Add to favorites

Evgenia Chepenko

The villain is not my novel

All names, surnames and titles are fictitious.

Any similarities are random.

- Nyusha, it’s us. We decided to do some kind of feat for you and made a prince.

- Prince?! Yes, I almost died of fear!

– You haven’t seen what kind of dragon we made...

Smeshariki. Prince for Nyusha

Part one

In general, this noisy, sometimes dirty, huge piece of land, cut by canals and rivers into smaller pieces, is the bright Petrov grad. This street with a string of cars, expensive boutiques, restaurants, eateries, one Tajik bear asking passing children: “Kah tibe zavut”, a couple of neg... Oh, you can’t call them that! – a couple of Africans in felt boots, chattering their teeth and handing out leaflets, and (where would we be without him), of course, one pink rabbit, indiscriminately thrusting advertising brochures with indecent content from the nearest sex shop to everyone... Although if we talk about the sizes, they are just very decent . Hmm, should I buy something? Just out of curiosity how this fits. On the other hand, children are accommodated. Got distracted. What am I talking about? A. So, this is Nevsky Prospekt.

That skinny hen in a black coat, with a big butt and shallow breasts, in a long, almost gypsy skirt and heels, with a face like a brick, scratching straight towards the entrance to the subway, that’s me. Call me Elena. Women I know call him Lenok. The men I know don’t bother other than Lenukha. I know, it’s not tender and not romantic, but somehow I myself don’t pretend to be a woman’s special softness, nor to sensitivity, defenselessness and compassion... Something like that. Okay, we've landed. We look at the universe through my eyes.

I pushed aside two young guys who were wearing the latest fashion trousers, which meant that one was too tight, I didn’t dare walk in those, and the second was too wide, with a low... hmm... butt, and dived into the subway. The work is fucking over, jump into the carriage towards Parnassus and go home. You need to buy the book. Some detective. Not fantasy. Or, God forbid, a novel about love. It’s not that I don’t respect fairy tales about it, I really read and respected them, but too often they, such dogs, come across snotty, long and boring. And I love action. So that the main character is not a virginal washcloth, well, in extreme cases, just not a washcloth, so that if she is the main character, then all men should be a man! In short, on the underground trays, not a single book of this genre satisfied my needs.

She ran down the escalator, moving careless citizens and guests of the Northern capital to the right edge, rushed to the periodicals, chose an unfamiliar title from a row of bright detective-themed covers, pulled the book closer to her, took out a pre-prepared piece of paper from her pocket and, handing it to the saleswoman, began to wait for change . While the latter was dealing with a certain picky young person who was meticulously sifting out those romance novels that she had already read from those that she had not, I glanced nervously towards the tracks. My wonderful short black nails methodically beat out a rhythm on the hard cardboard cover.

“Girl, just a minute...” the unfortunate saleswoman tried to fight off the obsessive customer at least for a while.

- No, wait. Also this book...

I sighed. The train is coming soon. People moved closer to the edge. Among the others, I noticed a very impressive old woman in a pink felt hat with a wide brim and a transparent veil lowered over her eyes. The top of the headdress of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries was crowned with a wildly sized bouquet with a purple grape cluster. A gray, pink-checked coat hugged his skinny figure. The image was completed by a long umbrella, on which the woman leaned as if on a cane, and a small, shaggy, disgustingly yapping dog in a pink sweater. People looked askance at the “lady with the dog,” some with affection, some with suspicion. And rightly so. You never know what's going on in her head.

- Here's your change.

The saleswoman finally escaped for a moment from the tenacious clutches of the fan of female reading material. I hid the money in my pocket.

A dog's squealing and screaming could be heard under the high arches of the station. I turned around. The lady dropped her pet right on the way, and no one was in a hurry to help the nasty creature. Without thinking about anything in general, I ran, stuffing the legally purchased book into my bag along the way. Assessing the strength of the wind from the tunnel and the absence of white headlights for now, she landed down with all her might in her heels. How did you not sprain your leg? She caught the little thing in shock, threw it up, caught on the edge of the platform, trying to pull herself up, and screamed with all the strength in her lungs:

- Guys, help!

There weren’t very many “men”, but the ones that were found dragged me in after the dog.

I took a breath and sat straight on the floor. The train screeched, green carriages flashed. Some guy helped me up and led me inside. The hulk didn’t even ask which way I needed to go. I quietly thanked him, dusted myself off, found a free standing place, grabbed the handrail and reached into my bag for a book. However, I didn’t have time to take it out completely; a pink ugliness with a flowerbed grew before my eyes.

– Thank you very much, girl! – the woman chirped quite pleasantly, hugging the quiet dog to her chest.

I shrugged vaguely.

- Yes, anything can happen.

- No one went there except you.

“No, they should have climbed,” for some reason I began to justify the human race. I always get a little lost from gratitude and compliments. “It’s just hard to figure it out right away.”

The woman studied me with attentive, bright blue eyes. I shivered. In theory, such eyes do not exist. Some clean, like blue glass.

I nodded.

– In general, I love this genre. I don't know why.

She smiled mysteriously and got off at the next station. I watched her go, thought a little about the strange eyes and returned to the interrupted lesson. She fished a book out of her bag, opened it, and read the first lines.

“The bar squealed and hummed in different voices. A young short girl in a short scarlet skirt and leather jacket sat cross-legged at the bar and thoughtfully sipped a cocktail through a straw. Two noisy, tipsy friends to her right cast sidelong glances at her slender legs covered in fishnet stockings..."

They elbowed me so hard that I momentarily lost my balance and was distracted from reading. The brain, which, as usual at the sight of a possible detective line, turned on its resources to the fullest, warned the liberated consciousness that the likelihood of a stupid beauty sitting alone in a bar in the outfit of a lightweight beginner girl, becoming a bargaining chip in the life of some maniac, is very great. I plunged into the world of the red skirt again.

“Eina sighed heavily...”

“...and cast a furtive glance towards her friends, who had thrown a small bachelorette party in honor of Eloise’s separation from her fiancé. I didn’t want to go to the girls. She wasn’t interested in just sitting there and drinking incredible amounts of alcohol...”

And why did you stop? I slowly began to become disillusioned with the author's deductive abilities. I couldn’t even invent a normal excuse for a girl in a bar.

“Her gaze slowly slid over the neighbor on the left, a tall, pale, thin brunette

Chepenko Evgeniya The villain is not my novel

Nyusha, it's us. We decided to do some kind of feat for you and made a prince.

Prince?! Yes, I almost died of fear!

You haven’t seen the dragon we made yet...

Prince for Nyusha

(Smeshariki)

Part one

In general, this noisy, sometimes dirty, huge piece of land, cut by canals and rivers into smaller pieces, is the bright Petrov grad. This street with a string of cars, expensive boutiques, restaurants, eateries, one Tajik bear asking passing children “Kakh tibe zavut”, a couple of negs... Oh, you can’t call them that!.. a couple of Africans in felt boots, chattering their teeth and handing out leaflets , and (where would we be without him), of course, one pink rabbit, indiscriminately thrusting indecent advertising brochures from the nearest sex shop to everyone... Although if we talk about the sizes, they are just very decent. Hm. Should I buy something? Just out of curiosity how it fits. On the other hand, children are accommodated. Got distracted. What am I talking about? A! So, this is Nevsky Prospekt.

That skinny chicken in a black coat with a big butt, shallow breasts in a long, almost gypsy skirt and heels, with a face like a brick, scratching all the way to the entrance to the subway, that’s me. Call me Elena. Women I know call him Lenok. The men I know don’t bother other than Lenukha. I know, it’s not gentle and unromantic, but somehow I myself don’t pretend to be a woman’s special softness, but also to sensitivity, defenselessness and compassion... Something like that. Okay, we've landed. We look at the universe through my eyes.

I pushed aside two young guys who were wearing the latest fashion trousers, which meant that one was too tight, I didn’t dare walk in those, the other was too wide with a low - hmm - butt, and dived into the subway. The work is fucking done, jump on the train towards Parnassus and go home! You need to buy the book. Some detective. Not fantasy! Or, God forbid, a novel about love. It’s not that I didn’t respect fairy tales about it, I even read and respected it very much, but too often they, such dogs, come across snotty, long and boring. And I love action. So that the main character is not a virginal washcloth, well, in extreme cases, just not a washcloth, so that if she is the main character, then all the men are a man! In short, on the underground trays, not a single book of this genre satisfied my needs.

