Duck Pic Novels & Stories

Maxine A. K. A Max John's is a senior at St John's. She doesn't believe in love nor in mysteries or fate. Her spiritual being feels threatened. For some reason she sometimes dreams about a mystical girl she has never met. She is abused at home, she fights for survival and dignity, but is oblivious of who she really is and where she comes from, or what she'll become. Her existence was declined eon years ago. What if she has a bigger purpose....what if her past caught up with her long ago but never realized it? Until….. Maya is a known kindergarten teacher, she has to start teaching at St Johns. She is a princess in a land oblivious to mankind. Her people are escapees of descendants of a world one can wish to be part of. A city where no man lives. She was chosen to lead her people but doesn't want to. She runs away to live amongst humans. She always wanted to be free and choose her own life, and lover. She dreams about a young girl. She never questioned why? Until...... All calls they return to their homes, humanity is at stake, and they are the only ones to fight who was coming, what had been going on eons ago? What will they do? Duck, or dive?

Lucy Cheng aka Lilith Yama, saved Williams stallion 3 years ago, that, which led her to becoming a secret agent of the specials agency ( an agency for people with abilities) 3 years later they meet again in which she doesn't recongnise him and she is on a mission to find out the cause of the strange deaths happening all over the world and those behind it. Williams, who had been searching frantically for her for the past 3 years, hides his true identity in order to get close to her. She is a demon, he is a.... I dunno, a human I guess She is the princess of hell, he is the CEO of E. C ,one of the top ranking companies in the world. She is a secret agent, he is the best student of the forensic department of Netherland university She is cold hearted,narcissistic, ruthless and bloodthirsty and he is cunning, cruel, deceptive and psychopathic She is a sweet but crazy lover, he is a possesive yandere who pretends to be a cute cinnamon roll They are truly a perfect match made in... Hell? Warning: This isn't your normal lovey dovey romance. Remember this is a work of FICTION there are some things that are bound to be unrealistic. There are some places or information in here that are not so in real life however I'll try to make it realistic as possible Disclaimer: the book cover pic is gotten from Google. Also their is a bit of gore.

I ditched a shot at studying abroad to help my boyfriend, Gavin Censori, launch his startup. Stuck it out with him through seven brutal years. Then boom—success hit, and so did the ghosting. On Valentine's Day, he hit me with the classic "work's crazy" excuse. Instead of showing up, he had some random delivery dude drop off a box of cosmetic samples. Samples. Later that night, his secretary Rebecca popped up on my feed, flexing hard. Caption: [With a boss like this, why go home early?] Pic: A box of high-end makeup. Same brand. Hers weren't samples. I dropped a comment: [You're doing great at your sidechick job. Gold star.] Gavin called instantly, losing it. "What's your problem? She's just an employee! I bust my ass making money for you, and you're always jealous!" I laughed. Didn't even yell. Just dumped him. Seven years, and I'd never touched a dime of his. Joke's on him—his precious startup? Secretly bankrolled by me. Fast-forward three years. Business summit. He rolled in wearing a tailored suit. The second he spotted me with a bag of bottles, his smirk kicked in. "Didn't like those cosmetics I gave you, huh? Now look at you—reduced to bottle collecting?"

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.