Dua Before Eating Novels & Stories

After my best buddy, Jack Hughes, certified my 20th girlfriend as 'another gold digger', I finally agreed to an arranged marriage to the wealthy heiress Cyndi White. My family was delighted. Later, at a gathering with friends, Jack snatched Cyndi’s half-eaten cake and said like he was her real husband, "Cyndi, this cake is too sweet. Eating too much won't be good for you. I'll eat it for you." I stopped him, but he did not just think he was in the right. He even exploded and said, "I was just testing your wife's character. Why all the fuss? We've been bros for over a decade. Do you think I've got my eye on your wife?" If it were in the past, I might have believed him. However, I had been reborn. I grabbed the cake from the table and slammed it into his face. "What kind of character do you have, testing other people's character like that? You're just my late driver's son! Why are you pretending to be some wealthy heir? I bet you've not only got your eye on my wife, but you've already planned how to get into her bed!"

Lucky isn't ready to be married nor is she interested in the arranged marriage with Mafia Don, Nico Santangelo. But he has a contract out on her father for the marriage or he will have Lucky's father killed. He is a man who always gets what he wants and nothing will stand in his way. He is richer than any man and more powerful than any other Don has ever been. He rules the underworld of the New York Crime Scene and this alliance between his family and Lucky's mafia family would mean he becomes the King of New York. He doesn't care for a wife especially not Lucky but he needs her and it eats him alive that this is the only way he can be King of New York and he will do whatever it takes in his power to make that happen. Lucky is strong willed, she is fierce and not a docile dove he can easily manipulate but Nico Santangelo is not scared of a challenge, he will have her eating out of his hand and tamed if it is the last thing he does. Besides, when he is the King of New York and her father dies eventually, he will no longer need this woman. He isn't prepared, however, that he could fall in love with her.

"I need an answer, Collins. Or is your guilt eating you up so bad that..." "There is no guilt," he deadpans, the weight of his words resting on my shoulders, making them sag in sorrow. "It was only a matter of time until you found out. I want to say I'm sorry, but that would be me lying..." Blood rushes to my ears. I can't believe what I'm hearing. "What? You're... you're not — " "No," he shrugs. "You brought this upon yourself." "Excuse me? I made you cheat?" "Yes." ----------------------- When hotshot billionaire mogul Collins Black propositions her to be his wife, twenty-two-year-old, script writer Anna Whitfield believes she's the luckiest woman on earth. But things quickly go sour when one year later, she discovers that Collins has been cheating on her with her best friend, Diana. What's worse? Collins proposes to Diana on a night which is supposed to be the most important night of her life. Enraged, and frustrated, Anna begs the nearest man she can find for a kiss to spite her ex-husband. But the man who obliges isn't just any man, but the most powerful mafia don in Russia. Viktor Ivanov. [NOTE: This is an ex-husband/mafia romance. You’re guaranteed to have a swell time reading. Do enjoy]

One thousand stories. One thousand ways to get wet, aroused, and begging for more. This collection is pure sin on your screen. Good girls turned into cock-hungry sluts in the span of a single night. Risky fucks in movie seats, hotel mix-ups, locked bathrooms, family cabins. Virginities lost to the wrong man… or the right group of men. Sisters, best friends, fiancées, stepdaughters—all fucking, sharing, eating each other out, and taking load after load while pretending they hate how good it feels. Expect: Every hole used and filled. Creampies that drip for days. Public exposure, semi-public humiliation. Rough, jealous, competitive sex. Anal, DP, face-sitting, squirting, cum-play. That razor-thin line between “I shouldn’t” and “don’t stop” This isn’t a book you read. It’s a book that reads you because it knows what makes your clit throb and your cheeks burn. Open it if you dare. Close it when you can’t take any more (spoiler: you won’t be able to). Reader discretion: Extreme taboo, group scenarios, degradation, incest-adjacent themes, non-stop orgasms, lesbian, threesome, gangbang and every filthy thing you dare to imagine. NB: accepting requests for hot sexy stories that's your deepest fantasy. 1000 stories!!!

Will is a boy trapped in a goblin world. Blood, all he saw was blood. Will was paralyzed in fear, he couldn't even scream. This was the first time he had seen so much blood in his life. He heard a splat next to him and saw a small wrinkly thing land next to him. This time will screamed, the thing got up on its knees and immediately started gnawing on whatever soft surface they had landed on. Will was horrified and tried getting away while screaming, but his body was still weak, so all he could do was crawl. He started screaming even louder when he saw his own arms clawing at the surface, they were also green. He had a pair of short stubby arms with three claw like fingers coming out at the end. He stopped all his activity and just sat down in a daze. More and more green things were thrown in the area around him, and like the first one they all started eating whatever it was they were on. Will focused on his surroundings this time, taking in all the information he could. He had realized that no matter what was happening, he needed to understand the situation he was in, and since it seemed he wasn't in any immediate danger, he had decided to calm down and focus.

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.

