Forehead Touching Novels & Stories

The vampire duke of Valestead was not a man to be trifled with. He was centuries years old and full of hate for humans because of the death of his beloved mate; Katherine during the mass killing of all supernatural creatures. Meeting Guinevere Pedro must be the fates way of playing with me because of her exact resemblance to his dead wife and she is also an enemy just because she was human. The duke decides to marry her to find out exactly why she looks like his dead wife and then to kill her to satisfy his animalistic urge but what he did not expect was that she would her innocence touching him in places he never knew existed and once again… the duke's dead heart shall awaken before it is too late for both of them and before the war of old strikes again

“Do you know a way out?” He asked, as he drove the sword through a guard running towards us. I flinched as his blood splattered all over us. When I did not answer, he looked at me again. “Do you know a way out, your highness?” I nodded. “Then run as fast as your legs can carry you. Do not turn back.” No. “I want to help.” The anger he felt from my words, could be seen as he attacked another guard all the while shielding me from the sword of the enemy. “RUN.” He said his eyes glaring into my soul, fear touching every cell of mine yet somehow his presence wanted me to believe that I had no other option than to run.

My name is Ember Haiven. I’ve been alone and on the run my entire life. Everything changed when I became Kieran’s surrogate in exchange for his protection. I had no idea that I would fall in love with this dragon shifter and enter a world that I believed existed only in my dreams. “Is that what you want?” he asked. “Yes…” I said feeling myself go breathless in his arms. “I never thought I’d be able to touch another person like this and now, I just don’t want this feeling to end.” He kissed me sweetly, pulling me closer and then rested his forehead against mine. I could see the color drain from his face and his shoulders sag like I’d ripped the heart from his chest. And maybe I had. It felt like my own was trying to claw its way from my skin. He moved to take a step forward but then thought better of it. Surrogate of the Sleeping Dragon is written by Claire Wilkins, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

My father was hit by a car. When I found the perpetrator, my wife, Jessie Ford, stepped out of the passenger seat with her clothes in disarray. I stayed at the hospital to care for my father, yet Jessie stayed with the perpetrator at the police station while he was being questioned. I refused to settle the case, and she picked up a thermos and struck my head. “He’s a lawyer. Do you want to ruin his career? What are you trying to do?” I calmly wiped the blood from my forehead and looked at Jessie, who stood there flustered and slow to understand the situation. This was not Jessie’s first affair, but it was the most serious one. I suddenly remembered the fifth year of our marriage when she grinned at me and said, “Don’t you get tired of sleeping with only one person for the rest of your life? To be fair, I won’t interfere with how you fool around. What I give them is sex; what I give you is love.” Later, I did exactly what she suggested and got involved with the girl she sent to me, yet she begged me to come back.

The air between them became hotter as she bit her lip, trying to stop herself from smiling so much. The closet was dark and stuffy, so small that their bodies were almost touching, her heart thumped like crazy. "D-Derek" She called out as he hummed in response, holding unto his sides for some unknown reason. "Will you be my boyfriend?" She blurted out, closing her eyes so she wouldn't see his reaction, he groaned, it almost broke her heart but when she looked down, she saw his shirt was now soaked. Blood trailing down his abdomen which made her gasp, slamming open the closet door. "Somebody call an ambulance!" She yelled as the guy she had just asked out dropped limp to the ground like a pack of soggy spaghetti. *A Nigerian themed novel* |16+

I died the night I caught my husband cheating—with my sister. My life ended with blood on my lips and a baby in my womb. But fate gave me a second chance. I woke up five years in the past, right before I married the wrong man. Now I won’t be sweet. I won’t be kind. I will protect my unborn baby, and I will destroy those who betrayed me. But I never expected him—the cold, rich, dangerous CEO who once ignored me—now he’s chasing me, touching me, claiming me like I belong to him. He says I’m his obsession. His future. His wife. But I have secrets, and I have revenge to serve. Will love ruin my plans… or save my soul?

He slammed her back against the closed door making her grit her teeth as she glared at him. “Camellia,” his voice was dripping with controlled fury yet that endearment rolled off his tongue in a raspy growl. “I don’t like other men touching you,” he grumbled, grabbing her jaw, his fingers firmly pressing into her cheeks as he made her hazel eyes look into his dark greys. “I’m not yours,” she said with gathered-up bravado though his intimidating presence made her feel so timid. He leaned closer as her eyes fell on the camellia flower that was inked on his neck. His hot breath tickled her lips as his intense stare lingered on her lips. “You’re mine, Camellia. Mine!” With a low growl, he crashed his lips on hers. DARK ROMANCE!

"I...Is he my son?" He asked in shock when he saw my son Aldo standing beside me, and I tried to hide Aldo behind my body protectively, scared that now he might take my son from me when he finds out that he is his son, and all this time I have been keeping it a secret. "No! He is not." I lied, trying to sound confident, but I knew I was failing miserably as my forehead was sweaty and my tone was trembling. "Shut up, Sab. Don't lie to me, because you clearly mentioned that the only man who has been inside of you is me. And, even if you lie, no one is going to believe that this boy isn't my son because he looks just like me. Now, the question is, Why did you keep him away from me all this time? Why?!" he barked out the last sentence in anger, making me flinch and Aldo cry out of fear from this man. The Ruthless Italian Tycoon that I had one night stand with and ended up pregnant with his secret heir.

The mafia's maid. "Are you ready?" Damon asked. "Of course. I can't even imagine what torture my sister must be going through right now." Ashley answered. "Mom and dad won't allow this and she needs help, I can sacrifice myself." She wore a deep frown. The anger inside Ashely's heart was burning and that can't be hidden. "Okay then, just follow my instructions and report to me everything he does." Damon continued, "but if you feel you're in danger," he leaned forward from the front seat and placed her hands on his, "please leave immediately." He looked at her seriously. His forehead was wrinkled as he stared seriously at her. "And one more vital information." "What is it?" She inquiried. "He's a heart throb. Promise you will never get attracted to him." "Okay." She half smiled. ***** Ashley is a nineteen year old college girl striving to survive school when her younger sister gets kidnapped by a mafia boss. She has to go undercover as a maid to rescue her sister with some help from Damon. The plan was to get information, save her sister and leave. No falling in love. Easy right?

My son spiked a sudden high fever, scorching like a flame under my touch. I frantically dialed 911 for help, but the dispatcher on the line kept repeating questions, dragging it out. By the time the ambulance siren finally wailed in the distance, my son had already grown cold and still in my arms. Less than a year later, my husband and I split up amid endless grief and finger-pointing. I dragged on like an empty shell until one day I got an e-invite to his wedding. The moment I clicked the voice message, my blood ran cold. The bride's voice echoed exactly like that sluggish dispatcher from back then. In a breakdown, I bolted out of the house and got caught in the path of a speeding subway train, plunging me into darkness. When I opened my eyes again, my son's cries pierced the air from the next room, his forehead blazing hot against my palm. My husband thrust the phone toward me. "Quick, call 911! I'll grab a cold compress." My hands trembled as I dialed, and a chillingly familiar voice answered, "Hello, 911 emergency services."