I am nervous about writing.
Wait, let me repeat that.
I am nervous about writing. Me, Marigold Alistair, writer extraordinaire, and New York Times best-selling author. I am actually nervous about writing. Colour me shocked.
But then this is different from what I'm generally used to. I'm a fiction writer, more into steamy romance novels, especially when vampires and werewolves are involved but I've never done something like this before. By 'this', I mean ghostwriting. And not regular old ghost-writing either, I'm meant to ghostwrite this rich guy's entire auto-biography so here I am, sitting pretty in the waiting room of his fancy executive floor.
Of course, I've done my research so I know Mr Santarossa is about sixty-three years old and has two children; a son and a daughter. His wife died two years ago (cancer) and he's an extremely private man so there isn't much to be said other than that. The fact that he's a private man just makes me wonder why he wants an autobiography written and published about his life.
What shocks me most is that he called my agent, Lucy, and requested me to ghostwrite his autobiography. Of course, Lucy told him that I don't do that and then he offered a huge amount of money just to have a meeting with me. I mean, some authors specialize in this sort of writing for a living. After this meeting, I will be free to choose whether or not I want to write for him. I'm currently building a house in California so I can move out of New York and I need all the money I can get… so here I am.
The phone rings and blonde secretary (why are they always blonde?) picks it up and tells me I can go in. I stand up and use my hands to smoothen out my yellow pencil skirt which I paired with a cute white shirt today. I have on a beautiful set of Agent Provocateur beneath and I feel goooooood. Well, except for the nerves that come with trying something new.
I strut in my white Marc Jacobs Proposal pumps and open the understated door. I say understated because the office behind the door is amazing. No huge glass or oak doors for this man. All the glass is inside the office instead. As per New York, there just has to be a huge glass wall to view the skyline. Most of the office is either glass or white, with the only colour in the room coming from the bold red chairs in front of the huge glass table and the same colour of sofas at a far corner of the office.
Sitting on said sofas are two men, Mr Santarossa who I can recognize from Google and probably the sexiest man I've ever seen outside of Playgirl. Perhaps even within Playgirl. My gaze stays on him for a few seconds as I appraise the way his muscles fill out his shirt and slacks. Yummy. 
But I'm here for something else so I smile wide and ignore the heat rising slowly in my body. Mr Santarosss is already standing up with a grin on his face to greet me and I walk over to where they are. He seems like a jolly man with his smile lines and rosy cheeks. His hair is surprisingly dark for his age, with only a few silver strands in it and his hairline is still intact. Must be the good Italian genes.
I'm a bit taken aback by his kindness and straightforwardness when he reaches me and kisses both cheeks but I catch myself and appreciate him for trying to make me comfortable.
"It is truly wonderful to meet you, Marigold," he booms cheerfully, "I must say that you are indeed as beautiful as they say you are."
His good mood is way too infectious and I place my hand on my chest in mock shock, "Who says that? It's very nice to meet you too, Mr Santarossa."
"Please, call me Adolfo," he turns around to face the younger man who's still sitting down, "Piero, when a beautiful woman walks into a room, you stand up to greet her properly. You know that."
Piero rolls his eyes slightly and starts to stan up. Adolfo turns back to me, "Please forgive my son's bad manners."
His son? For the first time, I take my attention away from Piero's sweet bod and look at his face properly. He's absolutely breath-taking with his high cheekbones, full lips and piercing dark eyes. His eyes are actually weird though; so black I can't see the difference between pupil and iris. But they're very cold and unwelcoming. His lips, though plump, are set in a small frown and I wonder what's crawled up and build an apartment in his ass. He strikes me as a bad-mannered and cocky man, the complete opposite of his father and I scowl before I can control it.
"See now," Adolfo huffed, "you went ahead and made a beautiful woman upset, Piero. You never upset a beautiful woman, you hear me?"
"Yes father," Piero said with another eye roll. Even his voice sounds bored and cocky, but why did it just ricochet straight to my clitoris? Weird.
Piero stretches his hand out to me for a shake and I take it, only to drop it almost immediately when I feel a small shock on my hand. Either he's the Tin Man or something I've only ever written about just came to pass. Double weird.
Turns out he felt it too because he looks at his hand strangely before looking up at me, "It's… nice to meet you, Marigold."
I don't trust myself to speak yet so I just nod my head.
"Introductions are over, let's sit down and talk," Adolfo says and helps me into a one-seater sofa while he and Piero settle on the three-seater they were on when I came in.
"As your agent must have told you, Marigold, I want to write my autobiography. I am no longer a young man, you know."
I feign shock again, "No way! I can swear you're not a day over thirty."
That earns a laugh from Adolfo, "You flatter me, Marigold but this is something I wish to do. I want to start from my earliest memory up until this meeting. I do not wish to stress you and you will be properly paid, but there is a catch."
I knew it sounded too good not to have a catch, "What is it?" I ask.
Adolfo's eyes turn sad, which is a bit daunting for such a happy man, "I have run this family's business since my father retired and sincerely, I'm tired. The thrill of the business left when my wife died and right now, all I want to do is go to Italy and spend the rest of my life basking in the good memories my wife and I shared."
Aww, I feel so sad for Adolfo. It mustn't be easy to lose a spouse and from the look on his face, they must have been very much in love. I look at Piero to gauge his reaction to this whole situation but his eyes are downcast and his face expressionless.
"Since my wife died," Adolfo continues, "I have been slowly passing the mantle of leadership to Piero here. Of course, he has been trained to do this since he was able to walk but I've been giving him hands-on training since his mother died."
He looks at Piero, who still has no expression on his face and turns back to me, "So the catch is this, to write this book, you will have to come to Italy with Piero and me after my official retirement. You will stay in our family villa and we will be able to talk every day. I will give you all the information required for my autobiography to be completed and your every need will be catered for."
This is a lot. I mean… Italy? Of course, who doesn't want to go to a sexy European country? It's not like I have anything here for me anyway. My parents and two siblings will be fine; I barely ever see them anyway. I have no boyfriend (sad at twenty-eight, I know) and the only person I'll truly miss is my best friend, Imelda. I could make new friends, get inspiration for other books and even maybe meet a nice man.
"How long will I be required to stay in Italy?" I ask.
Adolfo's face lights up at the possibility that I might agree, "As long as it will take to finish and edit the autobiography."
"Alright. I'll go. You can contact my agent for the legal and contractual details. Just let me know when to be ready." 
Piero's face whips up, "That easy?"
I look him dead in the eye and try not to flinch at the intensity of his gaze, "Yes, that easy, Piero. I don't like to dwell on decisions when I already know what I want."
"An admirable quality," Adolfo comments and Piero snorts. Rude.
I stand up and pick up my small bag to leave when I suddenly think of something.
"Actually, Adolfo, I have one request," he looks at me expectantly, "Can my friend, Imelda come? She's a fellow writer and it would be nice to have the company."
"I don't see why she can't come," Adolfo says.
"Awesome!" I beam, "thank you, Adolfo. Piero."
"See you soon, Marigold," he says as I walk out.
That wasn't Adolfo, that was Piero. Triple weird.