Brandon Smith has flown for eight years. I've been with him since the time he was an assistant pilot, all the way until he successfully rose to the ranks as the head pilot. In the year Brandon's busiest with his career, I resign from my job and begin cooking according to his aviation schedule. Just once, I bring up the question, "Can you please show me the sight of being thousands of feet in the air in the near future? Just once, please!" Brandon continues eating from his plate. "The plane is a workplace, not an amusement park for you." I reply, "Okay." Since then, I never bring up that matter in front of him. That is, until I find myself suffering from insomnia one night. That's when I accidentally come across an encrypted photo album tucked away in Brandon's phone. There are over 40 photos in the album, all from his perspective as a pilot. There are seas of clouds, sunsets, double rainbows after a downpour, as well as the Milky Way in the night sky when the plane is over thousands of feet in the sky. Every photo has been sent to the same person with a bear's emoji as their name. The latest photo is a photo of the beautiful evening colors from three days ago. Half of the sun can be seen in the clouds. The caption that comes with the photo says, "Today's sky is still beautiful as ever. When you come over next time, you can take the observation seat on the right. It gives you the best angle of the sky." The bear emoji person responds with a hugging emoji and a short sentence. "Wait for me to go on my break." I put Brandon's phone back where it belongs without changing the password and deleting the album. Once the morning sun is up, I brew myself some coffee as usual before finishing it quietly. Then, I turn on my computer and book myself a flight ticket to Dalco. It's been eight years. Finally, I don't have to chase after Brandon's flight routes and wait for his mealtimes. I no longer have to stay in an empty house while guessing which flight destination he's headed to right now. Since Brandon's sky refuses to tolerate my presence, I shall move my roots elsewhere and watch the sunset on my own.

One day, billions woke up on an endless highway. One vehicle each. One life each. No exits. Others got scooters, bicycles, or tractors. Jake Maddox got a beat-up motorhome. Level-one zombies have 20 strength. Humans have 5. And Cthulhu monsters lurk in the mist. This isn't a game—it's a slaughter. But Jake has a cheat: Gold Mods. He glances at his status screen and smirks. "Not enough stats? Gold mods to the rescue." [Fuel Tank] + [Infinite] = unlimited fuel. Floor it and leave everyone choking on dust. [Tires] + [Indestructible] = unbreakable, unshakable, unstoppable. No attack gets through. [Motorhome] + [Spatial Folding] = a mobile fortress that fits it all — storage, pool, villa, armory, and more. [Windows] + [One-Way Transparent] = armored steel to the outside, panoramic views from within. Total safety, zero claustrophobia. While others shiver and barter their souls for half a bottle of gas, Jake sits in his climate-controlled motorhome, eating a steaming-hot chicken pie, watching a Cthulhu boss try to break in. His calm response? "That tentacle would taste pretty good grilled." … From Lv.1 Beater Motorhome to Lv.100 Ark of the Old Ages—as long as Jake can imagine it, no mod is off the table. Gold mods. Show me your limits.

My boyfriend's childhood sweetheart bound herself to a transfer system: everything she ate would be redirected straight into my stomach. She opened a streaming account and broadcast herself eating for twelve hours straight. She earned a fortune. Meanwhile, I collapsed with acute pancreatitis and was rushed to the hospital. When I explained the situation to my boyfriend, he only stared at me like I was insane. "How could something that absurd exist? If food could really be transferred, no one in the world would ever starve. You're just jealous that she's making money from streaming." After that, every time his childhood sweetheart went live, I ended up hospitalized again. I kept hovering between life and death. I sought medical help, but the doctors couldn't explain my condition. Some even wanted to commit me to a psychiatric ward. Then, one day, in order to outdo her rivals in a PK match, she devoured ten pounds of rice in a single sitting. At that very moment, my spleen and stomach ruptured, and I bled to death on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of her very first livestream. This time, I was prepared. I rushed out and bought twenty takeout meals. "This time," I said, "I'll eat first."

He rejected her because she didn’t fit his perfect world. Now, the bond will break him until he learns to bow. Aria spent years being punished for her body. When she catches her cruel husband, Alec, cheating with a slender socialite, she finally demands a divorce and retreats to her childhood pack—only to walk straight into her worst nightmare. Her manipulative stepsister, Liora, is celebrating her engagement to the terrifyingly powerful Alpha Xavier. The moment Xavier steps into the room, the fated mate bond snaps into place. But instead of claiming her, Xavier corners Aria on a private balcony with a brutal confession: *He knew she was his mate three years ago. And he chose power over a plus-size Luna. Left behind to face her family's cruel shuns and a spiraling eating disorder, Aria becomes a ghost in her own home. But the universe doesn't tolerate broken bonds. As the mate rejection begins to physically destroy Xavier from the inside out, the proud Alpha is forced to his knees. Driven mad by the beast inside him, he will do anything to pull Aria from the darkness—even if it means burning down the very world he sacrificed her to build. Alec wants her ruined. Liora wants her dead. But as Aria's dormant wolf finally awakens, they are all about to learn that the girl they tried to hide is the rightful queen they will be forced to bow to.