Exquisite Corpse

In October 2025, an explosion occurs at a remote lab. An unidentified substance is leaked, and the virus makes people go insane. Anyone who is bitten by these rabid creatures becomes one of them. It's like the zombies people see in movies and video games. On the first day of the explosion, my five-year-old, Joyce Fairfield, is still at kindergarten. I risk my life to hurry there, but I can't even find her corpse when I arrive. I can only look at the surveillance footage to see her face, which is ashen with fear. I also see her mouth, "Mommy!" 15 days after the explosion, I finally traverse the city and get to my mother's home. However, all that welcomes me is a destroyed apartment and blood everywhere. 20 days after the explosion, my husband, Emmett Fairfield, calls me one last time from his office, which zombies have surrounded. He tells me not to leave the house. Less than a month after the apocalypse arrives, I lose all my family. I'm alone as I struggle to survive in this dead world. The spread of the virus triggers chaos in mankind. I exchange all my supplies to save a neighboring couple from bandits, leading them to safety in a secure zone where they can live stable lives. However, my kindness is not repaid. Three years after the explosion, the secure zone is under siege by a wave of zombies. As we retreat, my neighbors shove me underneath a car so I'll distract the zombies. Then, they make a run for it and get away. Trusted neighbors betray me. As the zombies eat away at me, I can feel death looming. All I want is to see my family again. Now, I've been reborn. I have six hours before the zombie apocalypse breaks out.

Damon said nothing, but his eyes were hooded and heavy. “Just one kiss, Wendy. Just one. I have to kiss you. It’s all I’ll demand for now, and then he put his arms around her. She stood frozen in the circle of them as his heavy dark gaze followed the line of her throat Without waiting her consent, he swept his mouth over hers. Finally. Her sweetness exploded onto his tongue the moment he licked over her lips. . It was everything she’d dreamt about, their kiss. The taste, the feel, the joy at the sheer fineness of Damon Paige, in all his tall, beautifully built splendor, thrilled her and filled her with exquisite sensations. And for that moment, all the complications of getting involved with Damon melted away as if they’d never existed…. When he raised his head abruptly, she thought it was so he could say something personal and intimate. He didn’t. He stared down at her, and she could see his tortured expression before he closed his eyes briefly and then put her away from him. The look in his eyes was brooding and somber. “I should never have done that.” he said. ---------------------- Wendy Morgan relocates to New York and reunites with Deborah Paige, her best friend from high school, despite the fact that her father disagrees with her decision. But Wendy is tired of letting her father dictate every aspect of her life, especially now that he has arranged for her to marry Jordan Baker, so she is convinced that she has made the right decision by leaving. Soon, Wendy finds herself in the same situation with Damon Paige.... Will she walk away this time? She only has to pretend to be Damon's fiance for a while though.... She could do that. What could possibly go wrong?

Story Of a Mysterious Professor, a girl full of life and Mr Stranger. **** "Now you'll just follow my command." As he told me, I nodded my head meekly, sitting on the desk. "Professor wants his favourite student to stand up and come to him." As he commanded, I stood up and sauntered to him. My heartbeat is accelerating with every step which I'm taking toward him. "Now remove your top for your professor, my favourite student." As he ordered, I flushed, moving my eyelashes down. "Do it fast, Princess. I'm waiting." As he spoke, I moved my eyes up at him shyly. He pointed his finger at my top. I held the hem of my green top and pulled it over my head, gazing at his handsome face sheepishly. "Now give it to me." As he said, I instantly gave my top to him, and he inhaled my scent from the top, closing his eyes. "Your scent is exquisite, Princess." He whispered after opening his eyes. He kept my top on the table. "Now this." He pointed his finger at my bra, asking me take it off. I blushed hard before taking my hands behind and unlocking it. This is really increasing my excitement. As I removed it, he moved his eyes down at my twins and then up at me. "You're really beautiful, Princess." He complimented me, touching my heart. He pulled out his hand, and I gave my bra to him. Then like this, I pulled out my jeans and undies too and gave them to him. This is arousing my desires more. He is gazing at my body like he's gazing at the stars. "I like you like this. You are so beautiful, Princess. For me, your body is perfect from every corner." I smiled at him.

