Book Buying Addicts Anonymous Novels & Stories

He had never felt so desperate all his life yearning for more of a woman's taste, seriously Mariana was a special flavor. Now he was so sure that Mariana Romano is bad for him, so bad for him. She was a sweet silent addiction

Making my way to the basement, I hoped it was clean for our new guest. Bella's POV: "So, I had a few shots of alcohol on Saturday, and I didn't relapse, right? Because I mean, I came here for my drug addiction," I asked the group, and Grace smiled sweetly at me. "Well, you see, addiction is addiction. It doesn't really matter what you came here for." "So what now? My 6-month clean mark has gone back to zero," I asked, disbelief coloring my voice. Did people even understand how long 6 months was to get out of a bad habit of yours?

Never did anyone withhold anything from me if we looked past these men's strange need to make decisions for me and decide which room I should stay in. I knew it wasn't fair that my mom could not help it. That she had reached a point in her addiction, it had become an incurable disease. But I couldn't help but feel worthless. There had always been something more important than me. Parties, men, friends, a gig, a concert, or a meeting. She called them meetings, but I learned as I got older that it was just a bunch of people getting high on whatever they had managed to get their hands on together. It was a weird little support group of some kind where they helped each other get a fix.

Me: Weren’t you supposed to wait for me to text or call? Nigel: You’re with your dad, aren’t you? Me: Please don’t take any more chances. Nigel: I have good news. I went to a Gamblers Anonymous. It was good. I’m going to do this Star. I’m going to beat this addiction. Me: I’m so proud of you. Nigel: I want to make you proud of me again. Me: Let me text you when I finish with Dad. Nigel: Missing you like crazy.

The woman, who served as the chairperson, asked, her warm and understanding eyes locked onto mine. I felt my throat tighten, a mix of anxiety and relief flooding through me. I awkwardly waved at the diverse group of faces that turned their attention towards me. "Hi, everyone," I began, my voice trembling ever so slightly, "I'm Cindy, and I guess I'm here because... well, I'm an addict, but it's not like I'm a hardcore one." My voice steadied as I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "I mean, I have my sober moments, but lately, it's been a struggle. I've been feeling this pull, this urge to go down that dark path again, and I really don't want to."

"I know you have been stalking me. How long has it been going on like that? To meet your grandfather, you stoop this low, like paying those homeless people there to kill me? What? Did you plan to meet him in the morgue or graveyard?" Her back stiffened as Bash used that word. Graveyard. It triggered a memory that she had to shake away from her mind. "It's your...mental breakdown talking. It's okay. I can feel you." She lowered her gaze, not wanting Bash to see her red-rimmed eyes. Trying hard to keep her emotions at bay, she ranted, "That is normal after what happened to you in that street. People there can be violent because of poverty, unemployment, and addiction that an addict can't get r

he blurts quietly as we walk towards Avery’s car. “I’m going to be brutally honest here. Any recovered addict may relapse if he doesn’t have the will or the needed support. At the beginning of the recovery, one needs support because the will stems from the support and you’re at the beginning. You still need support to keep going. You need it a lot and I’m going to give you all the support I can give you. Not just me. Your mum, your sister, Owen, and Lisa are more than willing to provide you with all the support you may need, so you don’t need to worry.

" She asked him. "I just want someone to keep me company. Not just anyone, I want Paige to keep me company. I enjoy her company, it helps keep my mind away from Lakeview. Her presence somehow seems to be helping with my addiction. Maybe I can start therapy again, and having her around, who knows, I might actually stand a chance at redemption." He told her. Anna was shook at the rate of revelation she just heard. She walked up to her brother, and squatted in front of him.

This was some kind of nightmare. But the cold leather beneath me and the steady hum of the engine made it real. Too real. I’d been sold—by my own flesh and blood. We pulled up to Arthdal Strike. From the outside, it looked like just another club, the kind you’d pass by with a second glance—big building, neon lights flickering, a line of expensive cars parked out front. But as they hauled me out and led me through the entrance, the truth of the place hit me.

He said, kissing her cheek as she pulled back to look at him. She was so sad, but his words were like a salve for her wounds. "Inhibitors? W... Where did you get them from and why are they here?" "I asked Silvia for them. I was in a rut ten days back at night, so I hurried here and had the inhibitors until I calmed down," he said. Her chin wobbled, her lips quivered, and more tears dripped down her eyes. Angela was crying full-blown now as she hid her face behind her palms causing him to panic.