روايات وقصص ضمن Autumn Themed Books For Adults

They’re deciding which of Autumn’s favorite things to pack for her trip. “What’s that?” Neveah asks, her voice soft but curious, as she points to a white parchment in Autumn’s small hands. “It’s a drawing of my mommy, me, and Daddy,” Autumn says, cradling the paper like a precious treasure. Her voice is filled with pride. “Look, Gammy, I painted it too!” I watch as Autumn carefully unfolds the drawing, holding it out for Neveah to see. It’s a simple picture, the kind only a child could create—stick figures with bright splashes of color and hearts floating in the sky.

"I Don't Want Anyone Else To Have Your HEART, Kiss Your LIPS, Or Be In Your ARMS Because That's Only My PLACE" MOHINI .. **A Few Days Later:** Autumn, the season of joy, was coming to an end. The colorful falling leaves, cool weather, and vibrant festivals that brought stunning warm shades of yellow and orange to nature were about to give way to the approaching winter. The weather was getting colder.

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When he rolled off me he laughed and said, "That was okay, right? Not every girl makes a big deal out of her first time." I hated how wet that memory still made me. I should have felt angry, used, worthless. Instead my pussy kept throbbing, begging for something more. Something real. Something that would break me and put me back together. That was why I started searching online late at night. BDSM. Domination. Submission. The words alone made my nipples hard. I read stories about girls who got tied up, spanked until they cried, then fucked so deep they screamed. Men who knew how to take control. Men who made you feel like their favorite toy and their most precious slut at the same time. I wa

Otherwise, I would suddenly realize how badly I had strained my eyes. I arranged the flowers, petals, and leaves I had prepared between spring and summer, layering them into a composition of gray and blue. “There. Maybe I should add a yellow pansy here and make it look like the moon.” One advantage of living alone was that I could talk to myself without lowering my voice. The disadvantage was that I seemed to be doing it more and more often. I was making bookmarks as Halloween gifts for the children at the library. We had made pressed flowers together during a summer workshop, so I thought they would probably enjoy receiving them.

No one has found the bodies yet, though, so theres still a lingering hope out there that they're alive. I sigh as I crawl under the thick quilt, flicking on the lamo beside me as I pull out my latest find at Barnes and Nobels: The Winter Garden by the famous Kristin Hannah. This woman's books are truly amazing. Then, after an hour long reading session, I find my eyes beginning to shut against my will, so I set down the book on the bedside table and shut off the lamp. ~ The next morning...

*Poppy* I was fidgeting in the backseat, clutching my documents. Outside the window, the trees merged into a beautiful landscape of colors, from dark greens to browns, oranges, and reds. Autumn has come. I loved this time of year the most. Not only did nature spoil us with colors, but the air smelled different. Evening walks seemed more romantic. Morning runs gave me energy, and pumpkin dishes were one of my favorites. Not to mention autumn evenings with wine and reading by the warm fireplace.

Adults moved with purpose, heads bowed against the rain, collars turned up not merely against the cold but against something less visible — an unease that had grown, slow and silent, over the years. At the corner of Hawthorne Lane stood Wilson’s Books & Bindery, its painted sign creaking gently in the wind. The windows glowed amber against the gray world outside, offering warmth to anyone willing to step in from the storm. Inside, shelves stretched from polished wooden floor to ceiling, heavy with stories bound in cloth and leather. The air smelled of paper, ink, and old timber — the comforting perfume of imagination and memory intertwined.

After we ate, we moved to the big couch in front of the stone fireplace. The snow outside started falling harder. “The forecast says it might get bad tonight,” Brandon said, glancing out the window. “Good thing we’re stocked up.” Yve smiled and poured me another glass of wine. “Perfect for a cozy weekend. No work, no stress… just us.” A few hours later, the wind howled outside and the snow was coming down in thick sheets. We played cards, laughed, and drank more wine. Yve got sleepy first and kissed Brandon goodnight before heading to their bedroom.

The past few years of Autumn's life have been like a life out of a storybook, it was too good to be true. Once upon a time, she was this lonely blind woman trying to push her way up to the surface, until she was reduced by a man who too was surrounded by his own problems.