Egyptian God Anubis Tattoo Drawing Novels & Stories

Inside the tattoo studio, Seth Jones let his fingertips trace the dip of Rita Searle's waist and move slowly up her spine. With a soft rustle, her dress slipped to her ankles. He stood over her, taking in the blood-red rose inked across her chest. They had been married for three years, and this was the anniversary gift he'd be giving her—999 roses tattooed into her skin. A broken sob scraped up Rita's throat. "Seth, it hurts… Please, stop…" Her tears splashed onto the back of his hand, but he only pressed the needle deeper, dragging it along until angry red welts marked her body. "Victor wanted those damn roses so he could give them to another woman, and that led to Tara falling off that cliff and ending up in a vegetative state. I'm just giving him what he wanted. You should be grateful." Lying on the cold tattoo table, Rita felt the chill spreading through her. Her eyes stung, weighed down by grief churning behind them. "Isn't it enough? You bought out Searle Group, you hung Victor over a cliff, and left him for the vultures. What else do you want from us?" Seth grabbed her by the throat and forced her chin up. "And isn't Tara innocent in all this? Rita, you and Victor destroyed her life. Don't you owe her for that?"

Everyone in the underworld knew Rosalie Thorne, the "Thorn Principessa" of the North. Wild, rebellious, notorious. Street racing, high-stakes gambling, guns, and drinking, she had mastered them all. The rose-and-thorn tattoo on the nape of her neck drove countless men wild. But what they didn't know was that for Rocco, the new mob boss of the South, a single sentence, "I prefer a more obedient woman," was all it took. At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses. I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted. Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna." I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian. "Rosalie, she has a temper. She'll make a scene if she doesn't get the title." "You're the good one, the obedient one. Just let her have this." That day, I walked straight out into the rain and never looked back. I was never truly obedient. I just made myself smaller for him. My family had already chosen a husband for me. They had been waiting five years, just for me to say yes.

Blurb Luke Raygan is a man whispered about in fear. His empire was built from the ground up. The type that will chew your bones and spit them out, a predator to predators, the kind of devil that scares the demons away. So when his nonverbal autistic daughter disappears for hours, the last thing he expects is for her to come back entangled with a strange woman-the fiery stranger who slaps him for being an ungrateful father. Rheya has never been afraid of powerful men. She is observant and sees what other people miss, the loneliness and distress behind a little girl’s silence…the cracks beneath a tyrant’s control. And when Kendra clings to her like a safety net, Luke is forced to make an impossible choice: Keep this rebellious woman under his roof…or risk losing the only woman who his daughter trusts. His world is driven by rules, surveillance, control and possession – all of which Rheya defies. But the more Rheya helps Kendra integrate into the world-school,activities, small wins- the more Luke finds himself unraveling. Because the one thing he cannot resist no matter how hard he tries to control…his growing desire for her. And when she decides her work is done and it’s time to move on, Luke will experience a deeper fear than death and bloodshed…losing the only woman to defy him and show him warmth. In his empire of possession, obsession, and danger, the devil may have finally found his biggest weakness.

It was the tenth year of the Mechanical Civilization. My girlfriend, who always spoiled her brother to an unreasonable extent, orchestrated my death. Luckily, I was reborn seven days before the arrival of the machines. I bought a heavy-duty truck and evolved the strongest mecha. Close-combat mecha, long-range mecha, weapons, shields, funnels, modules… This time, I wanted the best of everything. My name is Victor Wild. Born to be a victor, born to be wild.

The world plunged into a new Ice Age. As the frozen apocalypse spread, 95% of humanity perished. In his first timeline, Cyrus Knovell's kindness cost him everything. The people he had helped betrayed him and left him for dead. Fate, however, granted him a second chance. He awakened one month before the world froze, gaining a dimensional ability that let him store anything without limit. Now he hoarded supplies by the billions and built a fortress no one could breach. While others shivered, starved, and traded their dignity for a morsel, Cyrus lived in comfort. The desperate came begging. The manipulative vixen: "Cyrus, let me into your shelter, and I'll be your girlfriend, okay?" The spoiled rich heir: "Cyrus, I'll give you all my money for just one meal!" The greedy neighbors: "Cyrus, you shouldn't be so selfish. You should share your supplies with us!" Cyrus remembered their betrayals. Lounging in his steel fortress and savoring his private paradise, he sneered, "Your survival has nothing to do with me. I'd rather feed the dogs than feed you."

Gosh! Those eyes! They were screaming cute! His masculine beauty was out of this world and he is the kind of man I’d love. The only problem I saw in him was the big tattoo on his arm that extended to his wrists. Being a typical church girl, I couldn’t end up with such a man unless I wanted to be disowned by my father. “I’d have a glass of martini, extra dirty and tacos.” He said in a dreamy gusty voice. “Coming right up” I said taking the menu list and flashed a timid smile at him. I felt my cheeks burning and if there was a mirror around here, I’d have checked how embarrassing I must be looking. My face must have definitely turned pink. I watched him as he ate gracefully without looking elsewhere, his eyes were fixed on his phone. His short brown hair was to die for, I instantly wished I could run my fingers through them. Too bad, I might not be the kind of woman he wants; it wouldn't hurt to have sinful fantasies. He suddenly looked towards me, maybe he must have noticed I had my eyes on him all along. Immediately he locked eyes with mine, I looked elsewhere pretending to looking for something that wasn’t missing. I could tell he gave a faint smile but kept sipping his drink slowly, as he was gazing at his phone. He gave a signal to come and get his bill and I walked gracefully to him. God! I wish he could just take me to bed. Oops! I’m a church girl and shouldn’t be thinking of things like that. “You should take a picture of me, it will last longer.” He said in a baritone voice.

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'

Kara Dawson is afraid of the dark. Nightmares came every night, haunting her of a past she cannot let go and a dreadful thing she cannot comprehend. A peaceful sleep is nothing but an elusive dream especially when her over-reacting senses are screaming of something intangible lurking in the shadows of the night. Will she survive each midnight before her fears fully devour her or will she learn to love the dark? He is there. He sees her and her every breath. He knows her fears and he isn't suppose to meddle and stir someone else's fate. But he can't continue watching her drown deeper as the midnight kisses the moon. Now, he must save her, not until the day breaks...

She was cursed, killed, and she got reincarnated in a dangerous world. Karla Allen is the only daughter of the Allen couple. Cursed before her birth, she was lived a normal life without making any friends. And on one busy day, she met Hazel Finn, a mysterious purple headed girl. After that day, nightmares started to make a fate she never wanted. Two women seeking for revenge, a death angel chasing after her, her one and only family died. What's more? Her getting a power she cant control? They are still warm ups, there are more coming. [Book 1 of Karla's Curse Series.]

A nationwide manhunt has begun across the vast land of Astasia to counteract a viral outbreak of Lycanthropy and Black Magic. The crusade has caused tragic circumstances to impact a young witch and her werewolf brother who was caught between the tangles of 2 dangerous worlds. Silvia and Amich had to do whatever they must to escape as well as survive the pursuit of both knowledge-craving researchers and devoted holy-driven crusaders; these foes who wanted to exploit their unique biology for selfish gains. Throughout this ordeal, young Silvia found romance with someone from a distance time; truly a relationship of the centuries. Their encounter created certain chains of events that cause an uproar in both worlds. Together they were hoping to assist each other with their overbearing burdens. However, their chaotic lives would never cease or receive an ounce of peace until they overcome the calamitous storm that struck them abruptly. Authors Note: Feel free to share your feedback, drop a comment, leave a review and big thanks to everyone who supports this story.