Good Kiss Scene Novels & Stories

Vad Wagner is the best IIF agent there is for over a decade. However, his work turned him into a prideful man and his heart into stone. He spent half of his life living with criminals that he developed some psychopathic tendencies. His life turned to turmoil when his body swapped with a teenage girl; Kylo a withdrawn, bullied teen. She explored a ritual that opened a door to the mythical world. Now, Vad has to deal with demons in the body of the weak teen girl. How will he be able to handle it? Will the reserved Kylo be able to handle the life and body of Vad? Will Vad’s reputation help her overcome her fears and trauma along the way? How will they come back to their original bodies? How will they take control of a life so different from their own? Join Vad and Kylo, clash it out against the supernatural and their inner battle against themselves. Disclaimer: Credits to the rightful owner of the pic used in my book cover.

In the seventh year of my marriage to Adrian Sandford, his ex, Celine Wheeler, came back. She posted: [We were young, reckless. We missed our shot. This time, I'm fighting for love.] That night, Adrian sat on the balcony, cigarette burning between his fingers, staring out till sunrise. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing either. Their friend group—everyone who saw them grow up—flooded the chat. Regret for them. Relief, too. They forgot I was still in there. Adrian had no clue how many times I replayed the years I chased him. Seven years. I'm tired.

Right before I hit forty, my husband hit me with: "I want a divorce." For the past ten years, I had been driving a truck outside every day to support my family, while he had been cheating on me at home. Even our child was no longer close to me. "Bad Mom! You hit Jenny! Bad Mom!" Willy cried. "I don't want Mom. I want Jenny. I wanna stay with Dad and Jenny!" Jenny. The neighbor. Single mom. Her kid and ours were tight. Ten years of grinding, running myself ragged—for two ingrates? All right! Wish your family of four a happy life! I didn't want my husband or son anymore.

In Alabama’s rot-soaked bayous, Drucilla Drakes survives by three rules: silence, scars, and never letting Louise—her Bible-thumping captor—catch her hoping. But when a schoolyard ambush leaves her bleeding beneath a stranger’s leather jacket, invisibility becomes a death sentence. Enter Dragon Morales: New Orleans’ most notorious runaway, a cartel prince turned outlaw mechanic with grease-stained hands and a death wish. He doesn’t save people—he survives them. Yet in Dru’s lashed flesh and hellfire gaze, he sees his own shattered reflection. Their bond is gasoline and matches. Dragon’s father—Colombia’s cartel kingpin—hunts them relentlessly. Louise, armed with voodoo rites and the chaos-hungry loa Marinette, vows to break Dru. Their only allies? The Lou Nwa, a bayou biker gang trading in bullets and black magic, and Papa Legba, the crossroads spirit who offers Dru a lethal bargain: *“Her soul or yours.”* Fleeing through the Deep South’s cursed underbelly, they dodge cartel hitmen, haunted swamps, and safehouses reeking of betrayal. Dark magic seeps into old wounds; family secrets tighten like nooses. Dragon swears he’s too ruined to love. Dru knows she’s too shattered to trust. But in the bayou’s choking heat, desire is a grenade they can’t outrun. This isn’t a fairytale. It’s switchblade kisses and saintly curses—a collision of fire and ruin where protectors become predators. Dru doesn’t need saving; she needs an inferno. And Dragon? He’s got a lighter and nothing left to burn. Will they raze the South to ashes, or become the sacrifice the crossroads demands? One truth remains: in the bayou, even survival leaves scars. **Warning:** No princes here. Just bayou smoke, blood-soaked magic, and the kind of love that devours.

