Houssam Shaykh is living the dream. He is a big sought after basketball star who has his pick of teams, is recognized wherever he goes, makes millions per game, and gets to play his favorite sport for a living. He is even being called the 'Muslim Michael Jordan'. But he has a void that he can't seem to fill, no matter how many screaming fans chant his name. When he goes back home after a long season and decides to throw himself into volunteer work, will he find a shot at finding what he's seeking? Hana Ismail sees life through the lens of her camera. She loves to create memories for others to hold dear, but often wishes that she gets to experience them for herself. When she gets chosen to start a Masjid newspaper, and ends up doing a profile on none other than their very own celebrity, will she have a shot at her own happiness?

"But I'm your-" "I'm your what?!" He cut her off. She flinched at the acidity in his voice. "My wife?" He scoffed inching in on her until he was arms length. His eyes bored into the depths of her soul. He slurred the words with venom dripping from his tone. "You're only a signed contract, nothing more!" * * * "What's that shit doing on your face? you better remove it! you can't be walking on the streets of Chicago wearing that, this isn't your filthy Pakistan!" he ruthlessly spoke with disgust. "You mean my veil?" She questioned with fear placing a hand on her Niqab. "If it isn't obvious" "Please, don't call it that, it's my veil, my identity" "I'm sorry what?" "I can't remove it Saahir, p-please don't make me do this, its a part of me" she begged on the verge of tears. "I said take it off!" He yelled in a deep menacing voice and pulled it off her face throwing it mercilessly on the floor. Fresh tears pooled from her eyes Frustration built through him. He grabbed her shoulder and forcefully dragged her pushing her onto the floor. The floor hit Meeza harder than she had expected. "Oww" she yowled as the pain shot through her shoulder. Highest rank #1 IN SPIRITUAL Always in the top 15 Alhamdulillah #notyouraverageclichèbook. First published on 4th February 2018

No matter how close you are to them, there are certain things you just don't say. No matter how lonely you feel, there are certain people you just don't befriend. No matter how much you've fallen, there's always a guy you shouldn't give your heart to... Sadly for me, I learnt the last one only after I had gotten my heart broken. They say that you shouldn't look down upon anyone, or you will be put in their situation and made to experience the crisis. When I was fourteen, I had rolled my eyes at a girl who was sobbing histerically over a guy who liked her best friend. And I was probably paying the price for that now. However, I was trying my best to fit my feet in the shoes I had been given. I was trying and I was managing just fine. What I didn't need was a trouble maker who entered my life without permission. The guy who claimed to be bowled over by me, the one with a broken heart. Little did he know, I had entrusted myself to Al Malik, The Owner of me and my heart. And if he had to reach me, he had to do so by pleasing Allah. Which wasn't possible for a guy like him. Or so I thought.