Fallen Book Novels & Stories

Then, expressionless, I told him, “People’s inherent flaws are in their bones. Sooner or later, they will surface. Asking this is meaningless.” Joel smiled bitterly, rubbed his face, and left. Not long after, Yorks Corporation filed for bankruptcy. On the way back home with his parents, Joel was involved in a car accident. Perhaps it was karmic retribution. A head injury left him deaf, and his left leg could no longer walk normally. He became partially disabled. His parents were fine, just minor concussions that would heal with time. Someone in the hospital said, “Joel lay on the bed, crying and laughing at the same time, muttering over and over that this was retribution to what he had done.

“I know you don’t belong here. Not because you’re not beautiful enough or wealthy enough. But because you’re convinced you don’t deserve to be here. People who feel they deserve things don’t carry themselves the way you do.” Maya stepped forward. “Okay, mystery man. That’s enough amateur psychology for one night.” He ignored her completely. His focus remained locked on me. “I’m curious what happened to make someone so thoroughly diminished. Public scandal? Professional failure? Betrayal?” “All of the above,” I said before I could stop myself. The martinis had loosened my tongue. Something flickered in his expression. Interest, maybe. Or satisfaction. “Interesting.” “What’s interesting?” I de

Her baby kicked gently, as if sensing her heartbreak. Lucian stood alone in the snow. Watching the woman he was falling in love with disappear into the night. ****** The Apartment That Doesn’t Feel Safe Anymore The penthouse was too quiet, too large and too cold. Too filled with the ghost of Lucian’s presence. Elara sat on the edge of the bed Marek escorted her to, hands trembling, her mind replaying Damien’s words over and over. He killed someone for you. A good man. Someone you trusted.

he rumbles, strengthening his thrusts so his monster of a cock hits my deepest of places. Shit, it feels good, so much better than I could even imagine. How was it that one person could make me feel like I was fading into oblivion like him? Was it because we were practically strangers? Was it because we could be caught at any second since we were in a car? Or was there something else between us? Something so much deeper than mere emotion? “More,” Ciaran growls, snapping me out of my head. “Scream my name, little mate.”

"How have you been?" Now that I'm inside this church, terrible, he replied internally. "Incredible," he said, saying something different outwardly. "I'm glad," Joshua smiled as they walked to the second floor of the church. "Thank you for coming to help us with organizing the shelves. I won't give you too much to do," he said, entering what was the library. "This shelf is called 'Fallen Books.' All the books here are listed by name and author, so it should be easier for you to organize them. If you have any questions, I'll be at the back on the left-hand side, or Miss Nelly, the secretary, will be there. Is that alright?"

Chapter 15 Author. Ana. Run…. Run…………Keep running. She told herself. And that's what her legs did. Kept running. The surrounding was covered with darkness. Trees like ghost stayed rooted either side on her way as she kept passing, her movement speedy. She doesn’t know where her feet were taking her but one thing, she knew was she needs to run and run. And Escape. Just then her eyes looked on the ground and the next instance she fell in the pit of never-ending darkness. She was sliding through the darkness moving down as if some negative energy pulling her towards itself.

His downfall is destined by the Gods. Pucha is weird! Does this mean Cayden will be defeated and fall? Eight months? Wait, that's almost here... Today is already the 7th month. But shit, this book is written like what? Years ago? Why am I affecting this book? And as it says here, mythology right? That means it's not true. Aish, why did I even read this? So I just closed the book and just looked at the front but my eyes just widened.

We all turned toward him. “This,” Uncle Lucifer said, his voice resonating through the room, “is a genuine copy of one of the Seven Books of the Fallen.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “This particular tome belongs to the realm of Wrath.” Uncle Lucifer said as I felt the room atmosphere stall at his words. The Seven Books of the Fallen were legendary, whispered about in hushed tones among angels and demons alike. “But there’s a catch,” Lucifer continued, interrupting my thoughts.

With a final defiant flourish, the pages slipped free, descending towards the ground like confetti at a forgotten celebration. Heart pounding, I bent down to retrieve the fallen book, my mind still reeling from the profound revelations I had just absorbed. Yet, as I reached out, ready to reclaim the weighty tome, my eyes widened in astonishment. Standing before me was a figure, a silhouette cast in the flickering shadows of the library's dimly lit corners.

TW-RAPE (not a scene just a mention) “The Black Hunter strikes us once yet again leaving a gruesome mess in the house of the murdered. Despite being a messy murderer, not a trace of DNA can be found. Careful. Whoever he is, what does he want and why has he targeted these specific targets?”