.png)
Here you'll find a collection of fiction samples to give you a taste of Mariaan's writing style. Feel free to reach out and inquire about her previous ghostwritten novels. She has written books across various genres: romance, thriller, fantasy, children's books and Non-fiction.
The stories she enjoys writing are packed with fantasy, action, romance, hope, and, most importantly, love. As a passionate writer with a background in Anthropology, Psychology, and Philosophy, she is devoted to exploring the intricacies of human nature and existence.
Great stories transport you to new worlds, allowing you to escape reality and experience adventures you might never encounter otherwise.
Asta’s mind began to drift, and as hard as she tried to concentrate on Aacaith’s words, she could not stop the memories from flooding her. Instantly she was back in a dream state; she knew this nightmare all too well. Imagery appeared as if it was happening right then and there, and somehow, she felt more awake in this memory than ever before in her dreams. There she was, around the age of three, maybe four, laughing in wonder and amusement. She was with her brother as he swung her up into the air and back, using the air around her to control how her swing moves. Her mother and father are seated away from them, enjoying the sun. She zoomed in on her father’s face and saw him so clearly; she could almost feel his loving touch as they locked eyes. She could hear her mother humming a melody, soothing her twin sister while she drifted into slumber in the cradle beside them. The sun was shining, and the birds were chirping, and for that moment, life seemed perfect. Suddenly she heard a loud bang; Asta had to cover her ears. Even as a young Asta, she was already very sensitive to sound and could feel the density in the air instantly change. She was midair strapped to the swing when she saw her brother fall to the ground, and by the look of his deformed body, the impact from the invisible force was fatal. Her mother jumped up, but just before she could reach her sister from the cradle, a horrible sound filled the air again. Her mother fell to her knees, and dark figures formed a circle around her. Asta saw so much movement she could not make sense of, fury and might, dark figures and bursts of light. Her father was before her now, unbuckling her from the swing. He took her in his arms and launched towards their house. “Asta, you need to be strong for Papa, ok. Do what we practiced for when the monsters come, and under no circumstances do you turn around. Ok. I love you so much, and I will come and get you soon as I can.” Frantically she tried to hold on to the grasp of her father’s arms, not wanting to let go, but he was gone in an instant. Young Asta hesitated but trusted the words of her father. She did not want to go; she did not want to be alone. She could barely walk but was determined to do as her father instructed. She ran as fast as her feet could carry her, tumbling around at times. She escaped down the hallway and into a room with books. This was the room her father brought them when it was story time. He would tell them stories of monsters with sharp teeth and slimy feet. He would sometimes even play the part, and then she and her siblings had to hide in the safety chamber. She knew that this was what her father meant. She struggled to find the hidden door because her brother was always around to take the lead. She had to find the three markings on the wooden floor and finally found them by crawling around the room, using her hands to help her feel for knobs on the floor. Hesitantly she pushed down on the knob that looked nothing more than a screw in the floor. A door flopped open, and Asta climbed inside; she pulled the door closed using all her strength. Exhausted and scared, Asta crawled into the corner, tightly hugging her knees and covering her face. It was dark and cold, and she was afraid to make any sound; she wished her mother was there to shelter her. With tears rolling down her cheeks and fear clawing at her insides, young Asta found the strength to start singing the song of protection, as her mother called it. She imagined her mother holding her tight, and she could almost hear her mother’s hum and her siblings singing along. Instantly, Asta woke from what felt like a never-ending nightmare. She was sitting on the floor with Aacaith’s arms around her. Tears rolled down her face, and panic rose in her chest, so wild and unmanageable she felt like sound was about to burst right out of her.
