Choya Stories Novels & Stories

-Yes, yes, so tell me. Tears rolled down Joaquin's face, then he told his brother. -When my mom died, I was seven years old, so what I saw and heard I was never going to forget, with time and asking around I learned the truth about my mom, between what I saw and heard and what they told me, I knew that what I remembered was true when I was little I refused to accept the truth, but with the years and my dad's behavior I came to accept it and that made me even more bitter, when this guy, let me tell him guy, because dad doesn't deserve to be told, this guy bought my mom, when she was still a little girl, she didn't want him, but he had given money and land to his family, he had given her money

“Move out of my way. I have work to do” “Would you please tell me’’ Keith blocked Martina’s way and insisted her to answer. “Where is my favorite meal? I thought you’d bring something from outside that’s why I didn’t prepare dinner for today.” Martina shouted and moved Keith from her way “But what made you think that I'll bring dinner today?” “This gold chain!” She held the shiny chain in her hand angrily. “I haven't received my salary yet. This is just a gift that I bought for you from my savings. I don’t have any money I promise.”

Elena's POV Suppressing my sobbing was the best way to ease the pain as tears flowed down my eyes. I sniffled and checked my phone again, my eyes widening at the lies the bloggers told online. As I glanced around the car, a sense of unease crept over me. I murmured to myself, 'How cruel can they be?' But at that moment, I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched by the newsmen. The pain that was threatening to overwhelm me was nothing compared to the blisters I had from the hot water burn.

Whattt? You are a pretty ass bad bitch! Are you sure ayo would be able to keep his hands to himself? Use a condom sha.🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️😑 I am not ready to be a godmother. Bel. godmother kor.🙄🙄 Me nko?🙄🙄 You wan dey whine cultist?😕😗😒 Amara don't use condom o. It's more enjoyable without a condom.🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️

Just when I thought she would orgasm without making a sound, a choked moan finally escaped her lips and the presenter froze. I did too and so did Lena. Fuck. “What was that?”

She gave him a chance and he giggled excitedly like a little boy even though he was well above his thirties. "Once upon a time, Seven tribes lived within their territories but one of the tribe wanted to rule the other tribes.." "Boring," She commented. She had heard the story so many times it was becoming a nuisance to her. She turned to leave and the storyteller stopped her, "I have another interesting story!" She halted but did not look at the storyteller, "It's about a tree that grew out of Alexander the Great's remains and its called the Khoyata tree." At this point, she could no longer wait and listen to the nuisance.

Prologue Kanua Village, Zambia; January, 1991 There was a murderous glow in the eyes of the ten year old Luyando Chimeko as she stood watch over her drunk and passed out father snoring away on the mat inside the tent that a good Samaritan had lent to them which they had come to regard as their home for the past one week.

Josy will it ever really end ? I felt numb when I left Josy's office . When will all this end? My troubles ,my pain , my tears . Don't let your heart freeze, stop remembering memories so the mind will be at peace .Start to walk away to get rid of risks, forget the past, begin where you'd last, Again,make sure that you'll never crush, for your heart not be scratched . Don't be afraid to fall in love again , just assure that lessons will be gained, Don't put your heart in pain ,Unless, yourself will inclose into the chain . A poem by Vang .

There was one solitary, big book on a low table between them. "The title of the tale is The Binding of Autumn," he began, his voice an entrancing whisper just in harmony with the shriek of the fire. “It's the tale of a harvest god who offers a mortal woman a choice: one night of absolute freedom for one year of unimaginable riches for her people." He didn't move as his eyes met hers. "The consent is the matter at hand. It must be freely bestowed, not coerced, and whispered three times into the skin of his throat." “Do you have any idea what sort of story you're going to be reading me tonight?”

The thought made her pulse quicken, like she was holding a secret that wasn’t meant to be found. She hesitated only a moment before sitting cross-legged on the floor and flipping the cover open. Inside, in messy handwriting, was a title scrawled across the first page: “Collected Stories — From Women, For Women.” Chloe blinked. The handwriting was feminine, rushed, and almost secretive. She turned the page and read the introduction, scrawled in looping letters: