Eden Sin Gloryhole Novels & Stories

Loose. I work my fingers into the gap between the altar stone and its base and I lift. It is heavier than it looks, and I have to brace my shoulder against the wall to get enough leverage, but the stone tilts upward and slides back, revealing a dark cavity beneath. The smell that rises from it is dry and old, paper and leather and dust, and I know before I reach inside what I am going to find.

His obsidian eyes seemed to miss nothing, and his dark hair fell in artful disarray. Luca was known as the "Whisper." He was a master of stealth and subterfuge, able to move in and out of the shadows without a trace. His quiet demeanor and deadly precision had earned him the nickname. He was the clandestine operative for the Bianchi Shadows, a secretive and mysterious gang known for their covert operations and manipulation of information.

The click-clack of a woman's high heels approaching the confessional stall gave the priest an unarguable guess of his next penitent's gender. The door swung open and almost immediately, the fragrance she wore stole the atmosphere. Fr Gregory became the curious cat. Well, he has always been. Then the overwhelming and compelling need to see this woman whom reminds him of Rose of Rome. This penitent who was there for absolution and whose fragrance reminds him of the years he hoped to spend his youth on the thighs of Rose an Italian beauty queen. Some how, this fragrance evoked feelings of sensuality and hot coitus desires even though it felt wrong at the moment.

“A lowly b*tch will always be a lowly b*tch! A leopard never changes its spots after all! You think just because you’re better dressed and look more presentable, that you’ve now elevated yourself? Look at yourself, how sneaky and suspicious you look, lurking outside my home! The next time I see you wandering about outside my house, I’ll order the bodyguards to break your legs! Go away! You stink! Don’t pollute my uncle’s nose!” Jennie had a great time cursing her in the streets like that. She must have done it to curry favor with the old man. Every single word rang in Gloria’s ears. Then, tears flowed out of her eyes once more. She cried for her own incompetence. She went there to fight for

"No! I cannot let you marry that thug! I will not! You're my precious daughter!" Christina held our mother's hand and swayed it. She cooed, "John Doe is not a thug, Mom! He's an honest farmer. Strong and brave too! You can't insult him!" Oh God, her cloying voice almost made me throw up. Unbelievable. She must know no shame if she could twist a crass thug like John into an honest farmer. She thought his violence was strength and courage?

I asked her, feigning disinterest in whatever she has to say. “It’s no news how much you love your wife Mr. Ellmord.” Six pairs of eyes stared at her. “Susan has always gotten away with hurting people just to get what she wants. I’ve been sent to a coma twice just because I was trying to help her out. I think it’s time it stopped.” “I need you to answer just one question,” I told her calmly and she nodded. “Where can I find that bitch?” “She’s hiding in an underground club and I’ll lead you straight to her.”

While the water burned my skin and made my injuries prickle, I was able to rid myself of his voice for a moment. Speaking of my injuries, I wonder where the hell Luke and his friends had disappeared to. Not like I wished for them to return from wherever it is that they suddenly disappeared to but I couldn't help wondering just where they had left to. Luke would never miss a chance to troll me so him disappearing to heaven-knows-where, was strange. When I opened my door, I saw a small wooden parcel with a note from my parents. For some reason known only to them, they always gifted me in wooden parcels and not just any wood, it was the Elderwood.

Kristen This place was sick. I was crying myself to death, I wanted to scratch each inch of my skin to get rid of their hands all over my body. Their laughs and moans were plastered in my memory. I was mentally shrieking as loud as I could so that I could silence their voices in my head loudly, but they were still there. They didn’t miss any part of my body to remain untouched; not even my vagina. I couldn’t feel anything other than humiliation and disgust, the thoughts were killing me and I couldn’t stop crying.

In a heartbeat, all the color drained from her face. I looked up and sized her up. In just a month, the woman who used to be so high and mighty—polished down to her last strand of hair—now looked haggard with bloodshot eyes. Her haute couture suit hung loosely on her frame, making her look like a child who had stolen an adult's clothes. Her pride and commanding presence had vanished without a trace. All that remained was desperation. Her lips trembled, and it took her a while to find her voice. "Kieran…"

He hadn’t said where they were going. He hadn’t needed to. Her thighs still ached from their first claiming. And yet something deeper stirred now, wilder, ancient. She could feel the call of his beast on her skin like invisible hands: possessive, primal, undeniable. “You brought me to the Hollow,” she whispered as they entered a glade surrounded by thorn-choked trees. “This is sacred—” “It’s cursed,” he cut in, turning to face her, voice hoarse. “The Hollow is where my beast was bound. Centuries ago, my father cursed it to sleep. But you…”