A Journey Within
Romance, Young Adult, Fantasy
When I was younger, I always liked to go as far down in the swimming pool as possible, daring my untrained lungs to their limits, floating, slowly fading as gravity pulled. As I lay motionless, I lifted my gaze, trying to make sense of the illuminated dream of sun rays dancing on top of the water. It blinded me, not in the 'I can't see way' but more in the 'Unexpected, Lost in pure beauty way.' That's what I saw when our eyes met for the first time. His eyes were pale blue water, and I swear I saw the sun ray dancing. I could not stop the smile forming on my face as a sense of wonder built at the bottom of my stomach. It made me happy to see the sun ray dance; I did not care if I ever saw it again. At that moment, to be in the presence of pure beauty was enough. I went on with the doings of being a dateless guest at a wedding. Was I only invited because my cousin felt obligated to do so? Fortunately, I did not dwell on that thought; alcohol mixed with music and this unexpected sense of wonder building up in me was all the excitement I needed to have a good time. My sister approaches me and unfortunately, I have nowhere to hide. She annoys me a lot sometimes, more than I dare to admit, especially to myself. She has a baby and a husband, and according to her Ph.D. in psychology, her life is all figured out. I remind myself constantly to keep looking at her bright side. All things in life have it, something beautifully rare and deserving of love. She calls me over to drag me to this 'so-called' fantastic artist who draws portraits at the wedding. "HA!" That was my first reaction. How corny could one be? "You will remember my wedding because I exploited some talented artist and bought his soul for a night." Sheepishly and bored, I followed her to where a group of people were waiting in line. We were allowed to cut in at the front because everyone fussed about little James. Babies are the most powerful creatures in the world, I swear. Their manipulating tendencies are perfected from the first unsettling sound escaping their mouths. My sister's little creature of love itself… As we took our seats, my surroundings blurred into insignificance. My mind shifted to autopilot. This often happens when I find myself in uncomfortable situations; I go numb, my consciousness retreating into a void. When I finally glanced up, I was instantly taken aback by the windy surprise of sun rays colliding with water. This time I felt a whole ocean of intensified, darkened blue waves crash through me. He just stared at me as I just stared at him. His eyes became as dark as night, and he quickly traded the sun ray for a shadowy moonlight. The longer he stared, the more I felt an intense warmth spreading through my body as if I were alight with infatuation. I forced myself to look away, realizing all the familiar faces glaring at us. He must have also noticed; determinedly, he started to draw. I could see his fingers following a familiar path, pen and paper colliding with ease. Then he looked up at me again, staring straight through my soul, and I let him. Every time his eyes found mine, my body reacted loudly; screaming at me. At first, I thought I was being crazy. This guy had to look at me; it was his job to look at me. How else would he draw us? When my overthinking brain tried to take control of the situation, another wave crashed me down. I drifted into the oblivion of darkened blue waters, swirling under the moonlight. I became a part of the illuminated dream, colliding with rays and water. I saw myself, and I saw him, and I knew he saw me. The minutes that passed felt like hours, his gaze never missing a beat of locking straight through mine. As his fingers' pace slowed, he took his last glance, and I took my final dip.
Windy Occurrence
Fiction, Romance
“Ell,” He takes a seat next to me on the bed, breathing heavily, “Where were you last night?” “Sleeping.” I croak. His body stiffens as he turns his gaze away from me. Of course, he doesn’t believe me. “Can we not do this again?” I sigh as I watch him get to his feet, and pull the blankets over myself. How do I even begin to try and explain something that I don’t even understand? “Agreed, let’s not.” He snarls. Booming thuds move rhythmically over the wooden floor and by the loud bang of the front door, I know I will probably never see him again. Another one bites the dust. I don’t dare to move out of my heated cocoon, pulling the blankets tighter. My heart flutters with anticipation as I try to piece together the memories of the night before. I did not lie, I was sleeping, but I was also wide awake. How do I explain to someone I barely know that I jump through time when I dream, without sounding like a complete lunatic? I don’t know where my body goes, I don’t even know where my mind lands. I forget every detail when I wake up. The shimmering blue is all that lingers and never seems to dissipate. It’s more than just hazy images of light dancing on top of crystal-clear water, or the undeniable pull in his hypnotising gaze. It’s a feeling of utter completeness, a stillness louder than the sky tearing open. One look is all it takes, and I am swept away to a haven so safe that even I don’t know how to find it. He finds me.
Shimmering Blue
Mystery, Romance, Fantasy
The sun’s golden rays filter through the canopy above. Each leaf acts as a miniature prism, catching and refracting the sunlight into a kaleidoscope of colors. Just like when our eyes used to meet, I can’t seem to look away. I don’t know how long I have just been lying here, longing for comfort I know I will never find again. She is gone. Eve is truly gone. The worst of all, I just watched her leave, not even trying to stop her. I hated my reflection haunting me in her tear-filled gaze. Her pain was a constant reminder of the man I had become, and I wanted him dead. I think she did too. Her melody used to fill the air with warmth and reassurance, dancing through the wind. The only sounds left are those of the reaper, coaxing me to the inevitable. Without her, I will disappear into the nothingness I came from. So here I am, just waiting and watching as all the vibrancy around me slowly turns to grey. The flowers that used to bloom bright, retract into themselves, wilting and curling at the edges. I know the garden is mourning her loss, just like me, unable to survive. I let out a sigh, grinding my teeth with a clenched jaw. I might have been the key unlocking the doors to a garden long forgotten but she is the only true paradise.
