Novels by Megan King

Shampoo is an Enquired Taste unlike Strawberry and Chocolate milkshakeIris ran.She didn’t even think about running away until she saw the state of Orion’s brown stained white shirt. She just twirled away in a flurry of red curls and hit the road with speed she didn’t know she was capable of. The sites of the city blurred around her as feet followed the familiar route to Etês-Vous Faim.Maybe it was minutes, maybe it was hours, Iris didn’t know, but she eventually arrived on the street housing the French restaurant and came to an abrupt stopped. She was so occupied with getting away from the Academy students that she didn’t feel her thighs burning or her shortage of breath until she was safe enough to feel it. Her chest heaved and she squatted down, mindful of her skirt, trying to calm her racing heart, thankful that she was alone.Alone?Why was she alone?Did Vic

Endless Debate: Bravery or StupidityOrion Crawford.Orion motherbleeping Crawford.Seeing the melting ice cream on his admittedly gorgeous shoes was equal to seeing her life flash before her eyes.Victoria was still sitting on the ground in the position she fell in, eyes wide as she gawked at the boy - no, demon - in front of them. Iris was sure that her friend’s heart has stopped, seeing as she wasn’t even breathing. Not that Iris could blame her. She wasn’t even breathing, and she wasn’t even the one responsible for the fall.If it was anyone else besides a student from Crawford who they bumped into, all they would have done is apologise - because normal human beings make mistakes. But the students of the Academy were anything but normal and the school ground hierarchy still existed, even if you were not on them. If it was anyone else this would hav

Ice Cream Does Not Make Things Better.Iris felt tears of relief crawling out of her eyes when the last bell of the day rang. She was outside the lavishly designed school, not even bothering to place everything neatly into her bag before the bell stopped ringing. She needed out. She needed out now.The day had been difficult. The students had giggled and high-fived each other when she had walked into the history classroom, insults had upgraded from whispers to outright greetings and the tripping attempts had tripled.Was there a “Pick on me! Pick on me!” sign flickering above her?But alas, the day was done and Iris was ready to shed the ‘personally hand-stitched’ uniform – she would set it on fire if she could have afforded a new one – and take the next hour to just relax; she only needed to be at the restaurant at three o’clock. Maybe spend some time in one of the internet cafes her cla

Fake News and Contemplating FailureIris had hoped that the next day would be better. That she would wake up without the knot in her stomach and the exhausted feeling. She, foolishly, thought that a good night's sleep would at least make things seem a little less bleak.She forgot that she actually needed to sleep for that to work.And now here she stood in front of the massive and weirdly intricate gate of the school. It stood about three meters tall and looked like something out of a rich-kid boarding school movie. Or Vampire Academy. Even the gate looked better than she did at this moment; no matter how tacky it actually was. Her hair was pulled into a hasty, messy bun and there was definitely nothing artsy about it. The school uniform felt kind of skew and the blue bags under her eyes stood out oh-so-beautifully against her pale skin.Overall, an accurate represent

Self-hatred is such a mood cured only by stalking“Tell me again how it happened, exactly," Danika Mallick, Iris's best friend demanded. Her strong voice almost echoed throughout the empty restaurant. Both girls worked at a small French restaurant called Êtes-Vous Faim, owned by Madame Bisset - if that was even her real name. They were wearing the required uniform consisting of a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with the restaurant logo printed on it.Iris straightened from where she was wiping a table's top and giggled at the sight of Danika. Her friend stood tall with her fists on her hips, her thick, dark eyebrows raised as her cinnamon eyes glared down on Iris. Her black, glossy hair was in a high ponytail that still managed to trail down to the middle of her back. The sunset kissed her tawny skin, creating a picture Iris d

High School Hierarchy ft The Lion KingIris Holmes was sitting in homeroom casting an incredulous gaze as she took in her surroundings. She was in the centre of the classroom and could see everything that was going on around her. She didn't understand what was going on. Iris has been attending this school for about a month now, since the beginning of the school year, and she still had no clue what was actually happening around her. Her classmates were sitting in their in small groups talking, giggling, and showing off about what they did this past weekend. She caught some phrases of what they were saying. Her jaw dropped when those words met her ears.“Is that the new Harry Winston necklace?”“Oh my soul, how did you get the Graff Diamonds Hallucination? I didn't even know they were on sale yet!”“I heard you got the Wizard of OZ ruby slipper? I heard that i

