Eleven Stories Novels & Stories

A twenty-one-year-old student crushing on the thirty-something librarian who probably saw me as just another noisy undergrad. But here I was, down in the basement stacks at almost eleven, surrounded by dusty shelves and dim overhead lights. Mr. Kane had come down to help me find one last obscure history text. We were deep in the back when everything went black. The lights cut out with a loud pop. The air conditioning hummed to a stop. Total silence. “Shit,” I muttered, gripping the book in my hands tighter. “Power outage?” Mr. Kane’s voice came from a few feet away, calm as always. “Looks like it. The whole building probably. Stay still for a second. Don’t trip over the carts.”

Wilson International Group. “Don’t get me started on what happened to the ring." Looking at Vanessa’s empty finger, Lucinda chuckled, “Well, I must say that though by mistake, Megan did the very right thing.” “Seriously? You are taking her side?” Shrugging her shoulders, Lucinda answered, “I am just saying the right thing, you are better off without it.” Without waiting for her reply, she added, “And I don’t understand why you even have it on, I mean my husband comes home late from work for three consequetives days and I just slam my ring right on his face. And yours hasn’t shown up for five years, why the hell were you even wearing it in the first place?”

His hands venture over her curved body, exploring. They pull apart and open their eyes. They stare at each other, deep into each other's eyes. Hussaini's full of wonder and love, Nafisa's full of curiosity and passion. No words are spoken but a story worthy of them is communicated. He leans in a softly kisses up and down her neck. She lets out little whimpers of anticipation. He works his way back to her tender, smooth lips. As they kiss she rolls him over and lies on top of his strong, muscular body.

Prologue Kanua Village, Zambia; January, 1991 There was a murderous glow in the eyes of the ten year old Luyando Chimeko as she stood watch over her drunk and passed out father snoring away on the mat inside the tent that a good Samaritan had lent to them which they had come to regard as their home for the past one week.

A man hit by a car in New York in 1977 got up uninjured, but lay back down in front of the car when a bystander told him to pretend he was hurt so he could collect the insurance money. The car then rolled forward and crushed him I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

"Used to be. Gave it up when the stories started costing more than they were worth." That answer carried weight, the kind that invited questions but also warned against them. I set the mug on the low table in front of me and leaned forward slightly. "What kind of stories?" "The kind that get people hurt when they come out wrong. Or when they don't come out at all." I felt a flicker of recognition then, something tugging at the back of my mind like a half-remembered name. "You sound like someone who has been burned by the industry."

Lara POV All winter long my stepbrother's cock is warmed in my eager pussy. We fuck like rabbits in his room, in my room, in the bathroom…I get to learn everything I have ever shied away from. Curiosity fills the innocent pussy. But wait, how did I get here? December 12: thirteen days before Christmas I plan to lose my virginity this winter but I still blush about sex, and my bestie Ellie won't stop making fun of me and calling me a prude.

“Now what are we to do with her?” “Anything, my dear Clara.” replied Narissa. “Anything at all. We can bring different men to fuck her everyday until her pussy shies away from cocks.” “Good idea.” “I know, right, Loretta?” “Or we could turn your into our very own Onlyfans star. Make money from videos and pictures we sell of you.” “N-no, please.” “What do you say, Renee?” Narissa asked the woman who had been sitting on the bed the whole while. “What makes her so special that our husbands want to die because of her?”

She was going to ask her to assign the story to her. Robert and Stella were in Stella’s office. The two were going through some of the articles submitted by other workers to see which stories would sell. After seeing how successful Robert had been in his last three articles, Stella had considered his opinions important and once in a while sought his advice. “This story by Jenny is good, but we can change its angle a little bit. Focusing on the human angle will make it reach the audience. people love reading about what affects them,” Robert said. “I thought so. That is why I set aside those stories,” Stella said, setting up two cups of coffee for both of them. It was cold outside, and it was

the first man answered walking away, "How about you? I said gripping him the his shirt "No sir" he replied like someone who had seen a ghost "How about the injured patient that was brought here a while ago by a red ambulance, any ideas on where he was taken? I continued asking still holding his shirt "Hmm, he was taken to the central hospital, it just few blocks from here" he replied releasing himself off my grip, then ran away, I quickly ran to the central hospital there I found Linx, he was in the blood storage room consuming blood as he pleased, he had even killed two nurses with the aim of sucking their bloods