Diary Of Black Mad Woman Novels & Stories

“What happened? Did you hurt yourself?” “Mom,” Diana uttered softly as she looked at me with sad eyes. “Mom, I seem to see a black wolf… biting the moon.” I stared at her and couldn’t make sense of what she said. But I was more concerned about the bleeding, so I didn’t think about what she said that much. After the bleeding stopped and Madison made Diana and Devon take their afternoon nap, I sat down on the couch, my mind filled with what Brianne told me. They were the key. Did those explain the mysterious things they had been telling me? And Diana… I knew she was special. But it scared me that she sees and feels things that they shouldn’t be dealing with at this young age…

The second she opened the door, she went straight to her mother's room and raided the whole place, looking for any proof that her mother was truly sleeping with Alpha Diesel. As she rummaged through her things, she saw a large black book with the word DIARY boldly written on it. Elora scoffed because she herself did not own a DIARY, nothing special had happened in her life to warrant one. Surely her mother would've not been so clumsy that she would write her life's secret in a book - Elora thought.

For the next few minutes, I keep trying to rouse my mate out of his state of unconsciousness by calling his name and reaching out for him through our mating bond. Eventually, the door opens, and the tell-tale clacking of heels against the concrete floor fills my ears. Madam Noir steps into my line of vision. She has a nasty black eye, and her right shoulder looks stiff. She's wearing red heels, and her nails are painted red. There's a blank look on her face, but I can feel the hostility oozing from her. Her gaze darkens when it falls on my mate. Her uninjured eye twitches and she heads towards the table, staring at the weapons with a sudden sparkle in her eyes.

And everyone in it. “Get off of her! Don’t touch her!” I screamed to the pack as I pushed their lustful paws away. They cocked their heads and laughed heartily. Some howled as the warrior continued to take her; her groans of pleasure never pausing as the trance... this black magic took hold. I looked around the room. All the women’s eyes were blackened, under some sort of spell. Their grunts and groans of elation suffocated the room. One woman danced topless as the men grabbed and pulled roughly at her breasts.

A friend in need is a friend indeed. Her body had lost a lot of weight. She could feel her stomach harnessed by hunger. She yawned frequently renouncing the urgency of having a chunk of food in her gut. Despite her land being poor, she had never had a yawn hunger. It seemed to her of a long period of unconsciousness. Her visage always had a rhythmical impact on her heart as it pounded on her chest slowly pushing the little blood into the capillaries of her eyes. She was at loose end. She could feel she was of no help to Ariana. The ability to retrieve memories was not on her side. She couldn't connect the map of the castle. The way that led to the medicine woman.

In the grim medieval castle of Blackthorn, an air of dread hung heavy as the inquisitors gathered, their faces etched with righteous zeal. Five women from the village had been accused of witchcraft, and the holy duty to root out evil fell upon the shoulders of the inquisition. At the head of this grim assembly stood Lady Mircalla Le Fey, the infamous Countess, a woman renowned for her ruthless efficiency and sadistic prowess in the arts of torture.

And the monster’s victory is so complete, it leaves you wondering if you’re reading the journal of the victim… or the secret, proud biography of the victor. Then, after a long pause, Adam lifted the diary again. His thumb brushed along the edge of the next page. “…Okay,” he whispered. And he opened the diary. ——— Episode 20 – Pool Party The envelope was thick, cream-colored, and smelled faintly of chlorine and expensive perfume. Mason’s name was scrawled across the front in a looping, feminine hand. He slit it open with a thumb, his calloused fingers a stark contrast to the delicate stationery. Inside, on a cardstock the color of a summer sky, were the words:

The wind combed through the sycamore trees and made sounds that resembled the sounds of her turning pages in the library in her younger days. She placed the diary back in the tin box along with the employee badge she used during her time at Renault Corporation. Then, she buried everything again. “It's all in the past.” She murmured softly, unsure whether she was addressing her mother, the sycamore tree, or the girl in the past who buried her secrets. That evening, the financial news channel was rebroadcasting Arthur's interview. The reporter further enquired, “You talked about an ‘old friend’ of yours. Is this relevant to the name of the foundation by any chance? We looked at the project’s n

Mary snapped, losing her patient, “just because it's not white, doesn't mean it's black, Amber." "I don't understand," I said. "What I was trying to say is..., women in our circumstances need to be smart. Know better, know how to keep our life in line and...," Hanna then lowered her lips to my ears. "We lure them in then get things done quietly," I flinched. Her warm breath tickled me.

I opened the cover revealing the thin gray lines running down the first page and grabbed a pen from the cup on the left hand side of the desk. Dear Diary, I don't even know where to start considering that this will be my first time "reflecting" on what my mother would call "sinful mistakes". I don't know what the opinion of a girly ass pink diary would be on the topic but prepare yourself for the story of a lifetime. I don't want to leave out the back story and I've gotta start somewhere right, so why not at the beginning?