I'm to write his father's autobiography, right? That seems easy enough.
As long as I'm able to ignore the poignant chemistry, incessant throbbing between my legs and his father's obvious attempts at match-making, I should be fine, right?

And it should be easy to ignore the way his promises of tying me up and spanking me make me wet... right?

DEAD WRONG!!

Especially when he looks me dead in the eyes one day and asks me to carry his child. Of course, I say no. But it's for his Nana and I have nothing to lose... right?

What kind of extremely cruel person was Third Elder Li Si? He was someone who could kill his own son but now held her in high esteem. He didn't look disloyal to her on the surface and acknowledged her whole-heartedly based on her observations. 
Both First Elder and Second Elder also treated her with respect and would even joke with her occasionally. 
All of this struck Ye Wanwan with disbelief. 
Just who am I…? Could I really have been President Fearless, Bro Flattop, before I lost my memory?
A moment later, Ye Wanwan called Big Dipper. 
"Sis Feng, why are you calling me so late? Do you need something?" Big Dipper answered instantly.
"Where are you?" Ye Wanwan asked. 
"I'm at the hospital to visit my mom," Big Dipper replied. 
"At the hospital visiting your mom?" Ye Wanwan was startled. 
"Yeah. Didn't I say earlier? My mom was hit by a car and is at the hospital…" Big Dipper said. 
Ye Wanwan facepalmed. So Big Dipper's mother really was hit by a car? She always thought Big Dipper's words were full of smoke and didn't contain a lick of truth. Now, it looked like she misjudged him… 
However, it really wasn't her fault. Everything Big Dipper said didn't sound like the truth… 
"Big Dipper, I'm writing an autobiography right now… but there are some details I can't remember clearly… I wanted to ask you whether you remember how many years it's been since I left the Independent State?" Ye Wanwan asked. 
"Four years," Big Dipper replied frankly. "Sis Feng, you're writing an autobiography? Put me in there!"
"Four years…" Ye Wanwan murmured. Then she immediately hung up the phone without giving Big Dipper a chance to continue prattling on. 
Ye Wanwan vaguely remembered that it was also four years ago that the Second Miss of the Nie family, Worriless Nie, disappeared… 
Did that mean Worriless Nie and Bro Flattop disappeared at the same time? 
"Could it be… Worriless Nie was Bro Flattop?!" Ye Wanwan's expression shifted. 
If I'm Bro Flattop… then I…
However, as soon as that thought surfaced, it was squashed instantly. 
It was utterly unrealistic. If Worriless Nie really was Bro Flattop, how could Madam Nie, Nameless Nie, and the rest of Nie family not know about it? 
Furthermore, Bro Flattop wreaked havoc for the Nie family back then too… 
There were simply too many coincidences. Ye Wanwan felt like her mind wasn't enough to process everything. 
She couldn't make an accurate judgment on whether she was Bro Flattop or not. 
"I hope the headmaster of Scarlet Flames Academy can help me recover my memory…" Ye Wanwan murmured with a soft sigh. 
Everything was a futile effort right now; the truth would only be revealed if she recovered her memory.
And her only hope to regain her memory was Scarlet Flames Academy!
Aside from that, Ye Wanwan decided she should make a trip to China soon. 
It wasn't advantageous to drag out Ye Shaoting and Ye Mufan's situation for too long. Moreover, she now had control over the Fearless Alliance. 
If she could bring some people from the Fearless Alliance back to China, the mutiny in the Si family could be easily resolved.
As for Ye Yiyi and her cohorts, they should clean their necks and wait for her. 
Ye Wanwan came to a decision. After heading to Scarlet Flames Academy and enrolling as a new student, she could return to China. 
The night passed without a sound. 
Next morning:
In her sleepy state, Ye Wanwan vaguely heard her phone ring and reflexively answered the call. 
"Morning." A gentle voice was emitted from the phone.
"Ji Xiuran…"
Ye Wanwan shot up immediately, all trace of drowsiness dispersing.
"Xiao Feng, you should go to Scarlet Flames Academy and report there," Ji Xiuran said softly. 


