2nd Hand Lyrics Novels & Stories

Anita," her angelic voice calls to me. Thunder rumbles in the distance. Her soft, delicate hands caressing my face, sparkling green eyes grounding me from the dark past I wish I could forget. "You're safe, it's okay." I bring my hand up, running my finger over the mound of scar tissue. The constant reminder of that night. The raised bump covers the bullet fragment embedded in my sternum. She takes my hands as more thunder rumbles and tears roll down my cheeks. "Breathe Anita," she says in a soothing whisper. My lungs were burning with the need for air and it was then that I realized I'd been holding it. I take in a gasping breath and recall the first time my eyes met her green eyes. My sister had been lifted off me and my eyes opening had startled her. The first time she touched me gave me strength to hold on. I held her hand tight, trying to tell her what happened, but couldn't get enough breath to form words. Sitting in the present going through the same as I had five years ago. "They were all found, Anita. They can't hurt you anymore. It's just a storm. All the doors and windows are locked, the alarm is set. It's just you and me." "Will you keep the light on tonight, please?"

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.

“What do you think people would say if they found out you don’t have a d**k?” Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. “Or if they discovered these voluptuous br**sts you’ve been hiding so well?” A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened ni**les, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes. “Which do you think they’d call you?” he murmured, eyes gleaming. “A boy with t*ts… or a d**kless little fraud?” I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me. “The term you’re looking for is ‘girl,’” came Xavier’s smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. “So tell me, little girl… what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?” Christian’s smirk widened. “She wants to be devoured by boys like us.” His fingers gave my ni**le one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. “And I’m more than happy to give her a taste.”

EXCERPT: John freed himself from the security lashes in order to gain more access to Tom. He gripped his friend's waist, squeezing to emphasize how much he was willing to give up for this man. "I can touch you. We can touch. Touch me." Tom searched John's face with his eyes, the flush on his cheeks darkening and capturing John's attention once more. He could feel Tom's uncertainty as if it were a weighted net falling over them both to pin them in place. Summoning his courage, he stripped his tunic from his upper body and seized Tom's hand in his own. "Touch me. Please." John thought Tom was going to refuse until he used his free hand to reach out. SYNOPSIS: Refugees of a dead planet, the Zen are grateful the people of Earth are willing to offer them a new home. Executive Orders from the White House declare America a safe-haven for any of the shapeshifting aliens as long as they follow three basic rules: 1. Zen must take a human appearance. 2. Zen must register with human names at Social Services. 3. Zen must find paid work or volunteer to help their country. Two friends declare themselves "married" during their registration without realizing they are now legally bound to one another as a couple. Will New Americans John and Tom see their friendship turn into a romance or will they reject being accidentally married aliens?

“If you say my name, then I promise to give you a treat.” Isabella smiled coyly, biting her lip while twirling a lock of hair around her index finger. "Dad... why can't we just have sex in your room? Mom's not home, so..." Isabella's words were cut short as her stepfather silenced her with a firm hand over her lips, and in a swift, fluid motion, he spun her around, pressing her face against the wall. "No time for negotiation, my dear." He stated, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "I want to fuck you right here, right now. Bend over," he ordered. His palm was still covering her mouth as his other hand roamed downward, slipping past her lips to explore the depths of her body. Isabella gasped! *** Isabella Roland finds her world turned upside down when she was forced to move in with her estranged mother and stepfather after her beloved uncle’s death. On that very day, she broke up with her boyfriend and had a passionate one-night stand with a stranger—only to discover the next day that the man was her stepfather. They swore it would never happen again, but the pull between them was impossible to resist. "But what happens when they're caught in the act?" "Will their forbidden affair destroy everything they hold dear, or will it lead to something even more dangerous and enticing?"

“I'm not just the vampire king of tales, Ellie. I'm a talented artist.” Vanchure said with every stroke he made on the canvas with his paintbrush. “So you can either be the one posing on my couch, behind the canvas, or be the one whose blood I will use in replacement for paints.” In a mystical world named Shirlon, there was a division of two powerful mythical creatures, two great kingdoms, with two great rulers. Speaking of which were the Black Pack, the werewolves, and the Thorx Coven, the vampire with the respect of law and order. These two kingdoms had a ball of symbiosis where they worked hand in hand to maintain their stable world. The werewolves were considered as the soldiers, the ones left to do the tough and dirty jobs within both kingdoms. While the soldiers had the day and night to themselves, the vampire blossomed in the dark. The vampires were also known as Royalties. They've been known to have ancient riches, making them superior to the soldiers. In these two kingdoms, they had their kings. Eamonn, Alpha of Black Pack, and Vanchure, king of Thorx Coven. They had maintained the order of peace and had always set their boundaries between each other until Ellie came along. Ellie was born of the soldiers, just a commoner that the Alpha of her Pack proclaimed as a mate. Ellie was set on a path to rescue her missing sister from the hands of the vampire king, Vanchure. But on her first encounter with that handsome devil, her whole life takes a different turn.

At our bachelor party, Harry Cole, my fiance and I played Truth or Dare with his friends. We spun the bottle, and it stopped in front of Joanna, a woman he had known since childhood. The dare was to do the deed with the person placed right next to you, and Harry had been sitting beside her the entire evening. Feeling uncomfortable, I quickly said, “Why don’t you just pick Truth instead of Dare?” Joanna, however, did not back down. She sent me a look full of contempt and replied, “Don’t be such a prude, Suzie. It’s not that big of a deal. If I don’t mind, why should you?” She then looked at Harry. “Do you mind, Harry?” Everyone around us started cheering them on. Someone said, “Suzie can’t have fun to save her own life. If Harry doesn’t want to, I will gladly do it. Pick me, Joanna!” I grabbed Harry’s hand and turned to leave, but he flung my hand off. “What about Joanna? She has no one to help her if I leave. We’re about to get married, Suzie. Can’t I have one last night of freedom?” After saying that, he pinned Joanna under him, and his friends just cheered even more. I stared at him and Joanna. At that moment, I no longer saw a future for us.

When I arrived at my wedding in my bridal gown, I found an octagonal fighting ring set up in the center of the stage. My fiance, Derek Hale, was holding the hand of his "girl bro," Chloe Shaw. With a smile, he handed me a pair of boxing gloves and explained, "Vivian, this is a tradition from my hometown. The bride has to get into the ring and wrestle one of the groomsmen for good luck. I asked Chloe to go up. Just play along for a minute." Looking at Chloe, who was always acting frail and sickly, I did not think much of it and stepped straight into the ring. But the next second, she threw an extremely professional spinning kick and knocked me unconscious with a severe concussion on the spot. When I woke up, I was paralyzed in a hospital bed. Derek stood there holding Chloe's hand and said to me, "Our relatives and friends gave us so much wedding money. The wedding can't go on without a bride. Chloe is willing to take care of me in your place. You're so kind, Vivian. You won't mind, right?" Under the torture of humiliation and severe depression, I pushed my wheelchair off the rooftop of our wedding home. When I opened my eyes again, I was back one month before the wedding. I turned around and knocked on the door of a national-level kickboxing champion training base. "Coach, if I trained for a month, can I punch someone's head open?"

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

"Oh dark Jinn, come grant me a deal." Her voice echoed. Her heart hammers as her eyes met.... Ava Lina, a leader of the ocean made a deal with a Jinn to further brother life, Lucas after she migrated to land for survival What happens when the Jinn request for her hand in marriage to her clan's enemy, a Jinn? What happens when she finds her soon-to-be brother-in-law charming and irresistible? Will she be able to protect her loved ones even when evil is lurking at the corner?