Corrupt Books Novels & Stories

I asked, staring at the flash drive. "Yeah," Cain said, plugging the drive into Petra’s laptop. "I’ve been building my own separate file for a long time. Let me show you what is actually going on here." What Cain showed us next was far deeper and more dangerous than anything Petra had managed to find in the archives. He opened a series of encrypted folders, and a massive map of documents filled the screen. It was a structured corruption system stretching across years and years. It showed massive financial manipulation, systematic administrative interference, and completely controlled scholarship redirections embedded inside the very core of Blackridge.

“And if she’s using physical conduits, there must be texts that describe counter-rituals. The old priests wrote about spiritual cleansing. Possession-breaking.” “Possession?” The word burned in my throat. Lira nodded slowly. “That’s what this is, Damon. The first thread of it.” Rayna exhaled, steady but cold. “Then we find the thread and cut it before she weaves the rest.” “Somewhere in this library,” Lira said, scanning the endless shelves, “there’s a volume called ‘Divine Inversions.’ It’s one of the oldest texts on corrupted bindings. Half myth, half manual. I haven’t read it yet; the last archivist sealed it after the war of the twin gods. Thanks to Wendrah we have it here. But if the se

I had almost forgotten that too, if not for Tina’s harsh reminder of trying to kill her. Lily walked in, while I hovered behind like the gloomy shadow I am. I was getting so uncomfortable for some reason. I am sure Dom must have told her I had a huge mental breakdown which shattered me when she got poisoned. Fuck. “It looks like you’re enjoying this book a lot, Cora.” Lily smiled. Cora’s eyes were glued on the pages. “This is so touching, I’m almost in tears, honey. I can’t put the book down. Difficult, broken romance is so sad yet beautiful at the same time.”

Edward felt as if air had left his lungs. Stumbling backward, he roughly rubbed his hands over his eyes and then gazed again at the mattress. The stain was still there, dry and red, screaming her innocence which he snatched yesterday. His stomach began to churn into uncomfortable knots, hands beginning to sweat. "Fuck" He cursed in his think accent, brushing his hand through his messed hair. The severity of the sin he committed was beginning to sink in, making indefinite remorse to fill his veins.

He held it to me as if to offer me more, and I shook my head. “It’ll be okay.” He said, “It’s been long enough since you took the meds.” I shook my head again. I doubted I would even be able to finish this glass. Robust, my ass. This shit was hard. “The Corrupt are typically in positions of power.” He said as he sat the goblet down. I sat and mulled over what he said. “But not always. Some lie low, infiltrating like termites.” “So, like government?” I asked.

Or was the information Daniel gave me just a bullshit? It’s possible that he did it because he didn’t want to see me with another man. No, Corrine, I said in my heart. If you think like that, it’s the same as still having hope for Daniel. Don’t be a foolish girl. I stood up and pushed the stack of books to the edge of the table, then went back to the shelf I had visited earlier. Leaning against the wall, I looked at the row of books from a distance. They were all just old books with plain gray covers. There was only a publication year mentioned on the side of each book. It was impossible for me to read them all.

I took another book from a different author, which he, of course, immediately had a comment about. And when I opened another book, another of his random facts came once again. And again. And again, until all the books I had collected to read had been reduced to nothing more than the work of ‘amateurs’ who knew nothing about real-life events. With a loud thud, I stood up. “Pray tell, what book in this terrible library is actually worthy of your approval, Ser Orpheus? Because every single damned book I have opened is either incomplete or completely incorrect,” I said, clenching my jaw.

My hands are dusty, and I’m sick of the smell of musty old pages, and they’re just so boring – Page after page of history regarding shifter worship practices – who genuflected to this god, and how, and where, and for how long, and the minute changes in the practices… I groan, pushing my twentieth book away from me and looking dourly at the stack of about fifty still left in my pile. “Come on, Cora,” Roger says, sitting comfortably across from me, smirking at me over the edge of a neat little green text. “You’re supposed to be the smart one in the family. I thought you’d have more staying power than this.” “Ella’s smart,” I reply, immediately defensive. He nods, conceding the point. “But you

So Proserpina moves on to the next row, then the next one, and the next one, on and on until she was literally kneeling like a child on the floor when she finally comes across a book third to the last on the bottom row in between a skinny book and leather bound one; the book was silver-gray, small and light in her hands and the cover seemed to have some sort of glossy material in it as it twinkled when she turned it here and there… ‘Kind of a child’s storybook,’ she noted. The book was almost as big as her palm and seemed to have pages as what one would expect from a novelette. She carefully opens it up to the first page–not wanting to have a repeat of another destroyed book because a destro

Monalisa Smutty books were getting way too filthy for my taste lately. The couple in the one I was reading were twisted into a position that looked physically impossible, legs over shoulders, back arched at a brutal angle, the hero slamming into her so deep and hard it looked like he was trying to ruin her for any other man. The author deserved jail time. How the hell did someone even write something that dirty? And how was the heroine not cramping? I gripped my Kindle so tight my knuckles turned white, equal parts horrified and shamefully turned on, when the chaos downstairs exploded again. Bass vibrated through the floor. Loud laughter. Splashing. Drunken shouts.