“How perverted is Si Ye Han's taste? He still wants me like this?” Waking up, she looked at her reflection in the mirror: explosive wig, tattoos, and demon-like makeup. Any normal person’s eyes would burn if they looked at her for more than a second.
Before her rebirth, she was in love with a different guy, so all she wanted to do was escape from Si Ye Han and hated him to his core after being locked up by him. 
After her rebirth, she looked differently at him, thinking that maybe he changed for the better?
In the past, her mind was muddled. She let go of a stunning husband, was hurt by a scumbag and backstabber and most of all, was brainwashed by her most trusted friend. In the end, she was utterly alone.
In her current lifetime, there are evil people scheming and eagerly waiting for her downfall. Sorry, but this girl won’t fall for the same tricks twice! 

What kind of extremely cruel person was Third Elder Li Si? He was someone who could kill his own son but now held her in high esteem. He didn't look disloyal to her on the surface and acknowledged her whole-heartedly based on her observations.
Both First Elder and Second Elder also treated her with respect and would even joke with her occasionally.
All of this struck Ye Wanwan with disbelief.
Just who am I…? Could I really have been President Fearless, Bro Flattop, before I lost my memory?
A moment later, Ye Wanwan called Big Dipper.
"Sis Feng, why are you calling me so late? Do you need something?" Big Dipper answered instantly.
"Where are you?" Ye Wanwan asked.
"I'm at the hospital to visit my mom," Big Dipper replied.
"At the hospital visiting your mom?" Ye Wanwan was startled.
"Yeah. Didn't I say earlier? My mom was hit by a car and is at the hospital…" Big Dipper said.
Ye Wanwan facepalmed. So Big Dipper's mother really was hit by a car? She always thought Big Dipper's words were full of smoke and didn't contain a lick of truth. Now, it looked like she misjudged him…
However, it really wasn't her fault. Everything Big Dipper said didn't sound like the truth…
"Big Dipper, I'm writing an autobiography right now… but there are some details I can't remember clearly… I wanted to ask you whether you remember how many years it's been since I left the Independent State?" Ye Wanwan asked.
"Four years," Big Dipper replied frankly. "Sis Feng, you're writing an autobiography? Put me in there!"
"Four years…" Ye Wanwan murmured. Then she immediately hung up the phone without giving Big Dipper a chance to continue prattling on.
Ye Wanwan vaguely remembered that it was also four years ago that the Second Miss of the Nie family, Worriless Nie, disappeared…
Did that mean Worriless Nie and Bro Flattop disappeared at the same time?
"Could it be… Worriless Nie was Bro Flattop?!" Ye Wanwan's expression shifted.
If I'm Bro Flattop… then I…
However, as soon as that thought surfaced, it was squashed instantly.
It was utterly unrealistic. If Worriless Nie really was Bro Flattop, how could Madam Nie, Nameless Nie, and the rest of Nie family not know about it?
Furthermore, Bro Flattop wreaked havoc for the Nie family back then too…
There were simply too many coincidences. Ye Wanwan felt like her mind wasn't enough to process everything.
She couldn't make an accurate judgment on whether she was Bro Flattop or not.
"I hope the headmaster of Scarlet Flames Academy can help me recover my memory…" Ye Wanwan murmured with a soft sigh.
Everything was a futile effort right now; the truth would only be revealed if she recovered her memory.
And her only hope to regain her memory was Scarlet Flames Academy!
Aside from that, Ye Wanwan decided she should make a trip to China soon.
It wasn't advantageous to drag out Ye Shaoting and Ye Mufan's situation for too long. Moreover, she now had control over the Fearless Alliance.
If she could bring some people from the Fearless Alliance back to China, the mutiny in the Si family could be easily resolved.
As for Ye Yiyi and her cohorts, they should clean their necks and wait for her.
Ye Wanwan came to a decision. After heading to Scarlet Flames Academy and enrolling as a new student, she could return to China.
The night passed without a sound.
Next morning:
In her sleepy state, Ye Wanwan vaguely heard her phone ring and reflexively answered the call.
"Morning." A gentle voice was emitted from the phone.
"Ji Xiuran…"
Ye Wanwan shot up immediately, all trace of drowsiness dispersing.
"Xiao Feng, you should go to Scarlet Flames Academy and report there," Ji Xiuran said softly.


