Time | Books | Ink


The fireplace crackled – a scent of oak wood in the air – dipping the reading chamber in the amber of its flames, as the world darkened. The clouds outside groaned in the gathering of grey, and in a matter of minutes, the first of its countless raindrops fell. The time was now.

Books stacked in a great many variation of height stood in the centre of the chamber. Surrounding the castle of stories were five gold, crimson armchairs. And the ones found seated on those thrones, from as young as seven to as aged as seventy, called themselves Lectors.

Lectors chose to read when the warmth of fire met the cold of water, for their magic only surfaced when such opposing elements collide. With a book on their laps, they recited the words of a tale from the pages bound long ago. And at each spoken word, their magic came to life. As though they’d uttered a spell, the settled ink peeled themselves from the patchy parchments and rose into the air. They drifted in the draft-less chamber toward the tower of books. And they gathered upon the invitation of magic – magic that only came from the lips of the Lectors.

“How powerful is this magic?” you ask. “What do these gathered words do?”

They move. They create. They open.

Outside of the cages of their paperback prison, they beat to the rhythm of the soul. They bring forth the power to feel. In a world overwhelmed with shrewd emotions, deprived of the yearning breeze of solitude, these inked manifestations bring life – life that only comes from within the soul of its reader. Emotions that existed in the realm of unconsciousness, buried by one’s wakening moments, can breathe new life. These words move and stir the hardened heart to feel again.

But beyond the invisible yet tangible force, is its power to bring into being the imaginations of the mind. The stories constructed on paper, churn the bubbling cauldron, brewing a potion to escape reality. This potion feeds the mind a world not of the present. It builds a comforting environment for when the darkness grows unbearable. However, such magic is a double-edged sword and denying its strength is for the foolish.

Moving and creating are undeniably great feats of such magic. But the greatest feat of all is its ability to open doors to the universe unknown. For as the Lectors read from the spell bounding pages, the gathering words swirled into an orb of vibrant light. Piercing through the gaps of the inked alphabets, a portal within the strings of unintelligible words brought the universe to earth. But to shatter the shell of such magic was too soon. There were more to be read.

One book after another, the Lectors vocalised the tales. As the rain pattered against the tall, glass-paneled windows, the magic in motion grew. The ball of light expanded its reach across the chamber in immense power, tempting to explode with every addition. And when the last word of the last book left the lips of the youngest Lector, it finally did. The bounded magic caved within itself before ripping free from its wrappings. It released a wave of Tuscan sun, snuffing the flames in the fireplace. And as it did, the reading chamber plummeted into darkness. The cold and unwelcoming silence reigned at the end of a story, forcing the Lectors to linger in their presence until the sun arrived. Shining past the departure of the darkened clouds, light eventually returned and magic was gone.

The words once gathered in the creation of great magic rewrote themselves in the pages they called home. They would remain within their bindings until five new Lectors chose to read them again. Their magic will stay docile until their stories are unearthed once more. And when that time will arrive, no one knows.

Many Lectors have come and gone. Unfortunately, as the world orbits into the future, the heirs to this magic dwindle by the day. Despite the calling to move, create, and open, many have chose to ignore. Many have lost sight of the allure of such magic. And many have pretended ignorant to the tugging of its power. How then can this world survive without this magnificent force? How can society live without the strength, hope, and power this magic embodies?

It is upon the shoulders of the remaining Lectors to raise and pass this gift to the next generation. For magic cannot survive the evolution of men without a vessel. And if there’s one thing we all should know, is that every being homes this magic. Every being is a Lector. Every being can make time stop and breathe life into scribbles of ink. Every being can uncover this secret. Why? Because every being is called to be a reader.


Time, books, and ink, were words given by monkeyeverythingblog. Let me start by saying I’m a hypocrite. Here I am writing a story about reading, when the book by my bedside hasn’t been touched in a month. Yes, I’m ashamed of myself. So as much as this story was written to encourage others, it serves as a reminder that I should never stop reading. There is magic in books. And such magic cannot be forgotten.

