions.

In this chaotic world, we live in called real life we search for a place to escape from that reality. To be accepted as who or what we are. We have found that in the music we sing. In the books, we read. In the movies we watch. In the places, we travel and visit. Everywhere in which we get inspiration to face reality head-on.

We write stories or poems to inspire others, reading the words we weave from our own world. For some of us, it is simply an escape from reality into a world in which we can use our imaginations to dream make-believe or to live our secret fantasies or just plain be creative.

Getting on the web gives us more ways to share and get connected to other people with the same kind of thinking from across the ocean. Some of the people we meet along the way give us reasons to smile again. It's where we become friends, get to know them well, and get so close that we even trust them enough to share our own greatest fears.

I was a living a kind of living death when I found solace here on Stories Space. A place to write, camouflaging my hatred and sadness from myself when I was reading all the poetry and fictional fantasies created by the writers. I found another escape from reality and indulged in reading.

My feelings from my own troubles in life had made me feel so empty that only through laughter and reading could I be free and somewhat whole again.

I made my own heaven in purgatory.

A friend told me to write down all of my pains and troubles in poems or stories. Another friend of mine told me to be fierce in my poetry writing. I found friends who helped me give my own life a reason to continue living again through writing.

Writing makes me calm every time my mind gets into a panic mode. The pains and the fears of the unknown are my muses for writing.

When I met someone who understood me and made me feel needed and loved my poetry changed its tune. It made me think of happy thoughts. I got inspired by the things I saw and the happy memories of my childhood that I could write about.

Painful memories and realities were always there and so I wrote about them from time to time.

When that someone left me I continued writing. The same inner muse I had gained I used to keep on writing.

Then, out of nowhere, I got to know you. I became happy again. This time I got even more inspired and more creative, experimenting with my writings.

I set aside my shyness and reservations to write creatively. I still can't overcome some of my shyness and reservation but I am blooming, inspired by you.

You became my muse.

The man in the moon. The stars in my darkest hours. When at night I can't sleep thinking of you calms me to sleep.

The sunshine after the heavy storm. Where all the dead trees come to life again. That keeps me warm when everything gets chilly.

My own little heaven in my real life purgatory.

Writing...

Rune's Prose & Poetries

LUCID DREAMS

my wandering crazy mind is just doodling in the sands...

it's just me ...this is a collection of my amateurish writings of poetry, short stories, and prose...

These are all short stories compilation a different story per chapter.

WARNING: Adult contents, please be advised that you're reading EROTICA


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
RuneMcGrey
Copyright©2014-present

All writings remains MEG Cabingan a.k.a. RuNe also known as runemcgrey's property.
Don't use it for any other purposes without her permission.

                   Start:11/08/2018

 ALL RIGHT RESERVE©2018
MLTALCANTARA(AUTHOR)

NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS, ELECTRONIC OR MECHANICAL, INCLUDING PHOTOCOPYING, RECORDING OR BY ANY INFORMATION STORAGE AND RETRIEVAL SYSTEM WITHOUT A WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM ME.
********************

Characters,Events,Places or even Names are made  by the writers imagination.
Any resemblance from this book to reality is just a coincidence, or it is used fictional with no intention to harm anyone.

GETTING TO KNOW THE MAIN CHARACTERS:

NICO BETTENCOURT(Multi-Millionaire)
Works with infrastructures/Hotel/Underground Secret Facility.
Asset:
Tall, Lean Muscular body.
Deep hazel eyes.
Captivating Dimples.

Dis-order:
Social Anxiety 
Alter ego (ALUCA)
Over protective 
Over possessive 

(Father/Mother)
NICOLAS/ALICIA BETTENCOURT
(Both deceased/Died when he turns eight years old)


(PEOPLE ASSOCIATED WITH HIM)
YAMATO TATSHIBANA
(Butler/father liked to Nico)

ROKU TATSHIBANA
SORA TATSHIBANA 
(Twins/right hand of Nico/ best friend)

PEOPLE WHO SERVED HIM:
MS. CONSUELO (house maid)
MRS. ANITA(the cook)
MR.JIGS(the gardener/Anita's husband)

RELATIVE:
ADOLFO/VIVIAN BETTENCOURT
JERICHO(cousin)
IRENE(Jericho's Gf)

*****************
EMILY NEVILLE
(General Doctor/psychologies)

New Yorker 
Went to Spain to start new life.
Orphan.

