Is Book Stranger Than Fiction Based On A True Story?

After falling for and marrying one of the most powerful billionaires in New York, Kylian Kincaid, Chloe believed her life was perfect. It truly seemed so until Kylian began to change. The loving man she had married was gone, replaced by a monster she couldn't recognize. Emma, her cousin, became the sole source of love remaining in her life. Heartbroken, Chloe decided to divorce Kylian with the help and support of her dear cousin, Emma, as she attempted to rebuild her life. Little did she know the betrayal she would soon uncover and the horrific incident that would leave her scarred forever. Unintentionally, Chloe caught the attention of another billionaire, Max West, who was even more influential than Kylian. He was used to getting whatever he desired. Max and Kylian had been rivals since high school. What happens when Kylian discovers that his arch-enemy, Max, has fallen madly in love with his ex-wife, Chloe? Kylian swore to get her back from this overly possessive man willing to kill anyone who tried to take Chloe away from him. Chaos ensued as Chloe was torn between these two men while she sought swift revenge on the one woman who had initially ruined her marriage. Who was this mysterious woman?

What happens when your life is just a lie? What happens when you finally find out that none of what you believe to be real is real? What if you met someone who made you question everything? And what happens when your life is nothing but a fiction carved by Mr. Fiction himself? "The truth is rarely pure and never simple." — Oscar Wilde. Disclaimer: this story touches on depression, losing someone, and facing reality instead of taking the easy way out. ( ( ( part of TBNB Series, this is the story of Clarabelle Summers's writers ))

Bedtime stories, fantasy, fiction, romance, action, urban,mystery, thriller and anything more you can think ... Just a warning ... none of them are normal.

This is the story of a girl who’s fantasies and traumas begin to blend with her reality till the lines become so blurred she’s not sure which one is actually the reality

Her name was Cathedra. Leave her last name blank, if you will. Where normal people would read, "And they lived happily ever after," at the end of every fairy tale story, she could see something else. Three different things. Three words: Lies, lies, lies. A picture that moves. And a plea: Please tell them the truth. All her life she dedicated herself to becoming a writer and telling the world what was being shown in that moving picture. To expose the lies in the fairy tales everyone in the world has come to know. No one believed her. No one ever did. She was branded as a liar, a freak with too much imagination, and an orphan who only told tall tales to get attention. She was shunned away by society. Loveless. Friendless. As she wrote "The End" to her novels that contained all she knew about the truth inside the fairy tale novels she wrote, she also decided to end her pathetic life and be free from all the burdens she had to bear alone. Instead of dying, she found herself blessed with a second life inside the fairy tale novels she wrote, and living the life she wished she had with the characters she considered as the only friends she had in the world she left behind. Cathedra was happy until she realized that an ominous presence lurks within her stories. One that wanted to kill her to silence the only one who knew the truth.

I suffered from a skin condition. I scratched myself in the library, and millions of netizens spammed my private inbox. Only then did I find out that a girl accused me of harassing her. I took out my diagnostic report to defend my innocence, but the girl cried pitifully. “You really know how to make an excuse for yourself! How could someone innocent like me frame you?” Even my elder brother spoke up for her! “Why would she frame you of all people? Can’t you take a look at yourself?” I could not bear the cyberbullying, and I died from a sudden heart attack the day before the court hearing. My grandfather could not accept my death, and he collapsed into a coma. My parents cut off ties with my brother before they committed suicide at home. Meanwhile, the girl did not just successfully make her way into graduate school, but she also dug open my grave and used my ashes to make fireworks. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day when she had asked me to reserve a seat in the library.