She ran down the escalator, moving careless citizens and guests of the northern capital to the right edge, rushed to the periodicals, chose an unfamiliar title from a row of bright detective-themed covers, pulled the book closer to her, took out a pre-prepared piece of paper from her pocket and, handing it to the saleswoman, began to wait for change . While the last woman, of unknown age, was dealing with a certain picky young person who was meticulously sifting out those romance novels that she had already read from those that she had not, I nervously glanced towards the tracks. My wonderful short black nails methodically beat out a rhythm on the hard cardboard cover.

Girl, just a minute... - the unfortunate saleswoman tried to fight off the obsessive customer at least for a while.

No, wait. Also this book...

I sighed. The train is coming soon. People moved closer to the edge. Among the others, I noticed a very impressive old woman in a pink felt hat with a wide brim and a transparent veil lowered over her eyes. The top of the headdress of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries was crowned with a wildly sized bouquet with a purple bunch of grapes. A gray, pink-checked coat hugged her skinny figure. The image was completed by a long umbrella, on which the woman leaned as if on a cane, and a small shaggy, disgustingly yapping dog in a pink sweater. People looked sideways at the “lady with the dog,” some with affection, some with suspicion. And rightly so. You never know what's going on in her head.

Here’s your change,” the saleswoman finally broke free for a moment from the tenacious clutches of the fan of women’s reading material. I hid the money in my pocket.

A dog's squealing and screaming sounded from the ceiling. I turned around. The lady dropped her dog. And okay, I just dropped it, but on the way. And no one rushed to help the nasty creature under the train. Without thinking about anything in general, I ran, stuffing a legally purchased book into my bag along the way, assessing the strength of the wind from the tunnel and the absence of white headlights for now, and landed with all my might in my heels. How did you not sprain your leg? She caught the little thing in shock, threw it up, caught on the edge of the platform, trying to pull herself up and screamed with all the strength in her lungs:

Guys! Help!

Evgenia Chepenko is not the villain of my novel. “The villain of not my novel” Evgenia Chepenko Evgenia Chepenko the hero of not my novel

I couldn’t bring myself to even flip through the book diagonally beyond a few pages.

Grade 2 out of 5 stars from yuta 09.05.2019 22:53

For me the book is empty.

Grade 1 out of 5 stars from mixunchik 25.03.2018 13:19

The book caused incredible delight. Everything is written in an interesting, tasty and lively way. I don’t agree with previous reviews that the heroine sometimes behaves like a child. But you must admit that at heart we are all children who simply change outwardly. By her actions and boundless care for Bes, she shows her love. The plot is incredibly romantic and terribly cute. I liked the author’s idea of getting into another book, it’s very unusual, at least I’ve never seen it anywhere before. I would also like to note the behavior of the main characters. For once there is no overkill with pink snot and meaningless dialogues. Every act, dialogue and action follows from the previous event. Hero's characters are very well written. I especially liked the changes in Bes. It opens on the other side. GG is also not a stupid girl or an all-powerful goddess with a magnificent appearance and almost a star on her forehead. Finally, an ordinary girl who at first does not see anything special in herself, but in the end understands that for the main character she is the most beautiful and beloved.
For me, this is a well-deserved 5. Nowadays it is difficult to find something worthwhile in this genre, and this book has a well-deserved right to be called a representative of its genre. Well done author, she managed not to cross the fine line between a romance novel and outright pornography.
In general, I highly recommend reading it, the book pulls you in from the first pages)

Grade 5 out of 5 stars by Book Thief 06/04/2017 20:27

The beginning is quite good, even original. But then... Only the love story kept me reading this book. And then only until the middle. I don’t like such saccharine and boring heroes. And some moments are very similar to Twilight. IMHO.

Grade 2 out of 5 stars from nadejdalast 23.07.2015 14:21

The idea of getting into the book is not bad. There is enough eroticism. Although the heroines who fall in love with vampires almost at first sight are a little annoying.. You can read it, but there is no particular delight

Grade 4 out of 5 stars from royal_flash 22.04.2015 10:44

I liked it

Grade 5 out of 5 stars from ylkas 21.02.2015 19:10

I really liked it! The book is great! I agree that this is not the best work of this author... but still not the worst. I read reviews about this book and I would like to say the following... of course, many did not like it, but still, people are different. The main character is just super rude!