Assets:
Short brown hair 
Green Forest eyes 
Small curvy body
Milky white skin 

**************
FAMILY:
MARCO/AMELIA NEVILLE(father/mother)
Died when she was only one years old.

(LAST REMAINING RELATIVE)
JUDY AND TOM JACKSON
(Auntie/Uncle)

(COUSIN)
John
Timothy 
Judith
Mary Jane

ANTHONY(Emily's Ex-Bf)


(5 BIG MAPHIA IN ITALY)
              
ALLESANDRO ALFONCI
LUCA CONTI
KRISTOFF RUSSO
ANDREI RICCI 
STEFANO MANCINI  
( THEY WILL BE A PART OF THE IMPERFECT PERFECTLY LOVE STORIES)

***********************

CHAPTER-I

*NICO*

Life without a mother who will shower you love, while you're growing up and a father who will teach and guide you from what is right and wrong was like walking blindly on a dark tunnel.

My life would have been better if my father was never been  blinded by love and jealousy.
It would have been warm and happy if my mother just easily accepted my father.
Even so, everything is too late for both.

Thanks to my extended family who treated me like a son I was not completely left alone.
At the age of 8 my childish mind was forced  to maturity.
My life change completely.
Having a big responsibility for the business that  my father left.
I solely focus on maintaining the last remaining proof that I am. Existing. 

I work so hard enough that people start to name me as 'Mr.work a holic' Unlike other business men, I never trusted anyone than Yamato, whom I treated as a father.
I am aloof to anybody.
Having not much people around me while growing up, I develop a social anxiety disorder making it hard for me to meet or let new people in my life.

My business in land and properties around the world is being managed by Yamato while I'm instructing him on the background.
I am gifted with my  father good sight of places where we think in the future would be booming like Los Angeles,NewYork,Paris ,London,Antwerp ,Luxemberg and many more town,city and  places that become a tourist spot nowadays. 

Most of my life I spend in the mansion surrounded by forest where I grow up.
In my free time just like today,
I like to spend it alone wandering around the mountain  standing tall behind my mansion, visiting my parents' graveyard cleaning some weeds stubbornly growing repeatedly around my parents' tombstone or walking to the end of my  property nearly a river that runs down from the mountain inside the forest.

I can't explain why? However, I'm drawn like there's a magnet pulling me to this small two-story house outside my property.
After finding out that this place was left to care by my decease mother.
I felt this duty fell on my shoulder.
I took full responsibility over what my  mother supposed to protect and taken care off.

To be honest, whomever own this property should be thankful enough that the house is still good as new.
I heard from Yamato that the only inheritor of this house is a woman  living in New York.
I tried to offer a good sum of money to buy this place but the woman refuses to sell it, telling Yamato that she would one day want to live in this place.
The idea never fit to my liking knowing I can't come over anytime I want once the woman claims her property.
I really like the house, and sometimes I find peace sleeping on one of its room.
The place is warm not like in the mansion that felt so cold and lifeless...
Bothered, I walk out of the house after inspecting it and stop by in the near river.
Sighing I decided to ease my troubled mind removing all of my clothes and diving into the clear cold water.

                                                        ****************

Nico Bettencourt is a multimillionaire that has a hidden disorder.
With his Adonis  look and money every woman would jump on his bed with a flick of his hand.
but what will happen if a woman from New York stirred his heart and calm his inner demon but turn him down?
 Its simple,
trap her down so she can never escape him.
But will that be so easy? 
When there's a hidden secret of their past that will set the faith of their life.


Complicated love/social anxiety disorder/possessive love/Alter ego / betrayal/ pure love

