Fictional Short Story Novels & Stories

“I have a book I think you might enjoy." "What is it about?" I asked him curiously. "Most servants can't read. I usually read for them." "It's a book of short stories. Most are fairy tales- Half-fish people want to be full people. A princess trying to beat her pre-destined fate. Children who are abandoned in the woods try to find their way home. There are several stories within the book." "Sounds interesting," I replied, watching Bart rejoin us. I got up quickly to help him with the trays.

“Make it a good one.” “Oh, I shall!” it chittered, and with a flourish, it conjured a new narrative pocket in our world. This one wasn't tiny. It was a full-scale, shimmering mirage that overlay a corner of the garden. It depicted a classic, sweeping fantasy epic—knights, dragons, a quest for a glowing mcguffin. But something was off. The knight kept tripping over his own cloak. The dragon was afraid of heights. The glowing mcguffin was just a very persuasive lightbulb.

Every instinct screamed to give in, to type sonething reckless. I took a sharp breath, forcing my fingers to move against their own will, typing a lie I desperately wanted to be true. Me: “This isn’t going to work, Selene.” The words looked hollow on the screen. A pathetic attempt to assert control I’d already lost. A part of me, a part of me I hated, hoped she’d argue. That she’d break my resistance. The typing bubbles appeared instantly. They bounced once, twice, a taunting little ellipse. Then, her reply hit the screen:

“Then maybe that’s your answer.” Later that night, Ryan stood by his window. The streetlights blurred in the distance. His inbox pinged again a reply from L. Tansey, offering a call. He didn’t answer yet. Instead, he opened a blank page. And he typed: “A Story That Doesn’t Belong To You” by Ryan Calloway He stared at the title for a long moment. Then under it, he wrote: “This isn’t a story about revenge. It’s about reclaiming.” Two weeks later.

She couldn’t help thinking about him, and wished that the smaller dildo inside her was in fact his huge member, drilling her intensely. But if she wasn’t going to give it up to Emeka there was no way she was going to give it up to some stranger. This was just a fantasy, that was all, just her imagination running wild.

He’d moved in six months ago after Mom accepted his proposal, and from the first night I’d caught him watching me across the dinner table—eyes lingering on the curve of my throat when I swallowed wine, on the way my tank top clung when I leaned forward—I’d known we were already in trouble. I told myself it was nothing. A harmless fantasy. But fantasies don’t leave you soaked and aching at three a.m. Fantasies don’t make you slip out of bed at dawn on your wedding morning, barefoot and wearing only the thin silk camisole and boy shorts you’d planned to wear under your dress later.

“Alright, hotshot. I dare you to follow me to the Vault.” Emma frowned. “What’s that?” He chuckled, shaking his head at her amusing question. “Well, it’s the hottest, legendary club in the city and no one gets in without a connection or a fake ID. Sneak in with me tonight, and I’ll never call you boring again.” “Club?” She asked, looking away, lost in thought. Jake sneered. “It’s known as the kind of place where rules go to die. You can call it dangerous but it’s also very exciting. You dare?”

Those small moments of encouragement make me want to keep writing, even on the days when it’s hard. This story might not be perfect, but it’s honest. Every chapter is written with effort and thought. Some parts may move fast, others a bit slower but that’s how stories breathe. I hope, somewhere in between, you find something that sticks with you. --- PREFACE Before you start, I want to say this clearly: This is a work of fiction. Everything you’ll read — the names, places, businesses, and events comes from imagination. Some details may feel familiar, but they’re not taken from real life. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, or to actual events, is purely coincidental.

Kamala asked and he nodded. “A couple of my crazy guys back in college spoke about it. So it was the fastest way to get the money that I could think of. I signed for one month and by two weeks, I was able to clear the debt and get my home back. I know my story sounds unbelievable in this century but it's my truth” Kamala pulled him in for a hug. They lay back down and she narrated her own story to him, her face wet with tears when she was done.

Her voice took on a whiny tone as she replied, "I... I was trying to plan a surprise for you, getting them to brainstorm..." She did not get to finish because Yoel let out a mocking laugh. "Sheila, your boyfriend can't handle a joke. You try to plan a surprise for him, and he ends up scaring you instead." I rose to my feet, my gaze shifting to him. "Oh, really? I've got a surprise of my own." My eyes swept the room, finally settling on the coffee table and the vase Sheila adored. It was a piece of crystal glass, supposedly crafted by some renowned artist from Itania, Sheila's absolute favorite.