Good Morning Monster

When someone tries to break the No Nut November rule, the haunted vibrators will dish out spine chilling, blood curdling and mind breaking punishments instead of heart warming, toe curling, mind numbing pleasures. Watch these horny sinners meet their fitting ends. Haunted Vibrators do not discriminate genders, age or sexuality. If you nut in No Nut November, you get neutered.

Everybody wants to be protected. Everybody wants to be secured. Sa bawat kwento, pag isa kang "importanteng" tao, your life will be filled with threats kaya may mga taong papaligid sa iyo para protektahan ka, the guardians. Minsan, o di kaya halos lagi nalang, the damsel in distress ang laging prinoprotektahan. Nangangarap ng kanilang "Prince Charming" o di kaya ng isang "Knight in Shining Armor" ...pero ngayon, papatunayan ko sa inyo na ang isang babae ay kaya ring protektahan ang isang "importanteng" tao... yun nga lang... ...he's a badboy. I am guarding the badboy at ito ang aking kwento.

“Alina, you will get late for school again” I heard Dad banging on my door. “Last 10 min” I mumble, but my eyes widen. I was with Uncle Harrison. Did Dad find us? “Alina…” I opened my eyes, I was in my room and Harrison was looking at me with a warm smile wearing his signature suit. “I am taking a bath” I yelled. “Come fast, your breakfast is ready,” Dad said before leaving. “Good morning” Uncle Harrison came to bed cupping my face he kissed me. “Good morning” I whispered on his lips. “When did you bring me here,” I asked. “You were sleeping,” He said, scooping me in his arms and entering my bathroom. “This hide and seek is terrible” I sighed. “But it's fun” He chuckled. Author Note... Hello dear Readers, Meet Alina and her family. The story of love, care, romance and lots of suspense..

I have just secured a massive ten-million-dollar deal during the Black Friday Sales. I have endured several days of hectic work, yet I still find myself unable to turn down my girlfriend, Charlotte Ward. We spend the night in passionate abandon and finally fall into a heavy, restful sleep. The next morning, a loud thud jolts me awake. When I open my eyes, I realize that it's my luggage. Charlotte suddenly says, "This is the end for us, Robert. It's time for you to move out. I've already wired the money for your past services, along with your salary. So get going." I find myself caught in a daze and about to move to question her, but she stops me dead, jabbing her fingers into my chest. "Know your place, Robert. You're nothing but a gigolo to me. I might, maybe, let you keep your job in Ward Group if you beg." I almost reach out to grab her wrist but stop myself. Instead, I smile broadly and say, "You've got it all wrong. Your company wouldn't survive without me, Charlotte."

Soul Eaters"It started out slowly, quietly; as epidemics usually do... This was something else, something that could only be dreamt up in the darkest recesses of the mind."With the world coming to an end, Vicki's black and white world is about to be shaken to the core. She must relearn all she's ever known and believed. She must wake up in time to take a path only she can take. But who can she trust? Will she be able to see past her narrow views of the world?Journey for the SoulsThe world is a tomb. Death, destruction and chaos are at their doorstep threatening everything they hold dear. Soul Eaters. A name designed to strike fear into even the bravest. Between fighting her family and the very world any woman would lose herself to the strain. But Vicki has to hold it together. She has to survive otherwise it's not just her soul at stake.*Extreme violence* *18+* *Some content may disturb*Soul Eaters is created by R.L. Ankney, an eGlobal Creative Publishing Signed Author.

I worked at a sales job and felt pretty good about my work. Then, Vivian appeared. She was a new intern with an insatiable curiosity for others’ private affairs. On Valentine’s Day, my husband, Henry Ambrose, bought a million dollars’ worth of bags from me to help me meet my sales target. Just as I left work to meet him for a date, Vivian sent a snide message. [Your Fitbit just logged an extra thousand steps. That’s literally the exact distance to the hotel next door. Nice work, Lily! You close a million-dollar deal and immediately head to the hotel with the client?] I coldly fired back, [If you’re this desperate to stalk people, you should’ve just joined the K-9 unit.] That very night, parcels of adult toys appeared on my doorstep. Vivian had written a nasty post that had gone viral, and things turned out like this! [This Salesgirl Slept With My Client and Stole My Million-Dollar Commission on Valentine’s Day!] A pair of my ripped silk stockings, which I had tossed in the trash, became her “proof” that I had seduced a client during work hours. Vivian was painted as the victim, while I was viciously smeared as a “salesgirl who slept with clients for commissions.” What Vivian did not know was that Henry was actually a leading researcher worth billions. I only took the sales job because I was bored and wanted to experience something new.

On International Women's Day, I spent twelve hours straight in a live stream, selling $5 million worth of product. When it came time to settle my commission, my aunt and boss, Sandra Holt, quietly transferred my $400,000 cut into her own account and handed me $500, labeled as a meal stipend. She took my hand with a warm, motherly smile. "Sweetheart, you're still an intern. Taking that much money at your age would hurt your career development. Let me hold onto it for you. Put it toward a car someday." I looked at the sharp calculation behind her kind eyes. I didn't argue. I took the money without a word. That night, I deleted my account and vanished, taking my entire product-sourcing system with me. The next morning, Aunt Sandra stared at a live stream with ten viewers and finally started blowing up my phone.

I drive a Rolls-Royce to the venue where my high school reunion is held. When my former classmates ask me how much the Rolls-Royce costs, I tell them that it belongs to the company. They begin telling everyone behind my back that I work as a company driver, and that I'm not living a good life at the moment. Then again, the car does belong to the company. It's just that the company is mine.

On the day the male influencer patient was discharged, he posted a tearful video accusing my chaste, principled doctor wife of sexually assaulting him. In the clip, he cowered in a corner of the hospital, trembling, his clothes disheveled. With a terrified cry of "Dr. Shelby," he abruptly cut the footage. Overnight, my wife became a monster in a white coat—public enemy number one across the internet. We begged him, again and again, to come forward and clarify the truth. Instead, he posted an injury assessment report and wept about being bullied by his doctor. My wife had no way to defend herself. She was suspended pending investigation—and in the end, she leapt from the thirtieth floor. I endured humiliation and waited for the truth to surface. When it finally did, I obtained a reexamination report that proved her innocence. But by then, no one cared about the truth anymore. And I, consumed by despair, died of cancer. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day that patient was first admitted. This time, I begged my wife to take leave—I wanted to take her away from this doomed fate. But my gentle wife wrapped her arms around me, her eyes red, and said, "Don't be afraid, honey. This time… I won't run away."

Mom always said my entire life ran on luck. When I ranked first in my class, she said, "You just guessed really well." When I won a gold medal, she said, "The judges must've been blind." When I got into Westridge University, she told everyone, "This kid has no real ability, just good luck!" So on my first day of college, she tossed me a book of scratch cards. "Since your luck's so good anyway, might as well let it handle your living expenses too. "You get one book per semester. However much you scratch off is all you get. "And just so you can't come crying to me about being broke, I'm blocking you now. I'll add you back next semester." With that, she ignored every one of my desperate pleas and blocked me on every single platform. I wanted to cry but could not even manage tears. All I could do was scratch two cards every day. On good days, I would win 20 to 50 dollars. Most days, I won absolutely nothing. I survived by sneaking expired cookies out of my roommates' trash. By the last week of the semester, I had developed severe anemia. As I used every ounce of strength to scratch the final card, I laughed. Mom was right. My luck really was incredible.