Amanda Walsh sat down at her desk tapping her pencil on the now strange looking page from her note book. In her mind she knew that the page looked strange because as she looked at her computer screen it looked the same too.
It took her a while to figure it out but she finally did. They were both blank! That wouldn't have been a problem if she didn't have a deadline hanging over her head like an axe coming down to cut her in two. 
Amanda dropped her pencil onto her desk and slumped over her keyboard groaning. Why did it have to be now of all times that she couldn't come up with anything at all.  Now when she need to prove herself to really prove herself. She had been sitting here for five hours now. 
Her head turned to look into the kitchen, that could be a pantry, ( because it was before she 'remodeled' it), and stared longingly at the refrigerator.
" It wouldn't be right. I can't do it. I mustn't... Ohhhhh but I can't help it " 
She lost to self initiated struggle and stood from her chair to walk over to the refrigerator. She retrieved a tub of chocolate and strawberry ice cream and opened the drawers to take a dessert spoon. Amanda tiptoed away from the kitchen giggling like a little child that just got away with a bad deed.
She snuggled into her slightly couch and turned on her television not really paying attention to what she was watching. Over the time she had moved out of her mother's house into her now humble abode, she found the sound of the television on while she ate or simply sat to pass time,  made  the place she called home seem a little less lonely.
" Ahhhhhh Strawberry and chocolate ... I may be breaking the girl code but you know how much I need you don't you?"
She spoke to a tub of ice cream, yes she knew it wouldn't answer her, but being alone for too long did that to you.
" I knew you'd understand!" happy with herself she scooped out a spoonful and savoured the taste of the creamy soft mush in her mouth. Her cute features of pink small and yet plump lips and bright green dou eyes, closed at the moment showing full contentment .' you really are a girls best friend ', she paused for a moment reconsidering her last thought, ' well one of a girls best friends anyway.'
....
An hour of sweet satisfied happiness later with an empty tub in her lap, Amanda looked out her window allowing her bubbly nature to be set aside for a while and letting realty have a touch on her soul. 
All she had ever wanted to do in life was write. She could remember from the the time she was young how she had taken a quick liking to books. Amanda eventually picked out novels of fictional writers, romance, magical realism and many more in that line as her favourite of the lot. Even though she read outside of these categories with enthusiasm too, she found these to be the best of the lot.
In times when she was teased and pushed around by everyone she found time to escape from the harsh world around her into the magical places that pages could take you into.
Her mother of course did not support this at all. Amanda's optimistic and positive nature is what her mother referred to as her soon to be downfall, a dreamers mind.
" Keep up with that sort of attitude and you'll definitely end up like your father! A dreamer. Wake up and start living in the really world." 
" Why can't you be more like your older sister, she's responsible, smart, beautiful amd most importantly not a dreamer! Did she not work hard enough to set out a good example for you."
Yes even now her mother's words still haunted her. Sometimes Amanda wondered how her mother and father met to begin with, Was her mother always the way she was now. Otherwise if she was how on earth did her and Amanda's father get along long enough to have two children with a two year gap in-between them both. Her and her older sister never heard their mother ever speak of their father unless it was to make an example off of him. She, personally remembered very little of him and never really knew what happened to him. She never dared ask her mother about it either or risk waking an force better left unburied.
Looking around her four roomed apartment now, small but furnished well and tidy, she had only one regret, not standing up for what she really wanted to be, who she really was and that was a writer. It's why this contest mattered so much to her. sure it was still three months away but she always preferred to be prepared that way she would be more at ease when she sent it in knowing she'd done her very best. 
Amanda gathered herself off the couch and with a new resolve walked back to her desk and started typing, as at now she didn't care what, she just needed to get her fingers going and her mind up and running. She would figure out the rest as she went.

Amanda Walsh, a small town girl finds herself in a city much larger than what she is used to. Here celebrities, big time CEOs and many of the elites exist and an ordinary like her has chances of seeing them up close and not only on her TV screen or gloss magazines. She crosses paths with JK corporate CEO Jason Kaid, handsome, brilliant and with a reputation that a girl like her should fear, but this doesn't stop a love from blooming between the two.
Will their two very contrary worlds coexist or will all the forces between them prove successful keeping them apart?

