Books About Stalkers And Obsession Novels & Stories

“I thought I was going to go crazy. I thought the world was about to end for me. I couldn't move on, so I stalked you, watched you from afar. That night, I followed you from Richard’s house down to the bar. I wasn't supposed to show myself then. I was supposed to wait until after the divorce, but seeing you drown yourself in alcohol, I just couldn't sit back and watch.” I listened to him with all my attention because these were things I never thought I would hear him say. Me rejecting him? Him not moving on? Stalking me? It felt like my brain was going to explode from all the information that has been dumped on me. “But I see it now.” He went down on his knees to wash my legs, and my breath

Those horrific, disgusting bastards needed to pay for what they’d done. “All of the people affected were young…” Phillip began, with a timid expression on his face, “…and they had their whole lives ahead of them. All of these murders were done in the same city, and drugs are connected to each of these murders.” He broke off his sentence, shaking his fists angrily. “The very city in which the Russian Mafia own their corrupt enterprise, Indigo Limited. The very city where they conduct their operations!” “Boss, I understand,” I mumbled.

It was completely dark inside. Just when I kept my foot inside, I was grabbed quickly and pushed against the door. I felt a weight on top of my body. A hand clicked the knob beside me to lock it from inside. The intoxicating fragrance of lotus flower and heavy breaths were falling all over me. My wolf was almost losing its mind. I was still pressed against the door. I could feel Zen struggling with his wolf to keep it in his control. Suddenly he asked in a hoarse voice, "What do you think you're doing?"

“I would remember shoveling the driveway in freezing cold. Or lifting the airfryer—it’s heavy. Something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong.” “I said, let’s take it easy,” Sam says, low and measured. He grabs my hand and leads me into the library, steadying me. “Step by step. We write it down. Finish our homework. Baby steps.” “When did this stalking start?” Tessa asks as we settle at a corner table in the back, the library unusually quiet. Dust motes float in the sunlight slanting through tall windows. Sam slams his criminology textbook onto the table and flips open his laptop. “Let’s map it out. Timeline.”

I said to him and he sighed. "I know it sounds crazy but I can't shake all this off Liam, I just can't. I feel like I'm slowly losing my sanity and it feels like someone's trying to slowly drive me mad with misery. I'm under investigation for an attempted murder when I can't even hurt a darn fly. I lost my job, my reputation that I may never get back and now I've lost my cafe and another murder case is about to surround me cause they will investigation and since I already have a pending case, they'll add me to the list of possible suspects. Tell me now Liam, am I really not cursed?" I asked, heaving a sigh of frustration as it dawned on me that I am indeed a misfortune like mom always told m

Let them build up to an incinerating level, then fuck them -- it's so worth it. Stalkers ignore ROs. That's okay. Now you can legally trap them. They'll do whatever you want. Not because they are afraid of you. It is an RO for God's sake -- one night in jail, maybe. No, they'll do whatever sex act you request because that's why they are stalking you in the first place; the sensual/emotional connection.

Genuinely, innocently excited. Completely oblivious to the horror show that had just unfolded before my eyes. He had no idea. I wanted to grab him, shake him, and yell, 'That’s not just the new CEO, George! That’s my stalker. That’s the man who went to jail for me. That’s my fucking stepbrother.' But the boldness never came. I had kept way too many secrets away from my dear husband, and I didn't even know how to begin spilling this one.

“I like knowing you want to see me.” “You don’t understand,” he growled, pressing into me from behind while I fumbled to unlock my door. “This feeling is not normal. Or natural. I haven’t even known you a week. How can I become so attached so fast? That’s borderline stalker behavior, isn’t it?” “Well… Stalkers are unwanted, for one thing. And I’m actually a fan of whatever this is you’re experiencing, so… That suggestion’s off the table. Obsession, on the other hand—”

“In my world, there is no such thing as legal or illegal. There is only permission… and consequences.” One of the men shifted nervously. Zandrei’s eyes darkened and his lips curved into a faint smile. “If a man steals with a gun, he is called a criminal. If a man steals with documents, signatures, and government seals…” He tilted his head, letting the silence stretch. “He is called authority.” Zandrei folded his hands and chuckled. “But we are neither criminals… nor officials.” His eyes glinted. “We are the consequence." He tapped his fingers against the table marking each word.

“Who the hell thinks it’s okay to watch someone from the shadows? That’s not affection. That’s obsession. It’s creepy and messed up.” He blinked at me, like I’d spoken in a language he didn’t understand. “I’m not a psycho,” he said slowly, as though he was trying to convince himself as much as me. “Is it wrong that I find you pretty?” “Finding me pretty and stalking me are two very different things,” I said, my voice cold enough to cut glass. “Now let go. I don’t have time for this nonsense I’m going home.” I wrenched free and shoved past him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how badly my hands were shaking. My arm throbbed where he’d gripped it too tightly, the bruises alread