Now, it’s your turn. I challenge you to use this same three words and write a piece of your own. I’ve said this one too many times, and I’ll say it again: give this a shot!

*To download the banner, left-click then right-click to save.

3 Words, 1 Story © 2016 by Jeyna Grace. All rights reserved.

(Click HERE for a list of stories in this writing challenge.)

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Posted by on October 20, 2016 in Original Works


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Chapter 71: A Clean Slate


He wasn’t ignoring anyone on purpose. He was simply too busy to entertain those he thought weren’t important. Matthias decided to return Zach’s calls once the workload lessened, but after countless went unanswered, he gave in to the ring that particular midnight.

“You picked up,” Zach said.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Don’t worry about it. I need your help with something.”

Matthias contemplated excusing himself. But he ended up feeling obligated and listened to the need instead. When Zach was done explaining, Matthias said, “Give me fifteen minutes. I’ll call you back.”

Fifteen minutes was all he needed. His company acquired insurance from the same agency and had access to their online portal. A boot of the hacking software he’d invested in a year ago would do the trick. And a minute short of fifteen, Matthias had what Zach needed.

“The case number is 763340. Call me if you need anything else,” Matthias said.

“That’s all I need. Thank you.”

With a click, Matthias had done his last deed for Jodie. There was no way he could make up for selling her out, but at least he did what he could to help. With no more rings from Zach, Matthias woke the next morning to a text from Guinevere. And when he tuned in to the morning news, another case was solved.

Neal Cortez was found alive, though unconscious, in the Wilhelm Group owned hospital. The case against Jodie was dropped, and his own case against the Lees had just been made easier. Matthias was certain he could put mama and papa Lee behind bars. Though unfortunately, there was nothing to pin Gabriel to, to lock him up along with his parents. The sly youth would take over what is left of the company, and if he were wise enough to save it in the midst of hostile shareholders, he’d rule the new empire. But Matthias couldn’t be bothered with what happened after. He wanted to move on. If anything, he’d made a good impression with the press in his fight for Guinevere and Wayne’s freedom. That was enough for him to leave his old company, and perhaps leave the country altogether.

A month after the settlement of Guinevere’s case, Matthias handed in his resignation. He then paid Zach his last paycheque, and put in a good word for him with an old college friend. He also signed a blank cheque for his sister to hand to his parents on one of her visits home. No, he still found no reason to reconcile with them. And being unable to sever ties, his only option was to get away. Perhaps one day, in the future, there would be a story to tell about his dark past. But for now, it would remain untold.

As Matthias’ life began to quiet down, he finally resolved on leaving the country. With multiple job offers, he started his search for the soonest flight out of town. But the day he decided to book his ticket, he received an odd proposition for him to stay. Richard had called for brunch, and after what they’d been through, Matthias agreed to the free meal.

“So, what do you say?” Richard asked.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“We’ll make a great team.”

“I kind of doubt that.”

Richard laughed. “We’ve changed, both you and I,” he added.

“I’m still the same. You, maybe.”

“Ah, yes. I had a lot of growing up to do. And I think, now that I’ve matured-”

“You over credit yourself, Richard.”

Now that I’ve matured, starting fresh would do us both good. I’ve gotten talented people on board. And with the world, just waiting to see what I’m about to do next, it’ll-”

“You’ve matured all right.” Matthias chuckled.

“Thank you for acknowledging that. The point is, my brand will sell. So are you in or out?”

“Let me think about it.”

“Take all the time you need, Matty.”

Joining Richard’s company was a shift in the direction Matthias initially aimed for. The creative industry wasn’t his ideal career path. But the change might be for the better. After all, the politics wouldn’t involve as much manipulation, blackmailing, or framing, as in the business world. He wouldn’t cross paths with familiar faces, who could use his past against him too. Perhaps Richard was right. Perhaps he had changed after all, seeing as he was done with dirty work. Replaying the accounts of when he betrayed people for the benefit of his past company, he inevitably reminded himself of Jodie.

