Good Fantasy Novels & Stories

It's all a fantasy. Fable has been my escape. An unhealthy one. A safe pretend world where I could bury myself. Just like how Zee cried after she finished the final Harry Potter book, or how Jamie bases so much of her worth on the fictional version of herself that lives across a thousand Instagram pics, in the comments and likes of a thousand strangers. Just carefully constructed lies to comfort and lull. Dreams.

She typed "Oh great, Gwen." Means anger. So you have anger issues? Gwenevere leaned backwards. "No! I dont." Nope, its something I have overcome. I have eighty percent tolerance for any one, even annoying people. You have some good lying skills, Gwen. Williams nodded. Any similarities with Melancholies? Gwenevere scoffed No, they are two worlds apart. Opposites. There can be few similarities though. Gwenevere shrugged and immediately she tapped on the send button, a call came in.

Noah and Cole each took their seat beside me. “What exactly is your type?” He inquired. His voice was smooth, velvety the type that made you sin before you could ever realise it. I couldn't let them realise they were affecting me. “Someone good looking, brilliant, treats me nicely, gives me butterflies and can swoop me off my feet. Someone like…” “Scott?”

This is a work of dark fantasy fiction and should be read with an open mind and a clear understanding of its mature and controversial themes. Happy Reading ! You can follow my F******k page, Mia X Novels and I*******m Account: miaxnovels, for more stories !

Until dawn crept through the curtains. Until the package arrived. Until tomorrow became today. And the fantasy The forbidden, addictive, all-consuming fantasy Became forever. Fade out on the snow. On two new passports lying open on the dresser. On two gold bands glinting in the wea k morning light. On her moan soft, satisfied as he whispered against her skin: “The fantasy never has to end.”

A happily ever after. The End

I walked towards him as he is seated majestically on his golden throne with his wizard Harrod standing next to him. Harrod makes all kinds of medicines and black magic for father. "Father, you sent for me." I say with a small bow. "Yes." He replies. "What is it father?." I asked politely. He faced Harrod and gestures at him to speak up. Harrod turned to me and bowed. " My prince, i'm afraid there's no cure for the king's deformed hand in this kingdom." He says. I glanced at father's left deformed arm and sighed. He always uses a golden glove to hide it.

I sneer, dragging her back to Anastasia and march right back into the fracas of magic. Magical lights of blue, green, purple, yellow, red, gold splash across the sky. It's actually really pretty. It's funny because the black magic coming from the Abyss isn't even half as powerful as ours is. They don't actually know how to use offensive magic. All they are able to do is put up weak shields that crumble moments later. I'd laugh... but now's not the time.

“I can handle myself. And if this is about HIM, you should know better than to think I actually got hurt by that cheap game.” His voice softened, but his eyes glinted. “Besides… it’s his loss. Dante and Maya? they’re different. It’s like I’m the queen on a chessboard and....I like that feeling, I enjoy the thrill. Watching them starve and crave me—” he smirked, air-quoting with his fingers, “—I’m still messing an Enigma up.”

She felt like a child who had wondered into an R rated movie. "Our employees are all chosen for their exceptional physical traits. All the men are at least six feet tall, all are younger than thirty, and all are-" Here Mrs. Hartley hesitated, making Emma look up. There was a sparkle in her eyes as she held her hands a little over a foot apart. "-well endowed," she finished. "The ladies are also chosen carefully," she continued. "They are all well-toned and have a bra size of at least DD. A dozen ladies are available for fantasy play, as well as more than twenty males."