All The Sinners Bleed Kindle Novels & Stories

I backed away, hugging myself, shaking so hard my teeth chattered. “Kyle…” Tears spilled down my cheeks. “Don’t let them take me.” The door burst open with a crack, and I jumped. My parents stormed in, their faces were red with rage. Behind them were Kyle’s parents; their eyes were cold. And then the others: men and women in black robes, collars glinting, rosaries hanging. A group I never expected. Bishop Callahan. Mother Superior. Monsignor Rivera. And two other priests whose faces I knew from years of services. A holy firing squad.

Didn't know how to return from this. But Rea's sobbing kept filling the clearing again and again. There was no theatrical suffering in it. No wailing blame at the world. This was a pure, honest collapse. A girl crying not because she was weak—but because she couldn't understand why she always had to pay for sins that weren't her own.

(DARK SINS II) DREAD AND DESPAIR. That is just a few of the needed ingredients to have that perfect greed to be born into this very world and book. And just how will that be? Simple, feed the vessel with the lies and let her experience such dread and despair firsthand. “Right?” Drawing a cunning smile as the three of them are watching the birth of the sin through the sacrificial lamp that is Chantal. Alliah giggles in her seat as she is amused by the plan JK pulled at hand.

He didn’t even know it was me as I guided him gently through the crowd. Our bodies were so close together with his arm heavy on my shoulders. It was as if he couldn’t quite steady himself. That led me to suspect that there might be drugs running around in his system. It was a common occurrence here, spiking the drinks of unsuspecting men. He had fallen victim. Better to be a victim with me than with a stranger he knew nothing about. A smirk curved my lips. I liked this side of him, harsher, more desperate, but not in any way weak.

“That’s… not appropriate.” “Is it a sin to notice beauty, Sister? God made you beautiful. Seems wasteful to hide it under all that black cloth.” Each session chipped away at her armor. Marcus was clever, articulate, and disarmingly honest about his past—violence born from a brutal childhood, choices that spiraled out of control. He didn’t ask for pity. He asked for understanding. And in return, he offered her something dangerous: undivided attention, raw masculinity, and words that lingered in her mind long after she returned to the quiet safety of the convent.

I was bleeding really hard. He immediately lifted me off himself completely then he rushed and stood up at once. The second his eyes landed on the amount of blood all over his body, he glanced up at me quickly and his entire face shifted. "Are you okay? Why are you—why are you bleeding like this?" his voice came out low and unsteady, nothing like the commanding, rough tone he'd been using this entire time.

That's the beauty of power: the threat is enough. The room exhales when I'm a few steps away and I hold back the laugh that wants to bubble out of me. Pathetic. I don't glance back. I don't acknowledge the whispers. I built this city on silence and consequences, and everyone knows the rules: I don't forget. I don't forgive. Not anymore. They think the monster makes me untouchable. They're wrong. The monster just keeps me alive. For now. Authors note - Okay, before you jump in — let’s set the vibe.

I stutter. “Your blood.” I shake my head. “No.” “You are descending the stairs of denial again, Faye.” He sighs, throwing the blade into the table. My eyes are glued at the spot pulsing gently with black blood. It is the same I have seen with the vampires, and other creatures in Alkhemi—the dead. “No, i-it’s…” “It is black because you have died, and have been reborn through Sin,” he says. “Like every one of his creations.”

Leo’s POV I held my breath so tightly my lungs burned. Dust and forgotten socks tickled my nose under Lyra’s bed, but I didn’t dare move a muscle. My heart was racing so fast. “Ken?” Lyra’s voice was soft, laced with confusion. The bedroom light flicked on, casting long shadows that barely missed my hiding spot. "Why does it smell like…?” Oh god! It was definitely the smell of sex. The sheets above me were ruined, stained with the evidence of how hard Ken had pounded me earlier. His low, convincingly sleepy voice rumbled from the bed cutting her words short.“Hey babe… you’re back early”

Rico has spent months resisting the urge to ruin his personal assistant. Sweet, untouched, and completely off-limits—until now. Seeing her in his club, bathed in red light, eyes wide as she takes in the depravity around her, is the final straw. She doesn’t have to speak; he can see it in her face, in the way her breath catches. She’s curious. Tempted. Desperate for someone to show her just how good sin can feel. And he’s done pretending it won’t be him.