Matthias had not spoken to Jodie since his last assist. She seemed to be doing well on her own, as the world moved past the claims of murder. If Matthias were to stay, he could hope they’d bump into each other and he could make amends. Despite living in a large city, the five had brushed shoulders one too many times. And seeing Jodie on the streets wouldn’t be a first. However, if he left the country as he initially planned, there would be little chances of admitting what he did. And seeing as he’d wanted a clean slate, telling Jodie the truth was a great start. Still, it all boiled down to his decision to stay or leave. Should he remain in the city to start over, or should he leave to a new place for a new beginning? Matthias had to choose.

Next Chapter >
(For the chapter list, visit here.)


The Clubhouse © 2014 – 2016 by Jeyna Grace.
All rights reserved. No part of the series may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission from Jeyna

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Posted by on October 13, 2016 in Original Works


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Be A Protector


‘Protector: a person in charge of the kingdom during the sovereign’s minority, incapacity, or absence.’ – English history.

I’ve thought about this. I’ve thought about this long and hard. And I’ve decided.

Now, I’m not loaded. I don’t have an overflowing bank account. But after seeing your generosity in supporting my dream, I’m inspired to pay it forward. You showed me what it means to give selflessly, and I want to do the same thing too.

No, this isn’t about a giveaway. Though, there are a couple more to come this month and they’ll be announced on Facebook.

So, what am I talking about? I’m talking about… slavery. I’m no expert on this issue, but I’m aware of its existence. I’m aware that it has ruined lives. And if there’s one cause I want to stand by, it is this: the fight against modern day slavery

There are approximately 36 million slaves in the world today. 50% are minors. And if you have $90, you can actually buy yourself one. This makes me angry. Children have been robbed of their childhood. People have been robbed of their rights. Families are torn apart. And for these individuals, living is meaningless.

I know… I am no Thom. I’m not a prince with a calling to save his people. I don’t have a magical aid. But I want to do something if I can. Hence, I’ve decided to give RM2 for every reader that pre-orders The Slave Prince to Change Your World.

Change Your World is a movement I’ve believed in for many years. Based in Malaysia, it exists to create opportunities and platforms for the young generation to ‘Save Lives’ through their creativity. This is as creative as I can get – telling stories. And if I can use my stories to stand for justice, then I should do it.

So, if you’d like to fight alongside me in this cause, pre-order a copy of The Slave Prince. I can only match two ringgit to a reader. But if you think it’s too little, forget ordering my book, reach out to Change Your World and support them. Saving lives is far more important.

For all those who’ve been eyeing the Geek & Sundry contest, there’s a month left. If you’d love to see my book hit the bookstores, please grab a copy at your earliest convenience. It only takes 5 minutes to help this dreamer – only 5 minutes to change a life. And if you stand by me, winning a publishing deal would be a walk in the park.

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Posted by on October 6, 2016 in Others


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Chapter 70: No Coincidences


“Are you sure it’s here?” Zach asked.

“That’s what Richard said.”

It was close to 1a.m – the city quieting after its bustling day. At the wheel of Richard’s car, Zach accelerated toward the lowest basement carpark. He thought it strange the access to the eleventh floor was in such a remote location. But he’d experience enough to not rule out the possibility either.

Once parked in a random lot amidst a handful of cars, Zach exited and strolled over to the passenger seat. With blinking cameras watching their every move, the acting began. Zach ushered Jodie out of the car, before looking for the grey elevator. Richard said it was at the right corner of the floor, almost obscure. But there was no need to look for it, as it would open on its own. And, he was right.

Just as Zach glanced past the foyer of the main elevators, a wall parted at the far corner. Orange light streamed into the basement, and he pointed to it. “Over there.”

Jodie spotted it too and took the lead. In a long cloak and big, round shades, Jodie was unrecognizable. Contrary, Zach wasn’t in such a thick disguise. And perhaps that was why she needed his help – no one would do a double take even in his minimum makeover.

As they entered the elevator, the doors shut on their own. There were no buttons, not even an open or close, but there was a camera. Once the elevator began its ascent, it only took a few seconds to reach its designated floor. And when the doors reopened, a nurse strode over to greet them.

“Welcome. Kindly follow me for registration,” the nurse said.

“I don’t want to register,” Jodie replied.

“Rest assured, we only need a few details of which we will not store after your visitation.” The nurse smiled as she gestured at the main counter.

The eleventh floor lobby was alike a 5-star hotel. One wouldn’t be called naïve for thinking otherwise. A crystal chandelier hung above the waiting area, the floor glistened from daily polishing, nurses attended to every guest with tablets, and a bar stood offering free drinks.

As Jodie began to fill the simple form, Zach thought through their plan. Richard had handed him a pendrive capable of stealing information off a nurse’s tablet. All Zach needed to do was pluck it into an unattended device and the records of patients staying on the eleventh floor would be theirs. Being that all the names would be aliases, they’d have to look for the one that described Neal’s condition the most. Once they found the correct room, they must forward the information to Richard for him to send it to the detective. But before all that, they needed a distraction.

“Where’s the washroom?” Jodie asked, after submitting the paperwork.

“This way,” the nurse said.

The pair followed the nurse, turning down a corner from the foyer toward the washrooms. They weren’t far from the midnight crowd, but the distance would buy them enough time. Crossing gazes, they executed Plan A: a fake faint.

Jodie collapsed to the floor and began mumbling about feeling light-headed. The nurse propped Jodie against the wall, placed her tablet down, and pulled out a mini torchlight.

“Can you follow the light for me?” the nurse asked.

“Light?” Jodie questioned in convincing bewilderment.

Crouching beside them, Zach swiftly slid the tablet to his side. Then as discreetly as possibly, he plugged the pendrive and waited. It was the longest wait in the shortest amount of time. When Jodie pretended to lose consciousness, the nurse told Zach to stay while she went to get help. With the tablet out of the nurse’s sight, she forgot to take it with her. A minute later, the nurse returned with a gurney and a few others. Zach instantly unplugged the pendrive and stood out of their way. It was now up to him to decipher the records.

As Jodie was wheeled away, Zach excused himself to the washroom. Safely inside a cubicle, he transferred the data to his phone and began scanning through them. Both Zach and Jodie knew nothing about Neal’s condition. Aside from the fact Neal was supposedly brain dead, there were no other information to help him with his search. The records had more than one comatose patient, and thinking of the number of rooms he had to search without getting caught was perturbing.

“Why did I agree to this?” Zach muttered under his breath. “We could have all met at the school first to talk things out.”

In the midst of ‘what if’s, Zach spotted a similarity between the patient files: all the patients liaised with the same insurance company – Guinevere’s father’s company. Was that a coincidence? No, there were no coincidences in regards to Wilhelm Group. But, there was hope.

Zach could get Guinevere to check the company files to see which belonged to Neal Cortez. However, they were pressed for time. If Guinevere wasn’t home, the trip back together with the search time, would take too long. So the only other option was Matthias. Matthias was good with a keyboard, and if he knew what to look for, he could obtain the information quicker than Guinevere. Even though neither of them would answer his call, Zach had to try. But before he did, he needed to choose.

Next Chapter >
(For the chapter list, visit here.)


The Clubhouse © 2014 – 2016 by Jeyna Grace.
All rights reserved. No part of the series may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission from Jeyna

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Posted by on September 29, 2016 in Original Works


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Window | Pillow | Chocolate


It has been three years. Three years since we boarded the plane together. Three years since we fought over the window seat. Three years since we flipped a coin, just to see who should ask the air steward for an extra pillow. Three years since he proposed with a box of chocolate. And three years since we said goodbye.

As I curled up in the stiff economy class seat, I wondered what life would’ve been if he didn’t walk away. Would we be living in the cozy apartment we imagined? Would we have named our first child after his favourite actress? Would we be flying to Peru, right at this moment, for our great Machu Picchu adventure? Would we still be in love? If we didn’t say those words, would we still be together?

I can still recall the night of our tiff. It was a pleasant night. The day was filled with gentle showers, setting dusk in a cool breeze, fresh with the scent of rain in the air. It was the perfect night to cuddle with a hot cup of cocoa, as we shared the stories from our uneventful day. But that didn’t happen. We would still be together, if it actually did.

“So you’re coming to my mum’s birthday party, right?” I asked.

“Sorry love, I can’t make it this weekend. I’ve got work.”

“It’s the weekend. Why are you always working on the weekend?”

“Trust me, I don’t want to. It’s the boss. You know how he’s like.”

“You should quit.”

He turned to me, eyes wide with surprise. Then he chuckled.

“I’m serious,” I added.

“I can’t just quit. The wedding needs money.”

“You’re not the only one working.”

“But I want to be. I want to give you the best wedding ever.”

Resting his hands on my shoulders, he gave a gentle squeeze as he flashed his famous childish grin. I smiled. How could I not?

“Fine. But you still have to attend my mum’s party. She’s turning sixty,” I said.

“Only sixty. She’s still young.”

“You know how some of the older people are. Sixty is a big deal. And if I go without you, she’ll ask an unbearable amount of questions.”

“I can’t go. I really can’t.”

“Just tell your boss-”

“I can’t,” he interrupted.

Why did he interrupt? If he hadn’t done so, I might have given in. I might have let him skip the party. I might have held my tongue.

“Why are you so straight with your decisions?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why can’t you try to work things around? Saying you can’t when you’ve not tried-”

“How do you know I’ve not tried?”

“I know because I know you. And I know, for sure, you didn’t ask your boss if you could have the weekend off.”

“Are we seriously arguing about this right now? I’m tired. Let’s talk about it tomorrow, alright?”

“It’s always tomorrow with you.”

“Yes, because I don’t want to say something I’d regret. So let’s talk tomorrow.”

He gave me a quick peck on the forehead before stalking toward the door. Here’s my regret. I didn’t let him go. I made him stay at a time he needed to leave the most. I went after him, reached for his wrist, and pulled him back.

“No, let’s talk about this now. We will forget about this tomorrow-”

“And maybe that’s a good idea.”

“How is that a good idea? We’re getting married. This is something we need to discuss. How do you expect me to live with a man who will be absent every weekend?”

“It’s only this weekend. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?”

“It’s always ‘only this weekend’ with you. Fine. Go then. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Like a child, I folded my arms and glared. And for that brief moment, I had hope. I was expectant. I thought he would stay and ask for forgiveness. That he would choose to work things out, instead of leaving. But I guess, he really was tired. And without another word, he walked out the front door never to return.

I have cried enough over what happened three years ago – stifling tears in the shower and hyperventilating by the sidewalks. But nothing I did brought him back. What could tears do to bring the dead to life? Was there a potion for resurrection? Would true love’s kiss work? When I became too tired to feel anymore, I forced myself to move on. I forced myself to disassociate the past from my present. Though unfortunately, the memories live on. I can recount every part of it as if it were a movie I’d watch one too many times. But even if I don’t tear up, it leaves a bitter aftertaste of regret.

As the air steward walked past with a pillow in hand, as the child clumsily unwrapped his chocolate bar, as I gazed at the cumuliform clouds, I wondered once more what life would have been. And then I concluded before the seatbelt sign blinked red: life would’ve been great. We would’ve been happy. We would’ve created wonderful memories. But life, unfortunately, goes on. And if I were to ever find love again, so should I.


Window, pillow, and chocolate were words given by kara562. Firstly, let me apologise for writing this rather depressing piece. You see, I’ve been watching too many sad dramas recently that they’ve had an affect on me. So, when I saw those three words, the two things that came to mind were aeroplane and regret. I don’t why. Hence, this story. I do hope it was an engaging tale though.

Now, it’s your turn. I challenge you to use this same three words and write a piece of your own. It’s fun. You don’t have to try so hard. And oh, it makes a great writing practice.

*To download the banner, left-click then right-click to save.

3 Words, 1 Story © 2016 by Jeyna Grace. All rights reserved.

(Click HERE for a list of stories in this writing challenge.)


Posted by on September 22, 2016 in Original Works


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Chapter 69: Plus One


Jodie held the memory card tight in a fist, as she tapped the up arrow of the hotel lift. She was nervous – more nervous than she needed to be. The atmosphere was unsettling and the air stifling in the marble-themed lobby. Staring straight at the silver doors, Jodie tried her best to ignore the hawking reporters. They’d seen her exchange with the receptionist. And they’d begun murmuring when the receptionist made a call. Fortunately, the hotel guards were diligent that night.

When the lift finally arrived, Jodie slipped in and jabbed furiously at the close button, avoiding the reporters’ gaze. It seems Richard had caused quite a stir. It wasn’t Guinevere or the Lees’ corruption they were after, it was the story behind Richard’s birth – society needed to get its priorities straight.

Upon the arrival ding of the thirtieth floor, Jodie heaved a sigh and turned right to suite #337. A second before her knuckles hit the wooden room door, it swung open.

“Were there a lot of-”

“Yes. Can I come in?” Jodie interrupted.

Richard gestured for her to enter, as he said, “It’s nice to see people care.”

“Oh yea, the youth of this country loves you.”

“Well, that’s no surprise. Have you seen me?”

Richard chuckled, but stopped himself abruptly when Jodie didn’t follow suit.

“I’ve seen you,” Jodie stated.

“Sorry. What do you need me to pass to the detectives?”

There was no hesitation when Jodie handed Richard the memory card.

“What’s in this?” Richard asked.

“Information about Neal’s whereabouts.”


“It started with you, didn’t it?”

“Is that a ‘thank you’?”

“I guess.”

Jodie couldn’t blame Richard for keeping quiet. After all, his family was involved. And if it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t have discovered Neal being alive either. Though, if she wanted to be precise, Neal was merely existing. There was nothing lifelike being in a coma.

“You’re welcome. I’ll call a detective over. Would you like to stick around?”

“No. I’m afraid if I do, Neal would be gone.”

“What do you mean?”

From the recording, Jodie learned Neal was at the Wilhelm Group-owned hospital, kept under tight surveillance on the eleventh floor. The eleventh floor was a VIP floor for the famous, rich, and royal. Those who visited the floor could come and go without leaving any record of their visit. And after the news about the Lees, the Cortezs might decide to pull Neal out. Neal could disappear like the many others, as though he’d been dead for years.

“You won’t have access to the eleventh floor,” Richard stated. “They won’t give you access.”


“You’re not high up enough. Sorry.”

Who was she kidding? Presidents were rumoured to visit the eleventh floor. Jodie grunted, realising she’d overlook that fact. The stress had officially gone to her head.

“But I have an idea. You can’t go alone though,” Richard added. “I can arrange for you to check in with a few fake claims.”

“Does the hospital even know who you are? No offense.”

“Yes. I’m high up enough. I’ve been there a few times.”


“Well, more than a few times. I’ve always wondered why the staff were always so nice to me. I guess it kind of makes sense now. They probably thought I’d be their new boss.”

“But the news is out. You’re not their new boss. You’re not even related to their new boss.”

“Yes, but I can still pull some strings. Pay some people off. Money makes the world go round, Jodie. I thought you knew that.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“So, you up for the plan?”

“You have the money?”

“Plenty. The Lees thought they could pay me for my silence. Hah!”

“Then yes, I’m for the plan. And… thank you.”

“Anytime,” Richard said with a smirk. But just as he reached for his phone, he turned and asked, “Who’s going with you?”


“Who’s going with you? I’m going to tell them you’re my famous friend who doesn’t want any publicity on your secret illness. And if you’re famous, you can’t go alone. You need at least somebody to go with you.”

What Richard said made sense. She was going to put on a show, and all shows worked better with dialogue. Unfortunately, Jodie didn’t know anyone that could help her pull off the stunt. She didn’t want to involve anyone personal, and her options were limited if not none.

“How about Zach?” Richard suggested.

“Are you serious?”

“I don’t know about his acting skills, but his face isn’t all over the media. For the most part, he’s a nobody.”


“He’ll do anything for you. I thought that was obvious.”

Jodie narrowed her eyes and Richard laughed.

“You didn’t know?” Richard asked, eyes wide in fake surprise.

Jodie knew – she’d picked up on the hints. But as far as she was concerned, it wasn’t something worth responding to.

“So is he going to be your plus one or not? The clock is ticking. Neal might be gone forever.”

Neal might’ve been gone already, but she wasn’t going to assume the worst. Jodie needed to make sure he was there. She needed to keep him there, at least until the detectives arrive. Still, she didn’t like the thought of using Zach even if she knew he’d help. Jodie had to choose.

Next Chapter >
(For the chapter list, visit here.)


The Clubhouse © 2014 – 2016 by Jeyna Grace.
All rights reserved. No part of the series may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission from Jeyna Grace.

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Posted by on September 15, 2016 in Original Works


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Taking A (Mental) Break + Giveaway Teaser


I rarely skip a post unless I’m on holiday. Today, however, is going to be one of those days where I skip a post because I want to. And… I sincerely apologise for the lack of a fictional escape this week.

Honestly, I’m low on creativity at this moment. The newest chapter for The Clubhouse is supposed to be out today, but I haven’t even written it yet. Why? Because I don’t know what to write. This sometimes happens, and I’ve managed to push through it before, but not this week. I’ve not gotten enough rest for the past few days and I’m just tired all the time. To try and squeeze a story out of me would result in horrible writing. So if you’re following The Clubhouse and looking forward to the next chapter, please forgive me. You’ll have to wait until next week.

Since I’m being honest, I might as well say that the past month has been very mentally draining for me. As you might have read, I’ve been campaigning heavily for The Slave Prince. This is my chance to get another book on bookshelves, and I’m really going for it! But with the recent emergence of a new book in the competition, that left me in the dust, I was forced to up my game.

HERE is the current standings of the contest, if you’re curious. The Slave Prince has had to fight to stay in the Top 3 since Sparked came into the picture. Sparked shot straight to #1 in less than a day and you have no idea how intimidating that is. I quickly learned how small I am, compared to authors with such huge influence. So in my attempts to face this giant, I’ve been networking like crazy. And thankfully, through my approaches, I’ve managed to get the support of 4 creative people. These people are willing to give out their creative works to those who pre-order The Slave Prince!


Tomorrow’s Giveaway!

I won’t be able to update you on all the giveaways on this blog, as I don’t want my blog posts to spam you daily. But if you follow me on Facebook, Twitter, or the book page itself, you’ll see what’s going to be raffled. There will be novels to give away, cash vouchers, video games, and even an album. No kidding. The sooner you pre-order The Slave Prince, the higher your chances are at taking home something extra – and believe me when I say, everybody will win at least one giveaway. For tomorrow itself, I’ll be announcing a novel giveaway. It’s not my own, but a fellow Inkshares author’s book. More details will be on social media.

Well… that’s all for today’s post. Please accept my apologies and please pre-order a copy of The Slave Prince. Hopefully, when I see you next time, I’ll have something substantial to offer. But until then, have a great week!

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Posted by on September 8, 2016 in Others


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