My husband insisted that I wear high heels at the company’s annual meeting despite being pregnant. He compared me to his female secretary with a look of disdain. "Can’t you learn from Lucille? She’s eight months pregnant and still comes to work in full makeup, handling her tasks efficiently. If you don’t wear them, don’t go. I’ll be embarrassed!" He even tried to give the high heels to his secretary and take her as his date. Left with no choice, I forced myself to wear them. However, on the balcony, the secretary tripped me, spilling red wine all over me. Limping, I found my husband, only for him to sneer, "Tripping on flat ground? How clumsy!" Furious and pale with anger, I turned to leave. Someone urged him to chase after me, but he only got angrier. "How bad could it be? She’s so timid—she can’t survive without me! Just wait. When the event’s over, she’ll definitely be waiting in the car to drive me home." Alas, he was wrong. I turned and went straight to the hospital for an abortion.

Domenico Pietro de Cerintti, in the eyes of everyone was the good boy, the sacrificial lamb, the one who attended all the classes and obeyed all the rules, the one who would not let a puppy get run over by a car, the one who didn't have a girl in his bed every Friday night, the one who didn't smirk, the one who girls liked but never wanted, the one who girls used and dumped, the one who wasn't badass. He lived with that image, was content with it even with the bullying until a certain day when they crossed the line, the one line they were never to cross. He disappeared. And appeared months later, in college; the college that had a good percent of his highschool student in attendance; changed, for the worse. Rosetta D'armani, one of his mates in highschool and now his mate in college, who never bullied him but who also never saved him from the bullies. She was, as defined by the male folk, hot, sexy, drool worthy. She saw him on his first day back and lusted after him. She followed him, sought after him, chased after him with every breath in her. He made her lick his heels. After all he was badass now. He smirked now, he had girls in his bed not only every Friday night but every night, the girls wanted him, he used and dumped them now, he was badass. But oh...those bullies didn't know his definition of badass. Badass for him meant revenge. He would revenge on each one of them including his beloved girlfriend. He'd show them just how hot badass burned. One mysterious girl, one desperate girl, one perfect girl and one revengeful boy. ???

"I'm sorry, I'm in a hurry," Cole said, not breaking his gaze at the woman's beautiful eyes. "I'm trying to catch someone." The woman in front of her was like an angel, although Cole hadn't met one in his life. She smiled sheepishly. "Me, too. I'm trying to catch someone. I'm Brielle,” she said, looking adorable when her cheeks blushed. Cole's eyebrows raised, wishing he could read her mind, but it wasn't one of the skills he had. Before he could ask her, Brielle's lips curved into a seductive smile. "I'm trying to catch you," she said as she placed her hands on the back of his neck, raising her heels and kissing him passionately. Cole thought it was the sweetest kiss he had ever tasted in his lifetime, knowing it was an enemy's kiss.

When a popular guy from another school named Eustone transferred to Shinrea SHS he encountered the toughest girl ever existed. The moment Sasha punched him in the face made him thought of something good. And from that punch on, he'd irritate her more. What he didn't know was behind that tough girl is someone who is trapped in a horrid past.

He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. “Celeste, you know Isabella has been sick for years.” “Yes, I know,” I said bitterly. “I know because you remind me every single day.” He ignored the edge in my voice. “She’s not getting better. The doctors said she probably has a year left.” I swallowed hard. “And how does that concern me?” “She has one last wish,” he said quietly. “She wants to get married before she dies.” He wants to divorce me and remarry me after a year, but that’s nonsense! I’m tired of this marriage. This divorce isn’t a joke to me; I’m taking it seriously.

Shaun never expected his enemy to steal more than his pride. Nathan the arrogant, dangerous senior has a habit of taking what he wants. One drunken night. One impulsive kiss. Shaun kissed him just to mess with him. That was the plan. Nothing more. But Nathan… Nathan didn’t take it lightly. One impulsive kiss, and suddenly, Nathan was possessive, infuriating, and impossibly irresistible. Shaun thought it was just a game until Nathan’s teasing touches, daring glances, and relentless attention made it impossible to ignore. Enemies? Maybe. Teasing rivals? Definitely. But the line between hate and desire is thinner than Shaun ever imagined…