Forgotten Garden
Fiction, Dystopian, Fantasy
Desperate and quite frankly a little hungry, I sneak into a festival I can not afford. It is one of those flashy, loud, and pretentious events I would never be caught dead in, but I needed something, anything that could give me a chance to meet someone important. Someone with money, contacts, and, most of all, someone worth something to more than just me. I know what you are thinking… How could this young boy think he had the right to exploit another for his own gain so bluntly? Well, I'll tell you this, desperate times call for desperate matters, and besides, who are you even to judge? Whether or not we admit to it, we all do it; cheat, lie, and, most of all, manipulate to get what we want. I discovered a long time ago that it is not what we do that is the problem but how we do it. Before you make me out to be some cruel, selfish man, I wasn't planning on blackmailing my way into a job or anything that dramatic. I just wanted the opportunity to make something of myself or, if all else fails, for a one-night escape all I had become. Tonight I am putting on my best show, I traded my glasses for contacts, and ensured my socks matched. I could tell by the way women looked at me that they liked what they saw. Sadly, what they saw was nothing more than an illusion. I strolled through the colourful lights while music and loud voices blasted loudly in the air. This event was the playground for adults with too much money, time, and drinking problems. Most of the men were wearing more expensive smiles than suits, and by the way, their teeth were grinding and eyes stuck dead, cocaine-filled wallets. The woman looked out of this world, with their eyes sparkling almost as much as their dresses. Regret washed over me soon after deciding to sneak into the event. I do not fit in here, even without my glasses and bad taste in formal clothes. I might look okay, but awkwardness prevailed as soon as I opened my mouth. I need some liquid courage, and straight from the bar I head off to go watch performers whose names I would never even try to remember. I am standing a few metres outside a crowd that is forming near the stage; not so big of a turnout compared to the rest of the event. In the performer's defence, there were a lot of stages. How it must feel to be this DJ; I mean not that I was popular among the masses, but he had to look his fate right in the face and still suck up his pride and perform. I do not think I have ever had that type of courage. I'd rather be hated behind closed doors, hide behind my words. There was silence for almost 5 minutes. It was long enough for me to start feeling conscious of standing alone while others were laughing and having fun in small groups. Covered in smoke and bright lights, the illusion looked a lot like something I craved. I don't usually admit to this, but I wanted to be a part of a group; If only for the night. I wanted to join in on the mindless banter and get drunk on the idea of happiness. Suddenly the music filled the air, and to my surprise, it turned out that this performer was not a DJ at all; he was a true artist. The air filled with violins and bass; classical melodies collided with a drum rhythm too fast to comprehend. I think I even heard a trumpet somewhere in between. I felt the power of the enchanting sounds bringing me back to the present moment. As colourful illuminated lights and thoughtless figures swayed in harmonious appease; there in between the chaos, I saw her. She was shining like the brightest star in the sky; not a thoughtless figure at all. She looked like a pure soul worshipping her god as she danced with the rhythm of the night.
The Night We Met
Fiction, Romance, Crime Drama
I slowly open my blurry eyes and try to adjust to the brightness blasting through the room. I reach for my phone next to me on the bedside table. Tap! Tap! Tap! Nothing. Strange, I must have misplaced it. I push myself to my feet and stare out the window, stretching and yawning loudly. I forgot to close my curtains last night. Come to think of it, I don't remember when I fell asleep in the first place. I make my way to the bedroom door to go downstairs. As soon as I open the door, my body jerks back. I slam into an invisible force that blasts me into the room, tumbling over my own feet. In disbelief, I stare at the door, my brain not registering what had just happened. I slowly stand up. With shaking hands, I march towards the door, determined to make my way downstairs. Again, I get blasted back on to the ground as if someone is pushing me very hard. My face feels like it's about to overheat as my thoughts begin to rush. "Ok Sarah, don't panic, don't panic, don't...". Out of thin air a figure appears right before me, four big yellowish eyes stare back at me. Before I can even find my voice to scream, it rushes and reaches out its lengthy hands. "Are you ok?" The creature asks as it tries to help me to my feet. It almost seems as alarmed by me as I am by it. "Who are you? What are you? What is going on?" I scream and try to speak at the same time. "Please, mam, please, try to calm down. You don't want the others to come." He pleads in a strangely soothing tone. "Others!" I shout and rip my hands-free from his grasp. I try to run as fast as my feet can carry me, almost leaping out of the window onto the roof. I get blasted back again as soon as I am halfway through the window. This time I don't fall to the floor but rather into multiple arms and hands that feel way too cold and soft to be human. "We need to sedate her!" I hear one of them say as I try to fight and twist my way out of their grasp. The one I saw first is standing right before me, again. His yellowish eyes hypnotise me, and somehow, I feel calmer. Suddenly, a sharp pinch moves through me as a needle presses into my skin. My consciousness begins to slip away. I can almost swear I see remorse on the alien face staring back at me. "I am so sorry, Sarah; you were never meant to find out this way." The creature whispers as he lays me gently on the bed. "Go to sleep, sweet girl; tomorrow is another day."