I plan on ordering some food using my husband's phone, yet I've noticed a remark that's been saved on the delivery app. "The food is for a pregnant lady. Please make sure to be hygienic and use less oil and salt when making the dishes." I can feel my heart sink. I turn my gaze toward the bathroom, where my husband is. I can't figure out why my husband, who's been firm about not wanting a child, has been ordering meals for pregnant women. After a moment of hesitation, I scroll through the delivery app's order history with shaky hands. Numerous orders have been placed with the same restaurant, one that specializes in making exquisite dishes designed for pregnant women. Each of these food orders costs more than ten thousand dollars. My husband's company address has been chosen as the delivery address, and he's also the recipient. … After exiting the delivery app, I sit on the couch and stare into space. As I look at my husband's well-defined muscles, I recall how he, who's about to hit 40, is suddenly quite invested in getting in shape over the past year. I blurt out asking, "Have you been ordering food to your office often lately?" My husband freezes for a split second. Then, he fixes me with a gentle gaze. "I do that once in a while. Why are you suddenly asking about that? By the way, I haven't had the sweet and sour meatballs you make in a long while. Can you make some for me so that I can bring them to the office for my lunch tomorrow?" I smile at him and agree to his request. Still, I toss and turn in bed as the remark about the pregnant lady in his phone keeps gnawing at me that night.

Find Him “Somebody has taken Eli.” … Olivia’s knees buckled. If not for Dean catching her, she would have hit the floor. Nothing was more torturous than the silence left behind by a missing child. Then the phone rang. Two weeks earlier… “Who is your mom?” Dean asked, wondering if he knew the woman. “Her name is Olivia Reed,” replied Eli. Dynamite just exploded in Dean’s head. The woman he once trusted, the woman who betrayed him, the woman he loved and the one he’d never been able to forget.  … Her betrayal had utterly broken him. *** Olivia - POV  She’d never believed until this moment that she could shoot and kill somebody, but she would have no hesitation if it meant saving her son’s life.  *** … he stood in her doorway, shafts of moonlight filling the room. His gaze found her sitting up in bed. “Olivia, what do you need?” he said softly. “Make love to me, just like you used to.” He’d been her only lover. She wanted to completely surrender to him and alleviate the pain and emptiness that threatened to drag her under. She needed… She wanted… Dean. She pulled her nightie over her head and tossed it across the room. In three long strides, he was next to her bed. Slipping between the sheets, leaving his boxers behind, he immediately drew her into his arms. She gasped at the fiery heat and exquisite joy of her naked skin against his. She nipped at his lips with her teeth. He groaned. Her hands explored and caressed the familiar contours of his muscled back. His sweet kisses kept coming. She murmured a low sound filled with desire, and he deepened the kiss, tasting her sweetness and passion as his tongue explored her mouth… ***

"You think you can hunt us in our own territory, little star?" Cain's voice is velvet wrapped around steel as he and his brothers flank me in the shadowy alley. "We know exactly who you are." I was a cop. Then my brother's mutilated corpse turned up in a ditch and every piece of blood-soaked evidence screamed the Vultures MC's name. Three ruthless brothers who ruled through fear, pain, and absolute dominance. So I dyed my hair blonde, erased my identity, and walked straight into the devil's den. Their bar. Their territory. Their world of sin and savagery. I'd destroy them from within or die trying. But nothing prepared me for Cain's predatory stare that strips me bare with a glance. Or Jax's twisted smile that promises delicious torment. Or Ryder's brutal hands that pin me against cold brick while his breath burns against my neck, whispering dark threats that make my body betray every principle I've ever held. Now I'm drowning in their intoxicating darkness. Leather, blood, and raw masculine hunger that consumes everything in its path. They're marking me, claiming me, breaking me down piece by piece until I can't remember who I was before them. When I finally uncover the shocking truth about my brother's murder, everything I believed shatters. The real killer has been hiding in plain sight, and now I'm caught between two deadly worlds. My oath as a cop and my surrender to these beautiful monsters. But when the lines blur between justice and vengeance, between duty and desire, how far will I fall before I lose myself completely?