“Bakit napakalibog ni Si Ye Han? Ganito pa rin ang tingin niya sa akin?” Pagkagising niya, tiningnan niya ang kanyang sarili sa salamin: sinalubong siya ng sabog na wig, tatuan at mala-demonyong makeup. Kahit isang segunda lang, paniguradong masusunog ang mga mata ng isang normal na tao. 
Iba ang lalaking iniibig niya sa una buhay noon, bago siya mabuhay muli. Gusto niya lamang makawala kay Si Ye Han na kinagagalitan niya dahil ikinulong siya nito, Pero nang mabuhay siya ulit, nag-iba ang kanyang pananaw kay Si Ye Han, umaasa na siya na baka… magbabago na ito?
Sa buhay niya noon, walang direksyon at napakagulo ng isip niya. Naghiwalay sila ng gwapo niyang asawa, sinaktan ng masama at mapanirang tao; higit sa lahat, ginamit siya ng matalik niyang kaibigan.
At sa huli, siya ay naiwang nag-iisa. 
Pero ngayon, sa panibagong buhay niya,  hinihintay at nagpa-plano na pabagsakin pa lamang siya ng mga masasamang taong iyon. 
Pasensya na pero, hindi na muli magpapaloko ang babaeng ito!


It was the year 2046. In the distant and faraway planet or Yr lived a lonely alien named Ickapoo. It had no friends as all its species had been vanquished from a meteor storm. In its solitude and misery it pined for a companion.
Yr was a bare and inhospitable planet. With winds blowing at 150 km an hour, it was virtually impossible to see past the blizzard and storm. Ickapoo yearned for friends and company. Many a time he fiddled with his transistor radio, sending out messages and hoping for a response. He sent fire launchers and rockets into space, hoping that some space traveler would find out about his existence. Ickapoo was an alienated alien. In the same way humans wondered whether we were the only species to inhabit the universe, Ickapoo felt estranged and isolated from the rest of the cosmos.  Join Ickapoo on his escapades across galaxies and worlds in search of company.
Ickapoo the lonely Alien, 2046 is created by Chung Chin-Yi , an eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author

12/06/2020 ~ Queeneth & Sire's love story 

     You might think that she is a bit naive
When she says that someday, she'll be your queen 
~ Dreamer Girl by Asa.

"So what do you have in mind?" I asked Sire eagerly.

"Can you come to the front seat of the car? I have something to show you." He asked. I removed his laptop from my lap and placed it gently by the side.  I opened the door to my side and went out of it, shutting it firmly behind me. Then I walked to the side of the front seat's door, opened it and hopped onto it's seat, shutting the door. I was seated next to Sire now. 

I know I could have simply just slide over to the front seat without having to do all of that but it was awkward having my butt in someone's face. Besides, I had tried it once when I was sixteen and I farted in the process. Worse off, I farted on my dad's face and it stunk badly. It was embarrassing. 

Sire said nothing though. He just let me do what I wanted to do or rather still, he was uninterested since what he had to tell me was more important. Then he brought out his iPad and swiped through some pictures in his gallery till he got to a particular picture and then stopped. Then he showed it to me. 

I stretched a little further so I could be closer to him and to enhance my ability to see the picture. It was a picture consisting of a sheet of paper and a quill and a few scribblings on the paper. Then there was a bold writing by the side, which read; 

Writing contest for High school Students. Winner of the contest gets a free trip to France. You must be between the age sixteen and nineteen to be able to participate in this contest. 
Deadline: 26th of July, 2020 
Visit: elixirwritingcontest@gmail.com to register for the contest and to enquire for more information. 

"How am I even supposed to participate in a writing contest when I can't even update my story during the week? Besides do you think  parents would even let me go to France by myself?" 

"Worry about France later and start thinking of what you can possibly write that would help you win the contest. How you are going to participate in the contest should not even be your problem right now because I would help you with that. You have me. Don't forget that. You just think of a short story you can write that would help you win the contest." He assured. 

But he had no idea, how long it always took me to come with something to even write. That would involve a lot of thinking. 

"So what would happen to the current story I am updating?" 

"You can make the story a meta fiction. You can write about your life story and about your characters at the same time. You can easily make it a two in one story." 

"Easily? So what do you want me to write about myself? My life isn't even all that interesting. Shall I just formulate some sappy romance story for myself involving some hot jerk of a guy? Look, this does not even look too possible." I huffed, uneasy and uncertain about everything. 

It looked difficult. 

"Calm down Queeneth." He tolled his eyes because It was clear that he could not help it. We were both frustrated. You just can not start concluding that it would not work when you have not even started." 

I took a deep breath and heaved a sigh. He was looking at me with some kind of resolution in his eyes; like he was hell bent on convincing me yet pissed off at the same time that I was not buying it. He clenched and unclenched his jaws and did the same for this fists to as he groped the steering wheel in one hand. 

"You don't have to give your self that kind of stupid storyline. You can simply write your autobiography. How about your legs? Huh? Write about them. Can't you? I've known you for a while now and I know you are not shy or insecure about sharing your story because you have bene doing just that on your Instagram posts for a while. You can simply just write about your legs and inspire people who have bodily defects of any kind. You have been inspiring people in your own way for so long and you have dealt with your situation in the best way. 

You can write about how your peculiarity has helped you attain even more confidence rather diminishing it and besides many people do not  even know what Blount's Disease is neither do they know what it feels like to be in that situation or how to deal with it. You writing about it in your story would be you creating awareness in all of it's spheres. Imagine teaching the whole world what only you or a few people know about? I know it's easy for them to google what Blount's disease is but at the end of the day, they would never know much about it until someone who has been through it, narrates to the world what it is like. You can peacefully create the perfect picture and take your readers on a dive into your world and tell it in your own authentic way. No one else would be able to tell your story like you can tell it. This would not only make you win the contest, it would gain worldly recognition. Pick your pen and educate the world in your own way babe." 

"Hmm." I let out a breathe I did not know I had been stifling. "This is a lot and this would take a lot of time and speed would be needed no matter what?" I concluded. 

"Do not worry babe. We have about a month left to the deadline. You just do the writing. If you are still worried about the current story you're updating, we can do it together. You can write your story outline on a notepad and how you want it to be written on Wattpad when it's being posted and I would do the typing for you. Bring the notepad along with you when we meet next Saturday and write a part of your story too so you can update it on my laptop for Saturday. I would do the posting of your story on Sunday. You just give me the notepad and I would type it exactly as you've drafted it. Then I would give you your notepad the following week and we can continue the routine. I would handle your story while you handle your autobiography. We can do this babe." 

"Why do you want me to chip in my autobiography into my story though? I mean, I just wanna know."

"You know, this is more than just posting your story on a website for judgement so you can win a contest. That is temporary. I want it to be permanent. It is your story babe and the world has to know about it. I want it to be published. The whole world might not get to read the work of whoever won a popular contest or even if they do, it might just end up as a news that would trend for some time and then it dies down but the whole world can have an access to a book forever and if it's in a book, it stays forever and ever. Besides I know for sure that your daddy would be proud of you. You might not like him now because he's not letting you do what you want and he thinks you would have to succumb to his wishes at the end of the day but you can fight babe and you can fight in your own way. There's no way he would not be proud of you and eventually let you go for what you want." 

"You know we meet every fortnight. How would I possibly come to see you next week?" I asked and then I got the answer in my head as soon as I had asked. I snapped my fingers in the air ecstatically. "I can just lie to my parents about my legs. I haven't had leg pains in a while so if I wince now and tell them I was going through a crisis, they would believe me and would want me to come and visit your dad every week. I mean it's pretty easy to tell my mum, "mummy I can't sweep today because my leg is hurting me. It's seriously paining me." " 

We progressed into a session of hearty, long laughter, hitting each other's chests euphorically which made me wonder why we were laughing so much but it did feel warm to laugh so much, speaking of the part tension that was existent between us a few moments ago. 

"It must be a real pleasure. Hmm. That sounds like a plan that would work really well!" Sire added after the long session of laughter. 

"Thank you, Sire. For all that you do for me. I mean, I did not even think of this. Just thought I could change the lives of people around me and do my thing in my own small way but I guess it's time to pick up my pen, huh?"

"All you just need is to stop doubting babe and do your thing because I'm here for you and I ain't complaining." 

He reached out for my hands and he took mine in his, squeezing it affectionately. It surprisingly made zaps of electricity course through my entire body which I had never felt before. 

He held my hand reassuringly and smiled at me, the ray of hope in his eyes was contagious, like a flame on a candle; it lit up my dead wax and gave me a course to believe that now was all I had and all I had to do was think of just one single reason why it was possible for me to participate in the writing contest amidst ninety reasons why it was not possible. 

And that one reason was him. He was all I had and All I could ever need. 

As the sun was setting  on the edge of river in a seeming, fleeting iridescence of pinkish, red and orange colors, the natural hue bliss shone on Sire's face, his brown eyes glistening so beautifully as he stared at me, I could feel my soul beam. I bit my lip slightly from the tingling excitement I had been feeling. 

I made a decision to record every single moment, everything about Sire and how much of an amazing person he was, this moment where we had made a crucial decision of our lives. I was going to write about all of it in it's authentic occurrence as a part of my novel and as a marking of the beginning of my autobiography. 

That was the least I could do, for a person who clearly loved me ethereally enough to make me risk so much and was willing to risk a lot for me as well. His love took me out of my comfort zone just so I could be the best version of myself. 

He came closer to me now and placed a soft kiss on my plump lips. The sunset created a sinewy shadow on his face as he stared at me, still smiling radiantly. It was golden. It made me melt. He pulled back, still holding my hand in his. It was the first time I had ever been kissed by any one yet it was not as stupid or as embarrassing as I always imagined it to be. It was blissful; it was like the sealing of a covenant; a sign to mark the beginning of a radical change; the alpha of our stories. 

I promise to write and make the best out of my story, even if it was for this cause alone.

"I'm coming for you. No matter how far you think you can run, I can assure you that you can't hide and I'm closer to you than you think." 

Cassandra receives this letter from her mailbox. She has been receiving these threats on a regular basis and her entire life is at stake. The tragedy of her life puts not only her, but her husband, Mustafa on the edge as well as Sandra is curious as to who is planning to put her in bondage again. 

Who could want to put her in captivity? Could it be her ex boyfriend, Dan? No. A lot of things that would rather remain forgotten had already transpired between them so there was no way on earth that he would want her. Could it be the loan shark that enslaved her when she was nine? Or could it be her mother placing yet another stupid and risky gamble over her life?

************************

Queeneth, The author of the salacious series, Our side of the dice has been made to write her story in hiding all through the years simply because her parents want her to study law rather than follow her passion. An opportunity finds it's way to Queeneth through her lover, Sire who has been helping her write her story successfully. Queeneth has a chance to participate in a contest that could change the course of her life for good if she wins it and she has all it takes to win. But with her parents standing in the way, would she be able to follow her dreams regardless of it all?

I was convinced by my daughter to write an autobiography with her. 
She has long copied my love of literature and now wants to spread her own ideas to the world. 
So here we are. Writing next to each other within the comfortable library of our castle. 
Her nightgown shakes as she furiously writes on her parchment. Her nose naturally wrinkles as she concentrates in such a cute way. 
Her mother is not much of a fan of writing, but nevertheless she takes casual glances while she holds a book in front of her beautiful face.
Ha, I can't help but laugh at this peaceful environment. 
I have so many people to thank for this wonderful scene, I hope that as I write their stories through my point of view I do them the justice they deserve.
Of course, this biography will be written through both me and my daughter's views. 
As my daughter wished, instead of two separate books the stories are written together. I will start each chapter with mine, and the chapter will end with hers. 
This is her first novel, but she's old enough to project a better understanding of the world when she was younger. 
So I must warn you that they will be distinct writing styles, and we have decided that we would not filter our experiences no matter how painful. 
Please enjoy… 

An astronaut set out on the voyage to colonize Mars. Thanks to an unexpected accident he is lost to the void of space. He awakens bloodied in his spacesuit in an unknown forest. The crows warning him to run from a demon dead set to turn him into a corpse. He must now survive in a world that defies his scientific understandings whose technological era seems to be years in the past. 

He's not the hero of this new world. He was neither a special nor an important individual. Can he use his knowledge of the modern world to give him an edge?

A girl bullied by the darkness of society. Pushed to her mental limits and bound to escape finds her salvation under the hands of a complete stranger. Will she be able to follow in his steps, or will he forsake her like many before? 

In an era where magic is worshiped, kingdoms colonize, and gunpowder has begun its mass production.

The first memory that I have? It was my own birth, no I wasn't crying like most babies. I was calm and collected, and I didn't even know what those words mean, but that was just how I am. I knew I had a sister, but I came first, so I AM the oldest! hahahaha! My name is Proteos Kritikah by the way.

My sister's name is Lucine, the Princess of the Kritikah clan. She likes to act like she's more mature than me, but that's just because I'm older and she knows it. Anyway, when she came next, she cried for a bit, until she noticed that I wasn't crying. She immediately stopped, and she knew, oh yeah, she knew that she lost hehehehe!

Sadly that was only one of my few wins. For the next 6 months, we couldn't talk yet, so the both of us communicated via expressions and sounds. After her loss to me, we made a bet to see who can start talking first. I tried my best, but she beat me by 1 month! 1 MONTH!!! Are you kidding me! I had to suffer her gloating for 1 fucking month! Hmph! For a gentleman's revenge, 10 years is not too long. I got the upper hand though, I started reading first just before we turned 1 muahaha! of course, for a gentleman such as I, I only gave her a smirk. Revenge truly is sweet.

The next day, I was going to start my session of reading books out loud around her, but Damnit, she took my book and started reading! Uguu!!! I almost coughed out blood. I don't care what you think, that was still a win in my book, since I was the first one to show my reading skill. After that I knew I couldn't win against her anymore, so I started learning more about the world I live in. 

There are nine realms in the world, each separated by a veil. In the past there was no way to travel between the nine realms, that is until the Kuroma reached the level of supreme in magic. The highest 
state one can reach in one's class. Kuroma then spent years researching to create doorways between realms. I wondered how he knew that there were "realms" other than ours. I looked more into his biographies, which was countless, well okay just 15 books, not a lot. He did do an autobiography though, which was neat! why would he write his own autobiography? Best way to let people know his achievements, I guess. So I read the 15 biographies first, and I found something which I thought was weird, In those 15 books, all of them were missing a big part of his life! They were missing everything from the birth to his 60s, they all started at age 63, when he appeared during the coronation of my grandfather to present a gift. At the time he was only a Master Mage, whatever the gift was, none of the 15 books elaborated. I will have to ask father later. Kuroma accomplished great things for a decade and stayed in the spotlight, which is covered by the biographies, he then disappeared for 2 decades, before coming back with the creation of the "Doorway of Realms". He died few years ago at the age of 207, still quite young for his state as he could have lived for a millennium. Unsurprisingly it shocked all of the nine realms. Numerous experts and royal families from all nine realms came just for his funeral, some I have heard great things off of late. Now were here, about to read his autobiography, but mother is coming with my food. I will be back after I've read it.



Proteos Kritikah
Day 1 of writing practice

The journey of the twin offspring of the realms king.

***** Warning!!! Hobby?!  I will try to write 1 chapter every 2-3 days. Don't quote me on that... or you can idc. I'll accept any advise or criticism on the comments! thank you very much!*****

Heya.
Illusion breaking author here to give a very brief explanation of what this novel entails. Well it's not really illusion breaking if the story hasn't 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 begun yet, right?
Some of you perceptive people may have noticed that the title and synopsis reads just 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 bit similarly to Douglas Adams' 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy'. That isn't a coincidence. I am taking a decent amount of inspiration from the omnibus in terms of writing style. Essentially, this book is gonna be an amalgamation of different media I enjoy and also my Dungeons and Dragons games. Am I a hack? 𝐀𝐛𝐬𝐨-𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠-𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲. I'm new to writing so I'd rather botch the jump but make the landing than go in completely blind. Plus, this is more of a fun little project than genuine work.
You may have also noticed the odd spelling of "elven", which is now "elvyn". This isn't a mistake, I'm not that stupid, I just wanted a way to differentiate the world of this story from others. Normal, real world linguistics and dialect is something that many authors don't seem to care about very much. Perhaps they are more inclined to stick to a traditional Tolkienesque world that has oversaturated the fantasy genre.
This novel is gonna be in the style of an autobiography of a person in a fantasy world, with little sections of exposition detailing magicks and the sorts. So uh. Heads up, I guess.
There is a lot more I would like to explain, but I'm afraid that may mess even further with immersion, which I wish to maintain.

Okay now. Let's go.

Once, there was a great cloud of darkness—one that would engulf the entire continent of Ulteania. And thus, the sons of the Grand Morgan would set the world ablaze once more.

These are the undocumented and classified stories of the MORGAN Unit—the Asceanian espionage unit that singlehandedly halted the Seventh Daemonic War.

These two are inspirational stories which help me see life in clear perspective. I want to share these with you all.

Once a great writer was busy in writing the last chapter of his autobiography. It was two thirty in the night. Someone knocked on his door. He opened his door and saw an Angel of Death (Yamdoot) standing. Angel told him, "Your time on this earth is over. I came to take you with me."
 
Writer said, "I am ready to go with you, but would you kindly give me ten minutes? I am about to complete my book. It will be very kind of you."
 
Angel of Death said, "Ok, I'll wait outside."
 
Writer wrote in haste and went on throwing his written papers in the dustbin. He was not satisfied with his writings.
 
There was a knock on his door. Again, he took ten minutes' time from the Angel of Death, which he granted him. He wrote earnestly. He threw those papers in the dustbin again.
 
There was a knock on his door, and the Angel of Death granted him time for the third time. He did the same thing. He went on writing and throwing papers in the dustbin.
 
Again, there was a knock on his door. This time while going to open the door. Suddenly, an idea flashed in his head. He asked, last ten minutes from the Angel of Death.
 
