Crazy Shower Thoughts Novels & Stories

My name is Violet. I was the consigliere to the Leon mafia family in New York, and I wrote the rules of this city’s underworld myself. Yet, the man I had kept by my side for ten years, Drake Leon, was now trampling all over them. Ten years was more than enough time for a stray dog to grow into a wolf that can stand on its own. A decade ago, he was hacked to pieces by enemies on the streets of Brooklyn. Covered in blood, he crawled to me like a dying dog. I took him in. I put a gun in his hand. I taught him the rules of the mafia. Step by step, using my position as the Leon mafia family’s consigliere, I groomed him to become the boss of the Manhattan port district. Ten years later, he controlled the most valuable port under the Leon family for me, and for another woman, he framed her in standing grace. When that girl named Lina showed up pregnant, wearing the blue diamond necklace my mother left me, and sat in the seat that was supposed to be mine, I didn’t lose my temper. Instead, I had someone take the pathology report from the hospital, along with the child, seal them in a gift box, and deliver them to Drake’s new estate. Half an hour later, the study door was kicked open. He stormed in, drenched in night rain, carrying the scent of gunpowder. The barrel of his gun pressed straight against my forehead. “Violet.” He stared at me, his eyes bloodshot. “You touch her child, and I’ll make sure you’re buried with her.” I stayed seated by the fireplace. I didn’t move. I simply pushed a document to the center of the table. “Don’t rush into madness.” I looked up at him and continued, “As of fifteen minutes ago, I’ve frozen three warehouses under your name, two shipping routes, and seven offshore accounts.” Only then did his expression finally change. I smiled faintly, my voice soft. “Drake, you seem to have forgotten something. The reason for your accomplishments today isn’t because you know how to pull a trigger. It’s because I allowed you to live.”

When I learned that the villain was a merman who dropped pearls whenever he cried, I took out the discarded pregnancy test stick from the trash can and headed toward the rooftop. "Well, how many babies do you merfolk have in one pregnancy? Do they eat fish food or baby formula?" Theo Atwater, who was attempting suicide, slipped and almost fell from the 18th floor. I shook my head with a sigh. "Forget it. I'll just throw the baby into the sea after giving birth." Later, when the baby was born, Theo was too scared to sleep, fearing that I would release the baby into the sea. When the female lead, Melody Carlisle, and the male lead, Reagan York, were arguing and came to see us, he was looking at our baby’s swimming results and roaring, "You're one of us merfolk. How could you be afraid of water?"

When I opened my eyes, I found myself supposedly transmigrated to some ancient era. Every morning, before light touched the sky, someone would yank me out of bed to haul trash, chop wood, and do whatever filthiest job needed doing. Somehow, I'd become the lowest-ranked servant in the entire estate. The estate lord's son would climb onto my back and ride me around the courtyard like some pet he was proud to show off. Anyone in the household could hit me, kick me, or shove me aside, and not a single soul would speak up. Five years passed like that, so awful that I almost lost my mind, as if I were living in hell. Then one day, a group of servants cornered me. They didn't bother hiding their intention. The moment I saw their faces, I knew I was in trouble. Fists flew, boots landed, and everything blurred. Just before I passed out, I heard them whispering, "We're going to kill him if we keep this up." "Come on. This place only looks like some old noble estate. It's not an actual one. If he dies here, we're the ones who'll get dragged to court!" "Relax. Ms. Shaw will handle it. The idiot pissed off her childhood sweetheart. Getting tricked into this place is exactly what he deserves." Fear swallowed everything, and the world went dark. When I woke again, the lady of the house had conveniently "returned from visiting her family." The lord threw a grand celebration with tables full of food, wine flowing, and musicians playing like nothing had happened. I carried dishes into the banquet hall and lifted my head. Her face was the same as my wife's, Melissa Shaw. I set the final dish down, stepped closer, and in a voice only she could hear, asked, "Ma'am… are you enjoying your little game?"

