Demon Mother Novels & Stories

He was her stepfather. He made her breakfast every Sunday while her mother was still alive. He was at her graduation. He kept a careful distance that Aurora noticed — and never examined. When her mother died, Aurora left and spent two years telling herself she had processed everything properly. She had not. Now her grandmother has handed her a red envelope with one name inside it. The same name. Aurora holds the note for a long time before she gets on the bus. Julian Oswald is forty years old. Cedar Falls knows him as a quiet widowed chef raising his daughter alone. What Cedar Falls does not know — what the entire culinary world has been trying to discover for years — is that Julian is the Ghost Chef. The anonymous billionaire behind the world's largest culinary empire. A face no one has ever photographed. His five-year-old daughter Lily has not spoken a full sentence since her mother died. She has not eaten voluntarily. Not for anyone. Until Aurora walks through the door. Lily says one word after two years of silence — a name she should not still remember — and Julian goes completely still on the porch. That is when Aurora understands she is not walking into a contract. She is walking back into the most dangerous kitchen she has ever been in. The one where everything between them has always been unspoken. The one where he still knows her breakfast order without asking. He was supposed to be off-limits. He was. He memorized her breakfast order anyway.

Darlene is a woman rediscovered. After the dust of a divorce settled, she found herself trapped in a quiet house with a growing, restless hunger. What began as a fleeting, forbidden thought soon spiraled into an all-consuming obsession centered on the one person who was strictly off-limits: her son, Leo. What starts with stolen glances and secret thrills evolves into a high-stakes game of cat and mouse. From provocative signals in the hallway to the ultimate crossing of lines, Darlene and Leo navigate a dangerous path of mutual discovery. As they shed the traditional roles of mother and son, they replace them with a bond that is as intense as it is taboo. But a secret this heavy cannot stay contained forever. Between the looming threat of discovery by neighbors, the interference of old flames, and the life-altering reality of a pregnancy that binds them forever, their unconventional relationship is tested at every turn.

For Maya Bennett, a one-night stand was supposed to be just that—one night. But when she walks into her mother’s house and finds the man from that unforgettable night standing there as her mother’s new boyfriend, her world tilts on its axis. Daniel Hayes is everything Maya swore to avoid—powerful, devastatingly handsome, and emotionally unavailable. But the sparks that ignited between them can’t be extinguished, no matter how wrong it feels. At first, they promise to leave what happened between them in the past in order not to hurt Helen, but then when the small marketing firm Maya works for is acquired by Daniel’s company she is sent over to the executive department as part of the transitioning team. Things start to get heated and they eventually start to cave into their desires. Can love survive when it was never meant to exist? Or will it destroy everything in its wake?

My mother-in-law, Martha Miller, dies after being struck by my husband's assistant, Layla Atkinson's car after the latter runs the red light. But the court verdict shows that Martha is the one scamming Layla. I've filed appeals three times, yet I've lost all three. Just as I'm about to file the fourth appeal, I find out that someone has stolen Martha's corpse. I'm about to call the police when my attorney husband, Michael Sawyer, seeks me out. He even gives me three thousand dollars on the spot. "You should know that I've never lost a case, Bianca. No matter how much evidence you have, you can forget about winning your mother's case. "If I claim that your mother is scamming Layla, then she will forever be a scammer. The fact that you keep taking her case to court just means that you want more compensation. Anyway, I've already gotten someone to sell your mother's body to the black market. It's worth three thousand dollars in total, so I suppose that's the value of her life. "Stop bothering Layla like a pest you are. She's kind enough to not make you pay for the damages her car has sustained, after all." No wonder Michael keeps defending Layla. It turns out that he thinks my mom is the one who has died in the accident this whole time. I just push the money back to him. "You should keep the money. I don't have the right to take it."

Disclaimer: This story has 18+ Sexual Theme and Violence, no one under 18 is allowed to read this. *"Are you sure you're ready for this? Are you willing to give yourself to me?" The intensity of his gaze made me want to do anything for him. His eyelids were heavy, his breath wild and thirsty for me—exactly what I had always wanted, for him to be crazy for me. "I give you all of myself, as long as you'll have me," I whispered in his ear, kissing his neck. His hand moved up my back, slowly unhooking my bra, caressing my neck with the back of his fingers. As my bra fell away, he took a moment to look at me, sighing in amazement. "You are beautiful, Julia," he murmured, kissing my neck. I tilted my head back, heart pounding as he whispered against the skin of my chest, "You are mine, Julia." He pressed his ear to my chest. "Did you hear that? That heartbeat calls my name!"* *Growing up in my childhood town, it was my dream to pursue my Music Career. Like any ordinary teenager, I had millions of dreams: To go on a world tour, perform on stage, to become famous. I couldn't have thought I was cursed decades before I was even born, and then I had to come back to my mother's hometown, thinking I might escape him, while accidentally landing in his trap. And then, I met them - two captivating men who stole my heart with their charismatic presence and mysterious allure. Now I'm torn between them in a world where I'm not allowed to fall in love. --- I'm Julia Murphy, and I'm marked by a demon, who won't stop at anything until he gets his claws on me.*

