What Does A Voodoo Doll Symbolize In Different Cultures?

He didn't want her money. He wanted her. Elara Vance is one bad week away from losing everything. Her freelance career is barely keeping the lights on, her sister is falling apart on her couch, and her car is about to be repossessed. So when she accidentally damages a stranger's luxury car on an empty street, she knows she's ruined. But the man who steps out of the black sedan isn't interested in her insurance. He isn't interested in the police. He isn't even interested in the forty‑two thousand dollars she owes him. Adrian Volkov wants something else entirely. He's been watching her for weeks. He knows about her sister, her bills, her father's death. He knows she's desperate enough to do anything. And he's about to prove it. The contract is simple: she moves into his mansion, follows his rules, and becomes his Doll. In exchange, her debt disappears. No police. No record. No questions. But the rules aren't what she expects. The mansion is a cage, the servants know more than they say, and Adrian's cold exterior hides something darker than she ever imagined. He doesn't just want her body. He wants her submission. Her trust. Her surrender. And he won't stop until he has all of it. Elara tells herself it's just a transaction. A way to survive. But the line between obligation and desire blurs with every glance, every touch, every night she spends in his bed. The more he controls her, the more she craves it. And the more she learns about his past, the more she realizes: she was never the one in control. And now that she's his Doll, he'll never let her go. Doll is a dark romance with explicit content, power dynamics, and a slow‑burn descent into obsession. Recommended for readers 18+.

When Lisa Dumont travels down to New Orleans to stay with her mother for the summer, she finds herself entangled in a web of century-long territorial disputes between undead and supernatural forces. Lisa soon realizes that she has become torn between the blood-loyalty to her mother, Voodoo Priestess Madam Dumont, and the intrigue she has grown towards Elder Vampire, Hezekiah Mercier - the enemy. And consequently, the heavy discord between the two factions leaves Lisa with life-changing decisions to make that could possibly alter the fate of both groups and everyone else in between.

"When does a person die, when it stops breathing, when its heart stops beating?" "No a person dies the moment it looses hope, that's when u become an empty shell, a living doll when you have no more expectation from the world, where there are no feelings just emptiness" "Many people would think that immortality is a blessing little do they know that this is the cruellest curse someone can give you" ******** *creepy smile* " Oh Celea you really think that you will ever be able to live me" he was caressing her face, he looked like he was crazy... "what are you talking about?" " I'm saying that you will never be able to escape me, I won't let you go even if you love someone else, you are mine" " your hair belongs to me" touches her hair " your lips belong to me" touches her lips " the eyes that look at me with indifference belong to me" touches her eyes " your heart belongs to me..." his finger went down her neck to her heart, action wich made Celea look at where his finger's at. Claus than goes to her ear and whispers " your whole existence belongs to me Celea"

A dark and gloomy villa stood in the middle of the barren landscape, hidden from sight by a perched hedge. It was phenomenal and spectacular, but it makes it appear to have succumbed to a sullen and ominous atmosphere, both inside and out. A lanky hedge and gnarled shrubs give off the impression that the house has indeed been overlooked. The rainstorm seeping from the sewer pipes made the place appear miserable and dispirited. Needless to say, the house appeared razed to the ground and devoid of life. The house was made of rune stone that had been smeared darker in spots by downpours, sending it an insidious demeanor even during the day. The window frames were all padlocked and bricked up in steel frames and woods, as if what was inside would have been too grotesque to see, trying to give the impression that someone must have attempted to prevent something horrible from escaping. People have claimed that the residence was plagued by the witch who died there, but there has been no tangible evidence to substantiate their claims. It was even widely speculated that the villa was venomous and mowed down the leaves of trees that come into direct contact with its concrete pillars. People also construed a terrifying presumption that whoever tries to enter the house will never make it out alive because there is something inside that you would never dare to see with your very own eyes. Whatever was real or not, it was unmistakably foreshadowing, exponentially cold and savage at a hundredth of a thousand glances. A breathtaking doll sat competently on a rocking chair inside the house. Waiting complacently for someone brave and heroic enough to unravel the abominable and ghoulish mystery and paradox behind her enchanting, spine-chilling smile.

My childhood friend said that he was connected with the doll. Now that he had lost it, he called me up to cry. One hand held my phone as I consoled him, while the other toyed with the doll. His voice began to take on a more interesting tone with my purposeful touches… I squeezed and pinched the toy and comforted him, “Shh, I agree with you. Whoever took your toy is a terrible person…”

I became a payment to my father’s debt. Put into an auction in the black market with a million dollars stashed on my head. And then, he saw me, wanted me, and purchased me.I somehow became his prize possession. His sweet lovely doll he can toy with whenever he wants. Play with my feelings and make me go crazy. I detested him for making my life become a daily living hell.… ….a caged bird robbed of its wings. However, the anger cultivated in me evolved into something I could not ignore. A feeling unknown, yet I always craved. A little touch from him burns me, sending me off my senses, yet in a blissful sensation spiraling down to my soul and to the middle of my desire. He consumed all of me till nothing was left.