Mom had one rule, and she never let it go: one good deed a day. When I was little, I saved my allowance for an entire year to buy a doll. Then some girl beside me whispered that she wanted one too, and Mom ripped it out of my arms. "Do one good deed a day. Give her the doll." Later, I barely made it into the best high school in the county. I didn't even get to be happy before Mom told me she'd already signed me up for trade school. "Do one good deed a day. The girl who just missed the cutoff is poor. Give her your spot." Later, at trade school, my roommates stole every cent I had for food and rent. I called Mom, sobbing. "Do one good deed every day. Giving them your money still counts as doing something good." Later, I got a part-time job and ended up sold as a bride to some family way out in the sticks. I texted Mom, begging her to save me. Her reply popped up a second later. [Marriage means sticking it out. Give them a healthy baby boy, and that should cover ten years of good deeds.]

Cleo Carrington used to be Northvale's brightest spark—wild, fearless, impossible to pin down. And then she married Damian Joubert. The most controlled, rigid heir in their world. Damian ran like a machine. Perfect standards. Zero slack. And he expected the same from his wife. Cleo loved noise—clubs, music, bodies moving. He had every venue in the city blacklist her. She loved freedom—the blazing Afriyan sun, the northern lights in Icelorn. She raced cars. She jumped out of planes. He took her passport. Shut it all down.

Psychology student and half-breed Eveline Hart didn't want a happily-ever-after; she wanted a scandal. After catching her fiancé cheating on their engagement night, she spends one reckless night with a mysterious, devastatingly handsome stranger. By morning, she realizes just how badly she's miscalculated. The man in her bed is Lucian Vale—the Alpha heir to the Vale pack, the most sought-after neurosurgeon who just returned from a decade of exile, and her fiancé's formidable uncle. Lucian isn't just a stranger; he's the man holding the scalpel for her foster father's life-saving surgery. Walking away doesn't make things any easier because every move she makes leads her right back to Lucian. And Lucian has no intention of letting his “little nephew” fiancèe go. "You can keep pretending that night meant nothing." "But sooner or later, you'll realize you're already mine.”

Caught between two Alpha Kings, Aria had a life more miserable than any wolf of her age. To the first king, she was sold to him for a couple bucks and became his never resting machine to show his sexual prowess. He took pride in reminding her that her usefulness only lay in bed. When salvation came to her in the form of a new king, her child was his utmost priority— a priority set to tarnish his image for eternity. She would watch both rivals battle endlessly for the custody of that one joy in her unending sorrows. But when one of them confronts his own demons and his growing feelings for Aria, what becomes of the fate of the poor, wretched Omega slave and mother?

My best friend is bound to a trade system—she can force a swap with me three times. At 13, she takes my heart. At 18, she takes my SAT scores. And now, for the final swap, she wants my entire identity. I hide under the covers, unable to hold back a laugh. My villa is rented, and my family background is totally fake. Go ahead, bestie. Swap away! This time, I really hope you don't hold back.

Takuto Kimura, 30 years old, a career elite, always dressed in a sharp suit, with his hair perfectly neat, looking like the lead character from《The Godfather》or《Yakuza Chronicles》. His daily life is a never-ending "battle": meetings, overtime, coffee to stay awake, and piles of reports. To outsiders, he is the epitome of a successful businessman, but inside, he's already overwhelmed by the pressure and suffocating under it. Every day, he finds himself thinking, "If only I could go back to being three years old, I wouldn’t have to deal with these damn files and KPIs." One late night, as he stares at his computer screen, drowning in self-doubt, fate suddenly gives him an unexpected "opportunity" “He is reborn, back to the age of three.”

On the fifth anniversary of my marriage to Vicente Buckley, he violated my trust by sleeping with my best friend Kinsley Gilmore, on our bed. Through the camera, my son Jamie Buckley's childish voice sounded. "Kinsley, I'll keep watch at the door. I won't let my mom come in!" As if rewarding him, Kinsley pecked Vicente and suggested, "Your son is great. Don't you think about having another child with Patricia?" Vicente responded by covering her face with a pillow, saying, "The scar on her belly disgusts me."