Boner Alert Novels & Stories

Bjorn added for good measure, “we were just finishing up when you crashed the party.” Williamson didn’t look impressed. “Yeah, I heard you finishing up.” Bjorn broke into a big grin. Why do men do that– even in a moment of danger, they act like conquering heroes when their promiscuity is recognized by other males? “Look,” Williamson continued. “We got called out on a 10-70, that’s a prowler call. Someone must have seen you creeping around in the graveyard and thought you looked suspicious.” “But you added another call number,” Bjorn inquired, “What was that other one you said?”

If only there was a way humans could see the future, see what was to happen before it happened, our lives would be so much better! Unfortunately for us we’re all doomed! It was a hundred years ago in New Orleans... I remember because I was there. This isn’t something I read in any history book or something I heard on the news. This is a true tale of how I became a bloodsucker! ********* I was tired of watching the movie, it bored me out and I had a lot on my mind, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was feeling choked up with my own thoughts I just had to go outside for some fresh air there was no other way to it.

I'm itchy, trying to peep straining my neck,my eyes are glued on a small room with papers littered everywhere. Cracking sound of door opening makes the hair on my neck stand up, jolting up and I stand straight with my eyes on the floor, spice and clean aftershave fills the air, moving my eyes towards the source, tying a white towel down his lower hip, I deep v line is exposed runs down the low hanged towel, my eyes wondered up, his abdomen is bare droplets of water slips his tone muscular chest, it all muscle lean dark muscle. Moving my eyes up, I'm horrified and quickly look down shyly.

As if that wasn't enough, she added, "I've got a million followers online. If you dare side with her, I'll expose all of you. I'll dig up your family's past so deep you won't have a shred of dignity left." Bolton, sitting in Dad's arms, shouted, "Money! It's mine. Give me the money. Give it to me!" Cameras flashed as countless reporters snapped photos. Onlookers had their phones out, and they probably uploaded everything to social media. One of the bodyguards frowned and raised his voice at Abby and the others. "That's enough! Shut up!" With one hand on her hips, Abby raised her phone and said smugly, "Look at this, everyone! Classic capitalist guard dogs—snarling and snapping like they own

B operator) “”.

I have been reborn, and I happened to return to a point in my life just as Giorgo Romero, the Don, was about to get attacked. After snapping back to my senses, I gingerly placed a hand on my very swollen pregnant belly. My baby was still alive. It still wasn't too late. Amidst the chaos, I took off the emergency alert ring from my finger and threw it into the trash can not too far away from me. The Don was exposed and vulnerable amidst the crowd that was completely out of control. The terrorist had already broken past all defences. His finger was already on the detonator and he rushed up to the Don.

We even have a hard time going back to Rosie’s house. The ding sound from my phone caught our attention. Rosie picked it up from the coffee table and knitted my brow looking at it. “Since when did you have Bonnie’s number?” I shrugged, “not sure. What I remember is his first message was threatening me not to lay any fingers on you.” From: Bonnie ‘No funny business while I’m not around!’ I playfully scoffed and show her dearest friend’s text. It caused Rosie to laugh and send him a voice note.

Fast relief. Reply YES to receive options. Nori stared at the screen until the letters blurred. Her stomach turned. She hadn’t searched for help. She hadn’t told anyone—no one except Bea, and Bea would never send something like this. Bea didn’t talk like a clinic. Bea didn’t say “fast relief.” Nori’s hands shook harder. They know, she realized. They can tell. The Watcher’s voice echoed in her mind: Fractures draw attention. Nori deleted the message.

~Fallon~ It came through at 2:14 a.m. I was lying in bed, the covers tangled around my legs, phone screen dimmed but still lighting my face in that soft, blue glow. I wasn’t really reading anything—just scrolling, absently. Old emails. Forgotten texts. Headlines I’d stopped clicking on weeks ago. Then the alert lit up at the top of my screen. “Credit alert: $2,000,000.00 USD from Reid Callahan.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t assume anything. I’ll tell him.” “Good. Be safe and get back here. I want details on the sex.” “I’m not giving you details.” “Yes you are.” “No, I’m n—” the door slammed and she could hear Parker laughing from the other side. “Corrupt.”