Title: Scumbag Billionaire

Author: Harper Kingsley

Story Landing Page: https://kimichee.com/novel-scumbag-billionaire

It was hot. That’s the first thing Ames realized. The horrible, all-encompassing heat.

Then he recognized the slapping sloshing sound around him: water.

He tried to groan, but his throat hurt too much. When he weakly shifted he lost his balance and slipped off the board he hadn’t realized he was resting on.

He splashed into the water. Gasped. Panicked. Swallowed a mouthful of salty ocean water. Began to drown.

Lights flashed behind his eyes. Or maybe it was the darkness cutting away the light.

He weakly tried to kick his legs, but his body was too exhausted by sunstroke.

He passed out.

And found himself in memory. Back in the hospital where he had so recently died after saying his final farewells to his tearful family and friends.

Everything had had a haziness to it from the painkillers. It had reached the point where there were no longer limits to the amount he was given. He’d held the button in his hand and could control things for himself, a little bit or a lot. It didn’t matter because he was going to die anyway.

He’d pushed the button enough to take the edge off the grinding agony. But he’d held off enough that he could coherently say his goodbyes.

It had hurt to see his mother sobbing against his father’s shoulder. Neither one of them had thought he would die first. Barely 29 years old, but so ravaged by cancer that there was barely anything left of him.

Ames had managed to smile at them. Had spent his last precious moments offering them comfort rather than focusing on the fact that he was really dying.

Some bit of him had felt resentment, but he hadn’t allowed it to show. … Read the rest “NOVEL: Scumbag Billionaire 002”

Title: Scumbag Billionaire

Author: Harper Kingsley

Story Landing Page: https://kimichee.com/novel-scumbag-billionaire

CHAPTER ONE

There’s so much water.

It’s everywhere.

Salty and terrible.

Almost worst than the blazing heat of the sun. The light so bright and encompassing. Burning away his skin one reddened layer at a time until he wondered when he would be left as nothing more than bones.

Floating forever on the ocean. Or withered down and swallowed by the waves.

His mouth was so dry. Surrounded on all sides by water, but so thirsty his lips stuck to his teeth and his tongue felt too big for his mouth.

He was dying. He knew it and couldn’t stop it.

His death was an inevitability at this point. So far from the shore that land was nothing more than a half-remembered dream to his sun burned mind.

This was the end of him.

These were the last moments of his life.

And thinking back… he felt regret for all the time he’d wasted. Enjoying his moments but not treasuring his hours. This was all he had left.

Floating far from shore. So thirsty he couldn’t feel hungry. So hot that all he knew was burning misery.

These were his lasts moments.

Floating lost. Hopeless. Knowing he wasn’t going to be found.

TBC…

6. After being let out of the hospital, a tabloid journalist fell in love with a princess.

Love was nothing Whitney had ever thought about.

She wasn’t beautiful, smart, or funny. She was tenacious, but considering the reaction that usually got her, she didn’t think it was necessarily to her benefit.

Her prettiest feature was her hair. It naturally tousled itself into looping curls and was a soft brown that urged hands to touch. At least, people were always touching it or asking to touch it.

Sometimes it was awkward. Sometimes it was weird.

With Flora, it was wonderful.

Princess Floriana Della Bonadeci, second daughter of Crown Prince Darius Mekiah Bonadeci of the small kingdom of Kharvis. Beautiful, gentle, and for some reason interested in Whitney.

And while the commonsense thing would have been to reject the princess’ attentions, for once Whitney refused to be sensible.

She wanted the whirlwind romance. The sweet kisses that would eventually have to lead to a bittersweet goodbye.

Because Flora was as high above her as the birds sweeping through the sky, wings widespread, impossible to hold in place. Because a bird needed to fly.

And Flora, beautiful Flora, was as tied to her homeland as those birds were tied to the air above. Someday she would have to go home. And Whitney would have to stay behind.

Because Whitney was a journalist for a trashy tabloid that nobody respected. Because it had only been chance that let the two of them meet–their arms brushing as they both tried to use the same hospital vending machine–and chance was what would part them.

Because Flora’s father was going to be a king. Someday soon from the way she spoke of her grandfather. And when that happened, Flora would be propelled into the public eye, and

… Read the rest “6. After being let out of the hospital, a tabloid journalist fell in love with a princess. #HarperWCK”

So, I’m working on my project now. This is one of the prompts and prompt-fills that I’ve got so far.

52. After being seduced by a demon, a telepath ordered a birthday cake.

Being a telepath meant having a clear sense of self.

The breaks in his mind were clear. The fractures and replacement of things he hadn’t otherwise noticed the loss of were glaring in their obviousness.

The demon had woven itself throughout his mind.

It choked the idea of telling anyone out of his mind before he could speak the words.

He suffered in pleasure. Experienced physical and metaphysical pleasures the like of which he’d never imagined.

7 months later, on his mother’s birthday, he went to pick up the cake he’d ordered the week before.

The demon had metaphorically hung over his shoulder while he spoke on the phone, but he’d been relieved it hadn’t made him change the order. It seemed like proof that his theory was right: the demon couldn’t hear his thoughts. It only controlled his physical actions (his physical being).

While it had kept him from telling anyone about its presence either vocally or telepathically, it had been through physical means.

It knew his first impulse would be to tell someone of its presence. So it flooded his body with hormones. Locked his bones in place. Froze his vocal cords. All through physical puppetry of his body.

His mind was his own, when he could get it to work. The haze of hormonal pleasure made it very hard to concentrate. To even want to concentrate.

But there were some things too important to be ignored.

He was glad that his brother was there to meet him at the bakery. Joseph had walked from work and had his uniform polo slung over his shoulder. … Read the rest “Prompt 52: After being seduced by a demon, a telepath ordered a birthday cake #HarperWCK”

Through a window darkly gazing
At a sight afraid to see
Breathing deep the salted water
Dreaming dreams, of you and me.