Every religion has it's paradise, some believe in heaven, some in hell, some in the limbo. However, there is a place above designed for those who created life. For those who designed universes and for those who aimed to create fantasies. This world was called the System arc of Writhers or SAW. Just as regular life, those selected few would be granted the chance to compete in a ranking system. Those who achieve class SS once they end their journey would be granted the real paradise, as they have payed for their sins. When alive Piper was a renown author. She died young, beautiful and alone. Living with the principle of no Mary Sue's, no Marty Stues and no convenient romance, she achieved greatness and popularity with each published book she launched. However, the universe likes to play with people, her mission, give a good plot to bad stories. As who? The one she most despised.

Ever since she was young she dreamed in becoming a singer, one that could express her feelings through music. Fast forward, with her 35 years of age, Luna sees herself at the end of her career, with no friends, no family and lost inside herself. All because of that man, and the stupid contract. Married to a man who didn't love her back, singing meaningless songs for a living, with all the stress of an ending career and realizing she spent her miserable life trying to be someone else. She decides it's time for her to move on. Staring at the sky she steps forward, her body falling towards the concrete meanwhile her soul returns to her 24 year old naive self. And, in this lifetime, she promises never to let herself be stepped at by any stupid man.

"Our women cannot be wooed." Warned the King. "They have not met my men." The Sovereign replied. In Rowland, a kingdom void of love, where even a kiss is unheard of, Illyria is the prim and proper niece of the King, and his unofficial body guard. This princess has never been sated with her position, and has done everything in her power to climb the political ladder to reach the power and prestige she craves, the position of General over the kings army. On the eve of a marriage arranged to help her climb, a mysterious foreign ruler intrudes the castle walls, a masked leader known only as "The Sovereign." King Hal of Rowland takes this invasion to be a declaration of war, but instead the Sovereign is there to make him an offer he can't refuse. Meridian, the suave, lighthearted General of the Sovereign's army was just an adolescent when the plague that killed his Kindoms female population; including half his family, struck Morwick. Can he, his twin brother, cousin and the other young men who have mastered seduction and romance to an art form even turn the heads of icy, detached ladies who have never even heard of it? If they fail, war will soon follow. In this medieval Hunger Games, What happens when politics meet passion? 100 of Morwick's men must face off against 100 of Rowland's women during "Bedding Camp". Though the Morwick's weapon of choice is not what Illyria is expecting. Ranked #1 in Historical Fiction as of June 23 2017 *Complete book available on Amazon* (Link in my bio)

Would you like to play a game? The rules are simple... you just have to get someone to fall in love you, devote himself to you, and care for you until the end of his days. Think it's easy? Confident you'll win? Let's see how well you play the game. WARNING! Viewer discretion advised: story contains adult content that is unsuitable for children. NOTE from the writer: I'm an amateur writer so please overlook plot holes, grammar issues, or anything else a story is supposed to have. This is my original story so... as the saying goes "if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all".

As the selection of brides arrived, the city was excited. It was well known that Mongolia was famous for their three great beauties, and their young emperor had the privilege to choose one first hand as his wife. But little did they know that their beauties would turn out to be very handsome. Muscular, short and tan, very handsome women. And just as the emperor couldn't be more displeased there she was, standing right behind their figure like a goddess mirage. Long dark hair that shinned as if it was made of silk, bright clear eyes that gleamed like gems, a face that could cause the downfall of a country and an air as noble as the emperor itself. The image contrasting the simple white attires and the lack of decorations surrounding her body as if she was attending a funeral. There she was, Oyuunchimeg, the great general and strategist of the Mongolian army, third princess of the Mongolian royal family, and best known as the ugly on the mongols.