Hate Me, Witch! - Chapter 142: His Face, As I Remember It

She died in her prime as the Queen of Song.

After being reincarnated, she becomes a simple trainee.

Losing her former glory? It doesn’t matter—no one can compete with her voice as a beautiful singer.

Mocked by her lowly birth? It doesn’t matter—her true identity is enough to make the whole world tremble.

She owes huge debts? It doesn’t matter…

A powerful boss once whispered to her, “Your debt will disappear if you become my woman.”

But the proud her would reply, “I’m sorry. I would sell my art, but not myself.”

[ Caution: High Heat Advisory ]“Harper, stop undressing me with your eyes. The plot isn’t going that way… YET.”Harper McKenzie, a newbie web novel author, has a problem — she struggles with romance scenes. As someone with almost nonexistent real-life experience in the matter, she can’t get the intimate chemistry right, and those chapters always come out dry and cringy.Fortunately for her, Harper finds a freelance editor willing to workshop her writing. But the surprise? That editor turns out to be her childhood friend and the very first crush of her life.What happens now when he offers her personal lessons on how to write the hottest romance … and love scenes?--------------Note: this is a fun, cozy, sweet story with a low-drama plot. No love triangles, no misunderstandings, no memory loss / car accidents / terminal illnesses / etc.. Mature content abounds, starting out soft but heats up quickly. You’ve been warned!--------------Sneak Peek:He slid her bra over her shoulders and, with impossibly quick and skilled work, tied the lacy garment around her wrists. “Spread your legs wider,” he ordered.Harper’s already faltering heartbeat faltered some more. The command in his tone was foreign, but it crashed over her like a heat wave, and even though she could barely begin to picture how salacious she must look, with her hands bound and thighs spread wide like an offering to be ravished, she could feel the scorching need coiling hotter and hotter in her core. Her body obeyed eagerly on its own accord, bringing herself fully open just like she was told.Eli grinned. Moving between her legs, he trailed hot kisses along her inner thigh, leaving sizzling little fires crackling in its wake. “Good girl. Now, what should your character say next?” A finger glided over her wet and wanting flesh in a slippery stroke, making her heart slam to a hard stop as a moan tore free. “Write the next line for me, what should I say before I unravel you with my tongue and make you scream my name?”

It is the year 2050, One of the world’s greatest assassins had fallen. Will his successor continue his legacy?

Doomsday was approaching…