Pieces of crumpled up paper littered the floor. A small apartment measuring less than 400 sq feet, the only place he could call home. Sitting at his desk Alvin scrapped yet another idea from the thick notebook that he had grown used to writing in.
He couldn't understand why it was so hard to come up with just one good idea, maybe he just wasn't cut out for this industry. The thought was a bit humbling as he heaved out a big sigh.
He didn't know what had gotten into him or why he had decided to become a writer. Growing up reading and diving deep into novels had become a bit of a habit one that had stuck with him since even after he graduated. The only people who knew what he did for a living could be counted on one hand.
In fact no one knew that he wanted to become a writer not until that day he somehow submitted a short story for a competition and it got listed. Though he didn't get first place the memory of him taking the stage to take a photograph still replayed vividly in his mind.
He had won a special prize for most creative interpretation. The competition was one where writers had to create a fictional piece of work based on a theme. Staring at his front he could still see the plastic award he received that year, more than two years ago.
Since graduating he had slowly joined the workforce just like everybody else. While his job was nothing glamorous it still could be said to be a good job. Working as a clerk in a large department store his salary was stable and the hours were fixed just what he needed for his first job. It was the reason he was able to move out of his house that he shared with his brother and parents.
Everyone was happy especially his brother who was more than eager for him to move out quicker so he could change his room. Looking at the clock Alvin stared as the hands on its face which showed it was almost eight at night. His stomach made a funny noise reminding him that he hadn't eaten yet. He'd been too caught up trying to write down the ideas in his head after work that he had already forgotten.
Turning around he threw his clothes off his body as he bodly walked away naked to the bathroom. There was no one at home and really this was the only reason a guy would want to move out. Sometimes they just liked the freedom of being in the wild just like their ancestors in the past that had survived the cold and the heat hunting wearing only a slip of cloth.
The sound of water soon sounded in the background as Alvin opened the shower. The small bathroom did not have room for a bath, not that he needed one. Running the hot water over his body his mind continued to replay the scene in his mind, the one he had been writing about.
What was more exciting than the sound of wolves rustling in woods as they chased a person on their last breath. Writing that part had been fun, only halfway he had already lost the direction he had been planning to put onto paper. Did he want the character to die or just luckily escape?
A disgruntled mumbling emitted from the small bathroom among the steam that rose into the air. It was not long after that that Alvin came out with a towel draped over his body before putting the kettle to boil in the open kitchen of his apartment.
Nothing could beat the taste of a packet of noodles on an empty stomach at least not the way he made it. Some chopped spring onions and two poached eggs was everything he needed to finish the simple but tasty meal.
Finishing putting his clothes on, the slumped figure of a young man sitting in front of a table could be seen. The constant sounds of slurping making anyone listening hungry, especially the sight of the yellow liquid that spread over the clean broth noodles mixed with the pungent smell of spring onions. Absolutely delicious!
Finishing his meal Alvin walked back to the lonely desk where he would spend most of his time 'working'. As an aspiring writer he knew that practise was the only way he could survive the cruel road to the top. Hours passed as a slumped body finally fell asleep on the table, water quietly pooling out of his mouth as his saliva created a small water bed.
Unfortunately that night was the last night that Alvin would ever spend on Earth. Outside the room the sky continued to rain bringing a downpour that lasted more than a few hours. Unusual but nothing that drew more than a brief mention on the news. However it was not an ordinary night, all over the world many strange things happened including hail in the desert.
Overnight thousands and thousands of people continued their lives only to realise too late that they would never wake up again. Nobody knew the reason for it and scientists after who studied the phenomenon could only conclude that only a small portion of the human population had been affected their state no different than a person in a coma. However this was far from the truth, sometimes could not be explained through science after all.
A blinding light seemed to approach him as Alvin struggled to open his eyes, his head still stuck in the clouds as he wondered if he had forgotten to turn off the lights again in his room. Still a dawning realisation soon displaced this thought as he found himself facing a thing he could never have expected.
A long tentacle of light that was see through reached out to wrap his body as it slowly brought him closer and closer to the middle of the room where a strange thing was happening. Glancing around him he could see he was not the only person in the room in fact hundreds if not thousands of tenctacles like the one that wrapped around him struggled with bodies like him. 
It was only now that he could hear the muffled voices of those around him as they tried to escape the same scene. His mind remained blank and only one thought kept replaying inside, he had to escape!
Activated by fear his mind seemed to turn quicker than normal as he tried to figure out a way out of his current situation. That was also the moment he remembered that he had one way left, his hands moved quickly to try and reach his pocket as he struggled to take out a pen he always carried with him. 
A desparate glow appeared in Alvin's eyes as he stabbed down at the tentacle that was wrapped around his body. The consequence of his action seemed to have little effect, nothing more than a pebble thrown into the sea. 
For the first time in his life Alvin had an abnormal thought, he didn't want to end up as food for the monster that was dragging him closer and closer to the center of the room.
His eyes stared at the pen in his hands that had gone through the tentacle of light without any result. The struggle of wanting to live and dying a strange death played in his mind. Without turning back, he decisively stabbed the pen towards his neck.

By some miraculous twist of fate a failed writer finds himself in a world he never expected to exist. However he has a system? And he is in a baby's body!? 

What is exactly going on?

fictional writers

Writers' Wish

Black Market Merchant

piligrims

Death: A Biography

She Bit Me: Webnovelist To Vampire

There Is Sweetness Within Bitterness, That Is Happiness

LUCID DREAMS

TRAP WITH MR. BETTENCOURT

Unexpected twist

How Far Will This Go

People search fictional writers also like: