Fake Saint Of The Year Novels & Stories

For ten years, my legs ached like they were being sawed off every time it rained. It was a hidden injury from walking to all those churches. But I never complained. It was the price I paid to pray for my dead love. Until today. On the TV screen of a rundown motel, I saw Julian, who was supposed to be resting at the bottom of the lake. The headline screamed: Ascension Ceremony for the New Don of Chicago's Biggest Mafia, the Falcone Family.

The Heavenly Bar, it's where she's been working for the past two years. It gave men out there the chance to taste her body for a not so cheap price. A hell she never imagined would be the place where she had to rely on to support her sister's life, apart from the hospital of course.

Since then, the youngest heir to the Vuitton tech fortune released a follow-up video—in clothes this time—apologizing, no doubt attempting to mend ties with the Bass family, whom the Vuittons invest heavily into. Good luck with that. In the video, she—or should I say her lawyer—explains the dangerous prevalence of artificial intelligence and deepfakes, painting Priscella as an innocent victim of some extortionate hacker, who has yet to be unveiled. Let me be the first to say, no one's believing that, Miss Vuitton. Not me, not my readers and especially not tycoons on Silicon Avenue. All of us know the truth... Those pixels were realer than every one of your "orgasms."

Maximo mocks me. “It’s acting that way because you are close and touching me in places that get me excited,” I say with a shaky breath. Maximo smirks and Santino chuckles, “Oh really?” Maximo pushes away with hands up in surrender. I know they didn’t believe my lie. I nod my head. “You are forgetting we are dragons, Samantha, we have been around for hundreds of years. The only thing I am curious about is how did you it. That safe, no one has ever been able to open it until you left your scent lingering around it.” Santino says.

I moved to another city and spent half a month trying to stitch myself back together, convincing myself I could start all over again. But the moment I stepped into the real world, I realized how broken I really was because the five years gone had stripped me of everything. From my dignity to my confidence, and even my instincts... They were all gone.

Lylah sat down, blocking Raj from her vision and blocking his voice as well. The public needs something new, something fresh, production companies need this, it is a hit novel by our very own editor, Lylah Jeurgens, Ladies and Gentlemen, I present, Hurt In A Year", Raj clapped. The auditorium erupted with series of clapping. Lylah abruptly stood to her feet, looking around frantically. What in the world was going on?, This wasn't the book she agreed to pitch. Was Raj trying to set her up?, How did he even know about Hurt In A Year?

I smiled, but a flicker of melancholy and weariness settled in my chest. Moments like these always stirred up memories I tried to keep buried – the fall of the Winters name, the whispers of scandal, and the hollow echo of an empty estate. After my father’s business empire under the weight of mismanagement and fraud allegations, my stepmother, Dahlia, in a desperate attempt to secure our future, laced my drink with drugs and sent me to Leon’s suite during a charity gala. Her plan was simple: force Leon, my childhood friend, into a position where he’d have no choice but to marry me.

She didn't know who it was but it was finally time to meet the person who has been gifting her Christmas for the past four years. Fourteen years old Year stood up and walked over to the board that she used to track her progress on finding her secret santa. She had been going block after block, apartment after apartment, house after house searching for a man that would fit the description for the last three years. Her town might not have been that big, but looking for a single man was like looking for a needel in a haysack. But she kept looking. And after three years she had two more houses left, assuming that the person does live in town. She ran out quickly and went to the first house but f

He had impatiently replied, "Why should we celebrate Christmas too? You're so ridiculous." I admit that I had been gaslit at the time, especially after I had just seen the luxury jewelry set worth over nine million dollars in his suit pocket. But now, Melissa was wearing that exact same jewelry set. At my silence, Yves climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around me, pressing his lips against mine.

They claimed they weren't dating, but I was sure they were going on another date. "It's called Ghostwriting, Cathy." "Then, write your own stuff." She deadpanned. "I only write for the money as a side hustle. It's not a career path." "Whatever." "You guys should have fun though. I'll be there on the next one." I yelled out as Spencer rode past us without even saying bye. "Why lie?" I jumped at the sudden voice behind me, but then I remembered Blake was still present. "You're still going to make another excuse the next time. If it's not partying, you aren't in."