Crooked Gd Lyrics Novels & Stories

After Dominic Hatch loses his memories, he refuses to believe that I'm his wife. "If you really are my wife, why is it that there aren't any photos of us together?" I explain to him that he doesn't like taking photos. That's why we didn't even have a wedding portrait of us. But soon, Dominic digs out nine thick and heavy photo albums from a hidden compartment in his safe. The main characters in those albums are him and another unfamiliar woman. There are countless photos documenting their journey—from they were still children to when they had completely grown up. The pure and innocence on their faces slowly give way to the sappy love and affection they have for each other. In fact, Domi

"It's already 7am, where is Ms. Martin?" I opened the door to my office, exhausted and tired. Another sleepless night. I was taken aback from the scene in front of me. Paris, was randomly dancing with her headphones on. Singing loudly to the lyrics to what seems like a Korean song. "Hello Mr. Hernandez, Go on, tell me I'm late now. Bloody bastard, I went out to get your coffee so you didn't have to drink it cold but i won't do that today because you'd rather your stupid coffee cold than your assistant being a considerate person. RIGHT?" "Glad to hear your thoughts towards me. Ms. Martin." I tapped her shoulder and saw her horrified face when she realized, I heard and saw it all. -

“I am Maya, the first daughter of Alpha Darius of the Ashbourne Pack, and I am damned… damned by the Moon Goddess, and an embarrassment to my father’s legacy.” Born wolfless, her life had always been full of shame. While others shifted under the full moon, she suffered through painful heat. Her father, a powerful Alpha, saw her as a disgrace. And when he finally cast her out of the pack, she had nowhere left to go, until Kael, the feared Lycan Leader, found her. Now, Kael is offering her a hand. If she takes it, she’ll be branded as a traitor. If she doesn’t, it might cost her life, or worse… a life of eternal exile. "I won't be called wolfless anymore. I won't be yanked into the crooked

After my father-in-law's mouth started twisting to one side, my mother-in-law came back with a whole sack of venomous snakes and scorpions. According to her, it was some kind of folk remedy. Soak the creatures in alcohol, let him sit in it, then give him acupuncture. In three days, he’d be as good as new. When she explained it, the whole family froze. Some looked stunned, others outright terrified. I was the only one who clapped my hands like I approved. "Yeah, that sounds like a great remedy. You can tell it works just by hearing it. We should listen to Lucy. This way, we can treat Edward and save money. Isn't that perfect?" My mother-in-law shot me a disdainful look and let out a cold

In the coastal quiet of Baler, a studio is born—not of architecture, but of intention.* Founded by Yam, a poet whose words cradle pain gently, and Franc, an artist who paints tenderness into walls, the studio becomes a refuge for those learning to stay—with grief, love, longing, and themselves. As visitors arrive, they leave behind more than footprints: a sigh recorded in bamboo, a poem tucked into the “Found Letters” shelf, a mural painted in crooked lines. Through zines, tea, silence, and sketchbooks, the studio teaches softness as revolution. Ren creates the *Window of Soft Returns*, an installation of anonymous voice recordings—each whisper forming a community of echoes. Drew bu

"Am I your first, little flower?" the Alpha asks me. "Well, I won't be your last." He wears a crooked grin as he gestures to the bed. I bite my bottom lip and comply because I have no choice. My father has sold me to the king, and now, I must entertain the four candidates to become the next Alpha King. I am, after all, their breeder. As he climbs onto the bed, I hold my breath. He's unbelievably sexy, but he's just the first of the men I will be getting to know better, the first of four vying for the title of Alpha King. What if I fall in love with him? What if I fall in love with all four of them? *** Rose's parents insist she enter the contest to become the new Breeder because they nee

“He pressed me to the wall with one hand tight around my throat, the other sliding beneath the thin silk clinging to my skin. I should’ve been begging for help. Instead, my knees went weak when he leaned in, his mouth hot against my ear. ‘Does it hurt, darling?’ he whispered. I shook my head, even as his fingers left bruises. ‘Good. I like it when you take it.’ God, I hated him. God, I wanted him to never let go.” A DARK, EROTIC TALE OF OBSESSION, HUMILIATION, AND HUNGER. They called him the Devil, a sadist with a crooked smile and hands built for breaking men. In the underworld’s most perverse auction, Luca Ruelle is nothing but trembling prey, sold for a price no soul should fet

As I turn to march out of the room, my feet stop and my breath hitches. "Bryanna. Why…” I whip back around and glare at them. "You aren't to use that name in public. Only when we are in private and alone.” Jacob flashes me a crooked smile. His eyes sparkle as he waves his finger around in the air. “We are alone. It is only us three in here.” He rests his arm on the table and gives me a cheesy grin, almost daring me to slap it off him. His t-shirt stretches tight against his muscular chest and accents his well-defined muscles. He has a true alpha body. The sparkle in his light brown eyes shimmers as he leans forward. In a deep, husky voice, he adds, “We know all your secret

“I stood by you when all your family members were against you, when your family members mocked you because the doctor said our child cannot be born I still took the risk and went under the knife to give you a child, you have forgotten who stood by you all these years and just because of a crooked lie and confusion you became so blind and stand before me to threaten me with a divorce paper, I'll sign these papers but I promise you that you'll regret this action someday and for your family members that did this to me, time shall tell” Sarah’s husband’s family teamed up and set her up on bed with a stranger, forged a fake DNA result which says that the child she had for her husband is not his,

The seventh time Dante Moretti served me divorce papers, I was sitting with my son in a cheap diner on Chicago's South Side. I forced a smile and brushed my hand over my son's hair. "Just wait a little longer, sweetheart. This time, Mommy will get custody of you." He stayed quiet for a long moment. Then he looked up and asked, “Mommy, how much do you need to sell me for before you're happy?” Before I could answer, he pulled a handwritten divorce agreement from his backpack and pushed it toward me. "I know you keep fighting Dad for me because you want more money from him." "I wrote the agreement for him. Please sign it. Dad is already tired. Stop making his life so hard." His handwriting was