Corny Lines Novels & Stories

And everything fell apart. Text spiraled into chaos. Paragraphs rearranged like they’d been shoved through a blender. Sentences split mid-thought, fraying into half-formed words and symbols that made no sense. Webdings. Symbols instead of letters. Wingdings. Arrows. Skulls. A tiny plane. My fingers froze. What the hell? I clicked to another document. Same thing. Panic started small. Just a pinch in my gut. Then I opened my midterm essay. Gone. Or rather—there, but mangled. Whole sections missing. Arguments fragmented into dead-end tangents. Sentences rearranged to form gibberish. It read like someone had gutted it with dull scissors and sewn it back together with thread from a different lang

Sharp jawline, green eyes that seemed to see too much, and an air of confidence that should have been annoying but somehow wasn't. "Actually, I was just leaving." Emma started gathering her things, but her laptop bag chose that moment to rebel. The zipper stuck, her notebook tumbled to the floor, and her pen rolled under the stranger's feet. He crouched down to retrieve her pen, and Emma caught sight of the title on her fallen notebook's cover: "Heat Between the Lines - Draft 3." Her heart stopped. That was her working title—the one she'd scribbled on the cover without thinking, the one that revealed exactly what kind of book she was struggling to write.

My leg were weak and my body was aching to be satisfied. "Ahh... Mmmm. Fuck! I moaned feeling some horny juice below my abdomen. Then suddenly my eyes bulged open taking me away from my dreamy state. Some tough hands were circling all the the way to my waist and down to my cunt. I turned just immediately to see who it was and my jaw fell at the man standing before me.

"You don't remember this cufflink either?" I watched Imogen's reaction closely. To my relief, there was no trace of guilt in her eyes, only shock. "Why do you have that cufflink?" she demanded. "I told Lauren to..." Lauren interrupted frantically, practically shouting. "This man is spouting nonsense! That's a cheap knock-off! He's scamming everyone! Don't believe a word!" That was when something clicked for me. The three of us were arguing, yet Lauren, an outsider, got so worked up, as if she were terrified that something might be exposed.

His hand brushing his knee for just a second before he straightens, grinning like nothing’s wrong. No one else seems to notice. The fans roar, the scoreboard lights up, and the cheer squad waves their pompoms in perfect rhythm. But I see it. I scribble a note in my margins: Reckless. Maybe I can work with that.