Dead Man's Tells No Tales Novels & Stories

she politely introduces herself. "It's time for you to know the truth, and I want you to listen carefully, my dear... You know very well how much I loved your mother. My heart died with her when she passed away. The only thing that keeps me going is you, Serena." the old man said, with a small smile. "Of course. I know that, Daddy." Serena nodded in agreement. "But not all love story are perfect. And it's time for you to know what happened to me and your Mommy." Rafael told his daughter.

plastered on since sophomore year. i creak open the ancient door and make sure the stalls are empty. as always, the place was a ghost town. just as i grab my weed from my bag, the bell rings. the wing was silent. if i hadn’t heard the bell, you wouldn’t have even known it was a passing period. right as i finish my joint, i hear the door creak open and slam shut. i try to stay silent, hearing only a stream of piss hitting the ground of the stall next to me. whoever it is isnt even trying to aim.

Vivian's expression changed immediately. "Miss Reeds, these records are real. Did you really paint this?" "I—" Vivian couldn't say a word. She lifted her head pitifully, biting her lip as tears streamed down her face. "Horace, I didn't… I don't know why Rose is trying to frame me, but I wasn't lying!" I wasn't going to let her off the hook. "So can you explain what's going on with these hospital records?"

TALES OF INSTANT LUST - SHORT READS Preface Greetings, Reader Welcome to a world where passion flares up in the most unexpected places, where lust takes the stage, and where desire never waits. The concept behind "Tales of Instant Lust" was that not all love stories have to be quiet or poetic. Irresistible chemistry, unsaid tension, and raw hunger can sometimes express more than a thousand romantic words ever could. Designed for people who want their fantasies to be served quickly, hot, and unrestrained, these stories are brief, intense, and explicitly sexy.

Lovingman: “So what is it you need to know?” Curious: “There is so much, and I only know that I am not happy the way I am.” I was given directions on how to enter a private chat room with lovingman, and after a few clicks of the mouse, we were the only ones there. Lovingman: “So, babe. Tell me your story.” I was taken aback by his familiarity, but it had been so long, and this seemed anonymous enough, so I proceeded to pour out my life to this complete stranger. It took almost three hours of typing and his encouragement until I had fully unloaded my crappy life onto his shoulders.

Some stories started with hate. This one ended with everything.

It smelled like old paper and something faintly metallic. Damien walked to the far wall without hesitating, moving with the certainty of someone following a path they had taken many times before. There was a painting on the wall. A large, unremarkable landscape, the kind that exists in houses like this because someone decided the wall needed something on it. He lifted it off its hook. Behind it was a panel, plain and flush with the wall, with a small combination lock in the centre. He turned the dial without looking at me. Four numbers.

Few more minutes and I’m still staring something until I fall asleep. *** I was in the dream again but not like a nightmare before or a strange masked man. I don't really see them especially in their faces but I can clearly hear what they're talking about. I saw a man enter a study room naked and wearing only jean. I saw him approach a man sitting at a table and drinking wine. “How is she?” The man asked him. “She’s fine now.” “Is the Andersson Clan attacked her?” “Yes.” “I think we should move fast before they kill her.”