Orion Crawford.Orion motherbleeping Crawford.Seeing the melting ice cream on his admittedly gorgeous shoes was equal to seeing her life flash before her eyes.Victoria was still sitting on the ground in the position she fell in, eyes wide as she gawked at the boy - no, demon - in front of them. Iris was sure that her friend’s heart has stopped, seeing as she wasn’t even breathing. Not that Iris could blame her. She wasn’t even breathing, and she wasn’t even the one responsible for the fall.If it was anyone else besides a student from Crawford who they bumped into, all they would have done is apologise - because normal human beings make mistakes. But the students of the Academy were anything but normal and the school ground hierarchy still existed, even if you were not on them. If it was anyone else this would have been seen as a simple mistake, but as it was the Crawford elite standing in front of them, it was seen as delib

Iris felt tears of relief crawling out of her eyes when the last bell of the day rang. She was outside the lavishly designed school, not even bothering to place everything neatly into her bag before the bell stopped ringing. She needed out. She needed out now.The day had been difficult. The students had giggled and high-fived each other when she had walked into the history classroom, insults had upgraded from whispers to outright greetings and the tripping attempts had tripled.Was there a “Pick on me! Pick on me!” sign flickering above her?But alas, the day was done and Iris was ready to shed the ‘personally hand-stitched’ uniform – she would set it on fire if she could have afforded a new one – and take the next hour to just relax; she only needed to be at the restaurant at three o’clock. Maybe spend some time in one of the internet cafes her classmates wouldn’t dare walk into and steal the Wi-Fi to download some new tracks or w

Iris had hoped that the next day would be better. That she would wake up without the knot in her stomach and the exhausted feeling. She, foolishly, thought that a good night's sleep would at least make things seem a little less bleak.She forgot that she actually needed to sleep for that to work.And now here she stood in front of the massive and weirdly intricate gate of the school. It stood about three meters tall and looked like something out of a rich-kid boarding school movie. Or Vampire Academy. Even the gate looked better than she did at this moment; no matter how tacky it actually was. Her hair was pulled into a hasty, messy bun and there was definitely nothing artsy about it. The school uniform felt kind of skew and the blue bags under her eyes stood out oh-so-beautifully against her pale skin.Overall, an accurate representation of a high school student. Death, as well, if you wanted to get deep.“Iris!" a

When Iris arrived at her doorstep, the sky was dark and the streets were quiet, with only the dim lamps lighting up a certain spot on the road. She quickly opened the door and stepped over the threshold, the silence and cold giving way for the boisterous sounds and warmth of her family.There really was nowhere like home.She could hear her mother in the kitchen, pots, and pans rattling as she finished cooking. The sounds of the TV echoed a sports channel, overlapping with the voices of her father and younger brother, Charlie. Probably discussing their day or bonding about men tackling each other for a ball. Whatever works for them.Iris decided to greet her mother first and walked towards the kitchen. Ent

She still looked unsure but pulled the laptop closer. Her eyes went big before she began reading.“The heir to the biggest fashion empire, Camilla Duard is the person every girl wants to be. The daughter of retired top runway model turned number one fashion designer Eleonore Duard neé Couture, is taking the fashion world by storm. Not just with her beauty but with her newAmonfashion line said to be available next Fall- ”“I have to wait for a year?”Danika and Iris screamed in unison and swung around to face the new voice.Standing there was Zoya Babito, their gorgeously tall, dark, and fashionable friend. Her hair was as b

“Tell me again how it happened, exactly," Danika Mallick, Iris's best friend demanded. Her strong voice almost echoed throughout the empty restaurant. Both girls worked at a small French restaurant called Êtes-Vous Faim, owned by Madame Bisset - if that was even her real name. They were wearing the required uniform consisting of a pair of jeans and a T-shirt with the restaurant logo printed on it.Iris straightened from where she was wiping a table's top and giggled at the sight of Danika. Her friend stood tall with her fists on her hips, her thick, dark eyebrows raised as her cinnamon eyes glared down on Iris. Her black, glossy hair was in a high ponytail that still managed to trail down to the middle of her back. The sunset kissed her tawny skin, creating a picture Iris desperately wanted to take.Iris and Danika stood eye t