The Angel of Death told him, smiling, "Mr. Writer; I know you are writing the last chapter of your autobiography. So far, you have written and thrown forty-one pages in the dustbin. While coming to open the door, an idea flashed in your mind. You are trying to write about one's relation with his fellow beings, neighbors, relatives, friends, wife, and children. You were trying to write the truth based on your experience, it is perfect, but just now, you have experienced the truth. Mr. Writer, you forget one thing before one's soul is taken out of his body; we take his voice first then he realizes his life's journey. He realizes the truth that is why a person weeps before his death. He wants to share this truth of life with his kith and kin, but he becomes incapable of talking. You do not worry your book will be published by writing the last chapter from your pages from the dustbin. Your book will publish, and people will love it. The magic of this life will remain flowing. People will remain enchanted, intoxicated, and inspired with the color and pleasure of this world, as ever. I am sorry I cannot give a single minute now. Why don't you think who would like to live in this world after knowing its truth?"
 
I have seen how the name, fame, and money change a man. He steeps low, so much so he considers himself to be a demigod. He puts his faults squarely on others and takes pride in it.
 
Once Emperor Akbar asked Birbal "Birbal can you tell me where GOD lives? Why do we not see him? And what he does?". 
 
This question surprised Birbal, but he calmed himself and said, "His Highness, it will be very kind of you, if you will grant me a week's time to answer these questions."
 
"Ok, Birbal, I have faith in your wisdom. I am sure you will certainly find the proper answer to these questions." King said.
 
Birbal was very much disturbed for finding the right answers to these questions. Birbal's son was about twelve years old asked his father "Papa, why you are so troubled?"
 
"Nothing so serious, I am disturbed because of the king's question," Birbal told his son.
 
Birbal's son asked, "Papa, tell me the questions which have troubled you. I have never seen you so much troubled in the past. Papa tells me, I may help you in finding the answer."
 
Birbal told his son the questions for which he was so disturbed. After listing the question, Birbal's son said, "That's it. I know the answer. You are unnecessarily worried. Whenever you ask me, I will tell the king the answer to his questions."
 
Birbal became thrilled. He communicated the wish of his son to King Akbar. King became delighted. He fixed a date and time of his durbar. Birbal's son came in his durbar. King asked, "Son, tell me your answers."
 
Birbal's son told the King, "Your highness, I am your subject but not your courtier or working in any capacity in your kingdom. In our places, if any outsider enquires about anything, we offer him a glass of water first, only then he gets the answer. Here I am standing in the durbar of his highness King Akbar, and no one offered me even a glass of water."
 
When King listened to this, he asked his man to bring milk for Birbal's son.
 
He brought and gave a large bowl of milk to the boy. After holding the bowl of milk, the boy searched for something in the milk by his finger. King asked him, "What are you searching in the milk?"
 
"Your highness, I'm looking for the butter in the milk." the boy said.
 
"But in this way, you cannot find butter in the milk. For making butter first, we make curd from the milk, then it is stirred, and butter comes out, son."
 
The boy said, "your highness I have answered your two questions." 
"How come you have answered my two questions?" King enquired.
       
The boy said, "GOD lives in the heart of every human being. When a human being makes curd of self and then stirs himself, he sees GOD inside him."
 
King became thrilled to hear the answer. He said, "I am delighted to hear your answer. I am very much impressed with your intelligence. Now you answer my third question."
 
The boy asked the King, "May I be permitted to ask a question from you, your highness."
 
"Ask me whatever you want to ask."
 
King allowed the boy.
 
"Your kindness, your highness I only want to know that whether you would like to hear the answer to your third question as a king or as a student. If you would like to know the answer as a King, then it will be a matter of guess because I will have to guess the answer which you have in your mind but, if you would like to know the answer like a student, then you will have to have faith in your guru (Teacher). So now, your highnesses, tell me in which capacity you wish to know my answer." The boy asked the King.
 
Emperor Akbar thought for a while then said, "I would like to know the answer as a student."
 
"Thank you very much, your highness, you have made it easy for me to answer your third question, but your highness does it not look weird that a guru is standing in front his student, while a student is sitting on his throne." Boy said.
 
"Great, you have pointed the right thing." By saying, this emperor put the boy on his throne and stood in front of him in the middle of his durbar.
"This is what GOD does." the boy said, "he puts someone from ground to throne and someone from the throne to ground in a jiffy."
 
That is why we say- His ways, only he knows.

This book offers remarkable insight on appreciating life's simple moments. 
It talks about love, betrayal, material wealth and human convictions. 
It dwells on both the tangible and the abstract. It illuminates the significant. 
The characters do not dominate as single entities but as a piece of the collective. They complete each vignette which, in turn, supplements their metamorphosis. 
Entirely insightful with metaphysical messages that transcend beyond any epoch, it will touch the universal truths by going back to the basic
Readers can re-examine their own values, personal conflicts, and self-beliefs.
I have tried my best express in simple words to take my ideas to the readers.
Men in power seldom think about poor and downtrodden, but when ….?

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