Dirty Laundry Book Novels & Stories

"It’s rough." "Because it’s covered with dry mud. I should wipe off the mud. " Leonardo returned the book to Angela, who took the time to clean it in the bathroom. She placed the book in a basin of water and left it to soften and melt the mud. It was initially brown, but later revealed its true cover color, pink. "This book is pink," Angela said quietly, her hand shaking as she held a stick and drew the book from the water, letting it dry in the wind after removing the mud. Until the truth comes out. It was Esmeralda's long-lost diary.

Some things were too far gone, I can’t believe the children were sleeping on that thing. The next thing I focused on were the clothes. I packed every shirt, every pair of pants and dress that looked somehow manageable, I stuffed them into buckets, soaking them in hot water with soap, and bleach. I didn’t care if the colors faded. I just wanted the smells gone. I scrubbed until the water turned dark and dirty, then poured it out and soaked it again leaving it to the side. When I was done, I shut the windows tight, removed all the dirty curtains and soaked them too.

"Did you like the gift I left you?" The first scoffed, her eyes blazing with fury as she stepped closer. "You soaked our clothes, bags, beds, and even our books with some nasty liquid that smelled like urine!" "Do you have any idea how hard it was to clean up the mess? We wore the same clothes for two weeks because of you! The room still stinks!" Rhea wiped her face, looking disgusted. "Ugh, I didn't ask for a bath in your saliva. Pity the cleaners here-you're drooling all over the floor. You still stink, though."

“You don’t know shit about what I’ve built or what I’ve lost. You think your little bookstore is the center of the universe? Grow up. The world doesn’t stop for rose bushes and storytime.” She yanked free, but didn’t step back. Their bodies were inches apart, rain pouring between them. “And you think money fixes everything? That you can just take what you want and call it progress? You’re empty. Cold. The second this deal’s done, you’ll forget I existed.”

There was a narrow linen chute door near the floorboards, meant for the laundry staff to drop dirty sheets down to the basement washing rooms. It was a tight squeeze, but my nineteen-year-old body was lean enough to slide through the steel opening. I grabbed my canvas backpack, squeezed my shoulders tight, and slid backward into the dark metal chute, letting myself drop straight down into the belly of the hospital. The fall was short, landing me on a massive pile of damp white towels inside the sterile, buzzing laundry basement. The air down here smelled of bleach and industrial soap, completely empty of any guards or doctors. I scrambled out of the linen bin, checking the pocket of my black

Especially if it's a business like ours. He gathers his whips, chains, vibrators, and knives from the bed and various areas of the floor. He takes out a rag from his bag and starts cleaning them. Oh wait, these are not the only things that need to be cleaned. He wipes his hands on one of the vintage sofa covers then takes his large-screened cellphone from one of his bag's pockets. Rube dials a number as he views his latest scarlet-soiled Picasso-like masterpiece on, under, and beside the bed.

Playing dirty to get what we want. Authors note: This is the end of book one. Book two will continue under the same title. I hope you’ve enjoyed book one. Book two’s title is: The Promised Mate

Klark, ‘Tribid Greed’ by Steve Reynolds, and a lot of other books. One by one Trisha returned all the books she'd picked. When she was beginning to get tired and unmotivated, the corner of her eyes perceived a strange book on a shelf not too far from where she was. Its spines were tattered and appeared like spiky wires beneath the poor lighting.

Books are pulled off shelves, the bookcase tipped over on top of them. Crumpled sheets litter the floor, ripped from the bed. The mattress is off the box spring a few inches. Nothing broken, but it will involve a long cleanup effort. I don't check on the master bedroom, preferring to pretend it's fine. At least for a few more minutes. I'm back to denial.

abruptly, and his face turned black. It seemed that they were in a crisis of trust. "You idiot, if you want to monopolize me, you can say it directly. You don't need to be jealous." He used a teasing tone to cover up his ridicule and dissatisfaction with her. As soon as he finished his words, Sonia got up in a hurry, put her hands on her hips, glared at him and said angrily, "I'm not interested in you at all. I'm a neat freak. I hate it when you touch another woman and then come to touch me. Don't touch me again. You are dirty!" "So I should keep my integrity for you?" He turned around, with his head resting on one hand, and looked at her playfully. "It is a clean living. If you go out and