Cozy Bedroom Nook Novels & Stories

Amber Walker and her older brother, Jake , have an abusive father. One night her brother's bestfriend , Liam , sees her crying and climbs through her bedroom window to comfort her. That one action Sparks a love/hate relationship that spans for over eight years. What happens when Amber starting viewing Liam in a different way? What happens when her brother Jake , doesn't want whatever it is to hold on between them? Find out in the Darkest Night

Nadia spent years worshipping the hockey captain Raxon Boyd from afar, never imagining the man behind her bedroom posters would one day become her husband and yet…her greatest heartbreak. But beneath the flashing arena lights, jealous lovers, and the crumbling Boyd empire, a murder lurks at the center of it all. And when Raxon’s dangerously charming brother returns, Nadia realizes falling for the wrong Boyd brother might cost her far more than her heart.

I believe it is yours Renee" the way my name rolled off his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure right into my core, causing my legs to squeeze together, but I still couldn’t bring myself to look into his eyes, he extended his hand revealing my lost necklace. "It smells like you." His voice almost breathless. I could feel his chest touch my back. He didn't need to be this close to put a necklace on me. His smell was overpowering me, my legs felt weak causing me to lean into him a little more. “You run really fast; you know?" He said with a laugh, he was so close I could feel his breath fan my ear then I could have sworn he brought his head even closer to the nook of my neck and took a deep breath of my scent. My breath hitched in my lungs, and I squeezed my eyes closed telling myself that this must just be a dream. “There, back where it belongs.” I awkwardly replied. "Thank you, Alpha," I felt like every cell in my body was vibrating. I was becoming very aroused, and it was embarrassing if I barely moved, it might have caused me to moan in pleasure. What would he think of me, being so aroused in his presence.

A woman who couldn't even produce a single egg for three years. You are just a useless piece of skin.* The words echoed in my head, a vicious, repeating loop that shattered my mind completely. I stumbled back onto my feet, my body shaking so violently I could barely control my limbs. I didn't grab a coat. I didn't grab my shoes. I just ran. I pushed open the bedroom door and sprinted down the dark hallway, my bare feet slapping against the cold hardwood stairs. I heard Lola's bedroom door click open as I reached the foyer, her voice calling out to me in a frightened whisper, but I couldn't stop. I threw open the heavy front door and ran out into the freezing, pitch black night. The gravel of the driveway cut into the soles of my feet, but I didn't feel the physical pain. The agony in my chest was too loud. I ran down the long, winding road leading away from the estate, the dark trees looming over me like monsters. The sky was heavy, and a bitter wind whipped through my oversized sweater, but I was entirely numb. I just wanted to die.

My wife's childhood guy best friend came back to the country. He raised a toast to me, thanking me for taking care of her. I turned him down, but my wife blamed me for embarrassing him. To punish me, she stopped our daughter's treatment and demanded I kneel and apologize to her childhood friend. That night, our daughter's condition got worse. I held her as her body kept twitching, calling my wife over and over. But I could never get through. In my arms, our daughter's body grew colder. Meanwhile, her childhood friend posted a picture of them looking cozy on his social media. "Even the northern lights can't outshine you by my side."

"I can't take it anymore, babe. Faster! Oh, people from your country feel the best!" I hear weird noises coming from my son's bedroom in the middle of the night. I secretly push his door open to see him watching a movie in bed. He has a woman's underwear on his face, and his hand moves beneath the sheets. When I take a closer look, I see that the protagonist of the movie is my son. His female counterpart is his classmate's mother!

On our wedding anniversary night, my husband, Lucian Moore, comes home with a seven-year-old orphan named Chloe Martin. He even hands her the necklace he bought me for our anniversary and lets her play with it like a toy. Because of her, my son, Ryan Moore, shouts at me for the first time. "You're a bad woman! I don't want you to be my mommy!" I watch the three of them sitting together, warm and cozy, and I say nothing. Instead, I buy a ticket to leave the country. At first, they think I'm just acting out and will come home in a few days. But when they return from Feanland after celebrating Chloe's birthday, they find out I've joined a ten-year classified research project and will not come back again. At that moment, they fall apart.

Demetria Hernandez wants one thing. To grow her cozy bakery without getting tangled in the world of the rich and entitled. Then she crashes into Marion Whitfield, a billionaire with a razor-sharp tongue, a dangerous smirk, and zero patience for her attitude. She hopes never to see him again. Fate laughs. When she’s hired for a high-profile charity gala, she discovers the client’s son is none other than the arrogant stranger she can’t stand… and can’t stop thinking about. Clashing becomes their routine. Chemistry becomes their problem. And when jealousy turns deadly, Marion realizes one brutal truth. Money can’t protect him from losing the one woman he was never supposed to want. In a world of luxury and lies, love is the one thing neither of them can control.

To raise funds for earthquake victims, I shed my business suit and put on a simple vest, choosing to live-stream while offering a designated driver service. At 3:00 am, I take on my final job for the day—and end up running into Owen Kramer, a former high school classmate. Reeking of alcohol, he tosses the money for my service onto the ground and spits on it before telling me to pick it up. "You were the top of our class, weren't you? Why have you been reduced to working as a gig driver, huh? You need money, right? Go on, then. Pick it up. That 50 is yours." Unbeknownst to him, his nasty behavior is being live-streamed online for everyone to see. Also, I just so happen to be the CEO he's been trying to cozy up to.

For five years, I quietly supported my boyfriend, helping him rise from a lawyer's assistant to a partner at a top-tier law firm. At the annual awards ceremony, I was thrilled, ready to celebrate publicly and surprise him. But then, he walked on stage with a female coworker, their behavior cozy and intimate. "Cade owes his success to my brilliant strategies behind the scenes," Caitlyn boasted. Cade smiled, echoing her words, "Absolutely, without Caitlyn, I wouldn't be where I am today." The audience erupted in applause, congratulating them. I stood at the back of the crowd, frozen. Leaving the venue, I called my assistant. "Cut off all networking support for Cade Gilliam. End all cooperation. That shady case he took on? Stop smoothing things over. Let him face the consequences."