At twenty-eight, I held the dubious honor of being the last unmarried socialite on New York's Upper East Side. Everyone around me was growing increasingly anxious about my single status. In my previous life, my mother arranged a matchmaking cocktail party, where I was told to choose a husband from ten handpicked elite bachelors. I bribed the event planner to place Mark West's profile at the very top—and as I had hoped, I chose him. After we married, Mark treated me with what seemed like tender affection. He even bought me an oceanfront villa in the Hamptons, making me believe I had finally found true love. But that illusion shattered the day I was nine months pregnant, just hours away from giving birth. Mark drove a scalpel straight into my abdomen—then, right in front of me, hurled our newborn onto the floor. "If you hadn't forced me into this marriage with your family's power, Sofia wouldn't have been heartbroken enough to go drinking and get drugged and assaulted. This… this is what you owe her!" He tossed the scalpel aside, then calmly let his private doctor pin down my blood-soaked body. I fought through excruciating pain for six agonizing hours, until I finally bled to death. Afterward, Mark dumped my corpse into the Hudson River. But for Sofia, he hosted a grand funeral—funded with my money, under my name—and paraded himself to the world as a grieving, devoted widower. Given a second chance at life, I refused to step foot in that cursed matchmaking event. Instead, I went straight to my mother with a demand: marry me to Robert Black—the most ruthless, cold-blooded titan of Wall Street, whose scarred face was feared by all. In the end, stripped of my financial backing, Mark's hedge fund collapsed. He became a disgraced fraudster, spat on by everyone on Wall Street.

After getting into a fight with my CEO husband, Zachary Langford, I decided to sleep in a hotel room that night out of fury. Little did I know that a video would go viral on the Internet the next day. In the video, I took turns pleasuring seven men in my birthday suit. My moans filled the room the whole time. Zachary delivered a heavy slap across my face with the video shown on his phone. "How could I have ever married a shameless slut like you?" I couldn't even defend myself. All I could do was call the police for help. But once the police were done inspecting the video, they determined that it wasn't a deepfake. They had also discovered traces of the men's and my DNA in the hotel room. Everyone went into frenzied discussions on the Internet based on the video. It was then Zachary publicly announced that he shall be divorcing me soon after. Thanks to that, my mom died of a sudden heart attack. Apparently, the heart attack was triggered out of pure fury toward me. As for my father, he got into a fatal car accident on his way to the hospital. His corpse was completely broken and battered. After I got cast out of my family, those men's wives went as far as to hire hooligans to violate me in order to get revenge on me. Not wanting to get violated, I ended up falling down the stairs while I was fleeing from them. My brain suffered from internal bleeding, which killed me in the end. Even when I breathed my last, I still failed to understand why those videos and the evidence still existed despite the fact that I had done nothing at all. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I'm having a fight with Zachary.

Christmas Eve was meant to be the culmination of seven years of long-distance longing—the day Lorenzo finally slid an engagement ring onto my finger. Instead, a sudden emergency surgery chained me to the operating table. The patient wasn't just suffering from a premature delivery and catastrophic hemorrhaging; she was riddled with infections, the biological fallout of a reckless, hedonistic lifestyle. The girl on the table spat out orders with a venomous entitlement that made my blood run cold. "My husband is the head of the Corleone family. He’s second to none, and this entire city bows to him. If you can’t save my baby, you’re all dead." My mind went blank. There was only one head of the Corleone family: Lorenzo. "You’ve got the wrong man," I said, my voice wavering despite my frown. "The news said he’s already engaged to a woman from a rival family for a strategic alliance." The girl looked at me as if I’d just told a pathetic joke. She surveyed me with a mocking sneer. "Oh, he’s mentioned that woman. He said she’s like a cold corpse—that even touching her makes him sick to his stomach. She doesn't provide him a fraction of the pleasure I do." She smirked. "He heard something happened to the baby. He’s en route from Sicily right now with his personal detail." She flicked her phone screen open. There it was: a photo of her and Lorenzo, locked in a suffocatingly intimate embrace. I froze. A second later, a notification from Lorenzo vibrated against my palm. “Darlin’, something urgent came up tonight. I’m skipping the engagement dinner. I’ll make it up to you later.” Since they were so utterly in love, I decided to give them exactly what they wanted. I dialed a number that had been silent for three years—the number of the true mastermind of the underworld, Don Sebastian. "Does your proposal from three years ago still stand?"

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.