Grade 4 out of 5 stars from Nastya 01/02/2015 07:49

I liked it, despite the critical reviews

Grade 5 out of 5 stars from gev09 30.11.2014 15:45

Yes-ah... And they still publish this?! GG, as it turned out in the end for 30 years, is inarticulate, well, absolutely. Initially, a girl full of life, after 4 pages she miraculously becomes like a teenager (sitting under chairs, hiding behind the sofa, etc., etc.). In short, it's a rare mess, the plot is weak, the characters are sluggish, the conclusion is that you need to read the comments more carefully before reading another opus by an unknown author. It's my own fault :)

Grade 1 out of 5 stars from Yulka 21.11.2014 01:12

Although I’m not a fan of vampire werewolf stories, he was too sweet and... intimate)) although the constant movement of the girl on her arms (or even running) was simply infuriating (and this is not out of envy))))

Grade 4 out of 5 stars from nikita_ell_derri 30.09.2014 22:07

The detective plot is completely incomprehensible, but the love line is very good)))
I really want to find someone like him, otherwise I’m tired of being a horse-stopping, vibrating, infuriating woman. I want it to be like in the book: to pick it up and solve all the problems. Fuck...

Grade 4 out of 5 stars from virta 04.07.2014 00:54

nafih.... I’m still not a masachist and I couldn’t finish reading (((the plot never appeared.. although I read more than half the book...

Grade 3 out of 5 stars from Leka 29.06.2014 13:40

And so everything started well. Originally, the heroine is self-confident, moderately daring... until she meets the punk Bes the blond. And there he turns into a dog. He suppresses her will, she doesn’t argue and feeds him with her blood... what a pity, she will be renewed anyway... I liked how the feelings were described... the sex... I didn’t like the plot... and some phrases like..." he left room, I caught up with him and grabbed the belt and ran next to him.. “what the...?! this phrase occurs at least 2 times.. or “I sat down at his feet and hugged his knees.”.. she would have kissed his feet again ...heh. In general, the attitude of the heroes is from the series of “slave and master”. He takes care of her... he loves her... he dresses and undresses her himself, because he has his own cockroaches in his head and periodically gnaws at her neck... hunger is not a problem, after all. In general, not bad, if you skip the boring one until your teeth grind."..we got on the train and I buried my nose in his chest.."...he hugged me, and I buried my nose in his neck.." the girls clearly have a cold nose)))) in short, my verdict is that it’s possible to read and is even interesting in places.. BUT.. I only read half the book... it’s already incredibly boring.. the plot is crazy.. the vampire and the GG are rushing around the city in search of the killer and They have sex every turn...they go from world to world...I think it's time to stop reading

Grade 3 out of 5 stars from Leka 23.06.2014 04:39

Grade 1 out of 5 stars from Panferov N 06/03/2014 15:17

Not that very, but readable, erotic. GG is just the perfect man.

Grade 5 out of 5 stars from Amareth 19.04.2014 21:40

Don’t you think, dear readers, that this novel is a parody of the “vampire” fiction that is so beloved and praised at the present time? I still have this feeling...

heh-lenkin 04.01.2014 12:08

And I liked it :)) Easy to read. There are places where you can laugh.

Grade 5 out of 5 stars from Elena 11/23/2013 13:47

A very interesting book. I really liked GG, she behaves like an adult woman who knows what she wants from life and understands that you can’t build a family life without compromises.

Grade 5 out of 5 stars from Tatiana 17.11.2013 20:38

Written for “cutes”, since GG is a cutie.
“Nyashka” is a doll girl who needs to be fed, dressed, pampered, taken shopping, spanked if she peed in her pants, stroked on the head and made sure she doesn’t get her nose in the dirt.
As you can see, all the cuties dream of a man who would be happy to meet such a cutie and become her nanny, daddy, wallet and man, fulfilling all their whims and desires.

Grade 3 out of 5 stars from olga_greku 27.09.2013 03:10

I liked it.. I was pleased by the lack of smeared self-flagellation of the heroes, the GG is not some kind of SuperWoman who received super powers and, once in another world, did not try to give a “lyula” to everyone and everything, special thanks to the Author for this!

Grade 5 out of 5 stars from LaRee 21.06.2013 00:25

And I gave it a 5 just for the not-so-well-worn plot and for the not-so-ordinary characters. But love... Furious sex and furious jealousy, in my opinion, will not lead to good things. Someone will break. Overall I liked the novel.

Grade 5 out of 5 stars from Katyushka 06/17/2013 21:09

Thanks to the girls for the positive comments, thanks to which I found such a cute book. The plot, of course, is rather weak and not always clear, but the love line is super!!! I also recommend it to everyone!

Grade 5 out of 5 stars from Karina

The villain is not my novel Evgenia Chepenko

(No ratings yet)

Title: The Villain of Not My Novel

About the book “The Villain of Not My Novel” by Evgeniy Chepenko

Lena got it, she got it... She got it in the book. And Len met the main character, but for some reason she fell in love with the main villain. A lot of love, a little eroticism, a little humor, just a little banter and no thrashing, moaning or frustration.

On our website about books, you can download the site for free without registration or read online the book “The Villain of Not My Novel” by Evgeniy Chepenko in epub, fb2, txt, rtf, pdf formats for iPad, iPhone, Android and Kindle. The book will give you a lot of pleasant moments and real pleasure from reading. You can buy the full version from our partner. Also, here you will find the latest news from the literary world, learn the biography of your favorite authors. For aspiring writers, there is a separate section with useful tips and tricks, interesting articles, thanks to which you yourself can try your hand at literary crafts.

Quotes from the book “The Villain of Not My Novel” by Evgeniy Chepenko

- A-ah-ah!
- Nyusha, it’s us. We decided to do some kind of feat for you and made a prince.
- Prince?! Yes, I almost died of fear!
– You haven’t seen what kind of dragon we made...

Pigtail also turned out to have an idiotic name.

– Which of the two? – I ventured to clarify.

Now listen to me, stupid little girl. All your ideas about yourself are deeply mistaken. You sincerely believe in something that simply does not exist. Your smell drives me crazy, your movements fascinate me. You look like a thin figurine of a cat come to life, only more tender, more graceful, weightless. In the forest in my arms you were black, independent, independent, but I want you to become home, to become mine, I will not allow you to wear this color again. I love watching you, I love feeling your flexible body, listening to your moans, your voice and my name from your lips. When I feel your desire, I cease to normally control myself and my actions, and if I do this, it is only at the cost of incredible efforts. And we both know very well that you lied. You love sex too much to never indulge your needs and desires. On the very first morning, watching you bend under the streams of water in my shower, I imagined a delightful picture. My imagination is not enough for me, I want to see everything in reality, and only you can give me what I have been wanting for so long.

Where's my brain? The brain smiled stupidly and waved its hand at reasonableness. We smile and wave.

We, Russian tourists, don’t go around mountains, we make holes in them.

Where's my brain? The brain smiled stupidly and waved its hand at reasonableness. Smile and wave, gentlemen... Smile and wave...

- Nyusha, it’s us. We decided to do some kind of feat for you and made a prince.

- Prince?! Yes, I almost died of fear!

-You haven’t seen the dragon we made yet...

Prince for Nyusha

(Smeshariki)

Part one

1

In general, this noisy, sometimes dirty, huge piece of land, cut by canals and rivers into smaller pieces, is the bright Petrov grad. This street with a string of cars, expensive boutiques, restaurants, eateries, one Tajik bear asking passing children “Kakh tibe zavut”, a couple of negs... Oh, you can’t call them that!.. a couple of Africans in felt boots, chattering their teeth and handing out leaflets , and (where would we be without him), of course, one pink rabbit, indiscriminately thrusting indecent advertising brochures from the nearest sex shop to everyone... Although if we talk about the sizes, they are just very decent. Hm. Should I buy something? Just out of curiosity how it fits. On the other hand, children are accommodated. Got distracted. What am I talking about? A! So, this is Nevsky Prospekt.

“Girl, just a minute...” the unfortunate saleswoman tried to fight off the obsessive customer at least for a while.

- No, wait. Also this book...

I sighed. The train is coming soon. People moved closer to the edge. Among the others, I noticed a very impressive old woman in a pink felt hat with a wide brim and a transparent veil lowered over her eyes. The top of the headdress of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries was crowned with a wildly sized bouquet with a purple bunch of grapes. A gray, pink-checked coat hugged her skinny figure. The image was completed by a long umbrella, on which the woman leaned as if on a cane, and a small shaggy, disgustingly yapping dog in a pink sweater.