This year, as the country's leading neurosurgeon, I was invited to perform a high-profile specialist surgery at a hospital in another state. Twenty years ago, I stood in this very operating room. My mother suffered a cerebral hemorrhage, and the surgeon's hand slipped by less than a quarter of an inch. She died. Back then, it was my first love, Ethan Lancaster, who helped me through the grief. Only later did I learn the truth. The surgeon listed on the case was Ethan's father, the hospital's renowned Chief of Neurosurgery. But the one actually holding the scalpel was Ethan himself, still a surgical resident at the time. He and Vanessa Hart had planned it all along. They used my mother's operation as a practice case to advance his career. After the tragedy, Vanessa used her status as the hospital director's daughter to bury the entire incident. From that day forward, I gave up my guaranteed research placement and sat for medical school entrance exams again. I studied from undergraduate through postdoctoral training. I spent twenty full years turning myself into the kind of surgeon who would never make that mistake. All so that one day, no one else would have to suffer the same tragedy my mother did. Today, my assistant slid a patient's file across the desk. Brainstem tumor. Late stage. Extremely high risk. The face in the photo had aged considerably, but I recognized it at a glance. I handed the file back to my assistant and removed my surgical coat. “I can't perform this surgery.”

If it was my sister being bullied, Mom and Dad would have believed her right away and fought for her without a second thought. However, it did not matter anymore. In my next life, I would pick parents who really cared about me.

In order to protect my father, I was tortured for ten hours, but my father was busy celebrating his adopted daughter’s eighteenth birthday. With my dying breath, I called my father and said, “Dad, it’s my birthday today. Could you wish me a happy birthday?” “You crazy monster! You got your mother killed in order to celebrate your birthday! How could you still ask me to celebrate your birthday? You should just die!” With that said, he hung up. The next day, my corpse was placed in different flower pots and put in front of a police station. My father was in charge of inspecting my corpse, and he could immediately tell that the murderer did this for revenge. What they did to me was cruel and made a mockery of the police’s authority. But he did not manage to tell that the deceased was the daughter he hated.

Maddy thought marrying her fated mate and flying to Greece to start a new life would fix everything. All she wanted was a perfect life with De-Shawn—far away from Alpha Rowan J. Grey, the man she discovered was also her mate. That was impossible. A werewolf could only have one fated mate—unless one died. Second-chance mates don't happen while both are still alive. Yet here she was. Both of her mates are alive. “Let’s go to Greece,” De-Shawn said the night he slid the ring onto her finger. Maddy wasn’t sure, but running felt safer than staying. Because Rowan couldn’t be her mate. He was married. He had children. Worse—he was her godmother’s husband. She escaped to Greece, hoping distance would weaken the bond forming between her and Rowan. Hoping marriage would save her. But It didn’t. Her fated mate destroyed her life; he killed their unborn pup, stripping her of everything she owned, and forcing her into a conservatorship. Left with nothing and on the verge of spending six years in rehab as a mentally ill patient, she turns to one person. One person she shouldn’t turn to, one person from whom she should stay far away.

“You let him touch you huh?” He asked as he pulled out a whip. “No I didn’t let him, I swear” I countered his accusation. He pushed me on the bed and started pulling off my clothes. “Alex” I whispered. “Shhhhh” he starts by whipping my ass, every single lash on me made me pussy watered. “Alex…” I moaned in desperation. “Why did you let that bastard touch what belongs to me” he asked, but I couldn’t respond. “Look at you….already wet and soaked, what a naughty little slut you are” on normal days from another person I should have offended by those words but coming from him only made my pussy clenched. He slipped one finger inside, carefully and gently. “You’re a bad girl and bad girls deserve punishment right?” I asked casually like he was asking about documents in the office. “Yes” I shivered. “Yes what?” I asked putting one of my nipple in his mouth. “Yes, yes, yes daddy yes daddy” I said screaming. “Good girl” he said “ now if you make another sound, I’ll make sure your mouth is shut till I’m done” after all I’ve experienced so far, I knew he wasn’t bluffing. “I like it when you call me daddy” he continued moving his fingers in and out slowing “say it again” “Daddy” I whispered but got whipped instead. “Say it louder” he commanded. “Daddy” I said sobbing. I shifted restlessly against the sheets. “Daddy…” The word slipped out again but this time it felt distant. I moved again and realized my hands were moving but it was actually moving between my legs. I looked between my legs and realized it was all a dream.