She Is The Key
Romance, Fantasy, Thriller
“Well, well, what do we have here?” He roars like the beast he seems to be, fixing his gaze directly on me. I look up into eyes that burn like a raging fire. A small mouse trapped by a very hungry cat. I should have waited for Sheila. Before I can utter a single sound, rough, grimy hands hoist me into the air. “Look, fellas, I found our next meal. He’s a bit bony but oh, how we dogs love to chew on them bones!” A chorus of laughter fills the air, a chilling symphony of harsh tones and mocking chuckles. I close my eyes as sticky fingers grab at me. Pulling and taunting the last bit of hope out of me. I take a deep breath, and think. How can I escape this tangled web? How do I even begin to think clearly with all these piercing eyes devouring me. A chess game I played with Shiela replays in my mind, her words a distant murmur, and suddenly, the answer reveals itself. One thing thugs understand is bargaining. “Wait, I have something worth much more than my bones.” The giant beast gripping my shirt lets out another chuckle. “Oh, and is that so? And what could you possibly possess that I would desire?” “The gift to stay alive!” Shiela’s voice suddenly slices through the tension, her words as sharp as her knife, which slashes through the arm of the barbarian swinging me around. My eyes meet her’s, and like an unspoken pact, I know exactly what to do next. I kick as hard as I can, jabbing the knife deeper into the thug's arm. In unison, Shiela and I charge through the crowd, her kicks and my punches landing in perfect rhythm. Soon, we stand back to back, facing the angry circle closing in around us.
We Got This
Mystery, Fantasy, Romance
“Ella! What on earth do you think you are doing?” His voice startles me more than the excruciating sound of the poor mama mare, and based on the bloody circumstances, that says a lot. “What does it look like I am doing, Colton? She needs help!” I almost scream at him. My anxiety is getting the best of me. I need to calm down, but how could I? Rosie is heaving in pain, her eyes begging me for help. I have never done this before, my hands struggling to act right. I have seen my dad assist a mare with birth when I was a child, but by the looks of the mess, I am surely doing something wrong. I suddenly feel Colton moving in behind me, his calm demeanor like a breath of fresh air. Strong arms wrap around me, his hands guiding mine toward the backside of the foal barely sticking out. “Just follow my lead, okay? They are going to be fine, I promise,” his voice gently glides through the cold night air. For some reason, I trust him. I inhale deeply and do as I’m told for a change. In this moment of chaos, the warmth of his breath on my skin captures my attention far more than it should. “Now, slowly and gently, we are going to pull, okay?” “Mmhmm,” I affirm, hoping I sound more confident than I feel. I sense the pulsing rhythm of life beneath my fingertips, and a piece of my soul locks into position. Suddenly, my attention sharpens to a laser-like focus on the task at hand, my heart racing with exhilaration as the foal slowly enters the world. Our hands seem to move in synchronized motion, Colton as steady as a rock. The barn, usually filled with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, falls silent, as if nature itself is holding her breath. "Sometimes, all anyone needs is just a little bit of support," his words break the silence at the exact moment the foal makes its first nickerings. Tears of joy spill all over my face as the little foal covers beneath the warmth of Rosie. Oh, how lucky I feel to be alive for this moment. Without thinking, I wipe my hair out of my face, leaving trails of sticky wetness. Colton bursts out in laughter, and I can’t help but do the same. Still resting in his embrace, I turn around, wiping the remaining filth off my hands and hopefully the smug smile from his face. His smile does not fade even one bit; gently grabbing my hands in his, he looks at me as if he is seeing me for the first time in a long time. His light blue eyes turns as dark as night. “You did so good, El. Rosie is lucky to have you back, and so am I.”
Western Collisions
Fiction, Romance
