Gums Randomly Bleeding Without Brushing Novels & Stories

My sister and I were caught up in a severe car accident during a family road trip down the mountain for the New Year. Shattered glass pierced straight through my heart. Amid the excruciating pain, my fiance and family insisted the rescue team take my sister, who only had a scratched arm, to the hospital first. As I cried out for them to save me, my fiance snapped at me. “Carol, you should know when to stop vying for attention! “Delila is bleeding so much. Why must you compete with her?” Dad shook his head and sighed while Mom looked at me with disgust. I forced my stiff neck to look over. They were all surrounding my younger sister. She only sported a faint red mark on her arm. No one saw the blood gushing from my chest. No one heard my fading heartbeat. I died during that snowy, bitterly frigid night. When they finally remembered me and came across my cold body, my fiance and family went mad.

They said I was cursed. Broken. Unworthy of love. I believed them—until the night Alpha Thorne Blackwater looked into my eyes and called me his mate. For one perfect heartbeat, I thought I'd finally found where I belonged. Then he ripped it all away. He rejected me in front of twelve packs, called me a disease, and threw me to the wolves like trash. They hunted me. Broke me. Left me bleeding in a forest where nothing survives. But I didn't die. Something ancient woke up inside me instead—something that feeds on pain, on rage, on every scar he gave me. Now I'm back, and I'm not the weak little wolf he destroyed. I'm the nightmare he created. Thorne wants me back? He can beg. He can crawl. He can suffer the way I did. And maybe—just maybe—I'll let him live long enough to regret ever letting me go.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, I discovered I was two months pregnant. I wanted to surprise Owen Reed with the news. However, on my way home with the gift-wrapped ultrasound report, I got caught in a street shootout. A stray bullet tore into my abdomen. Right as I collapsed on the pavement, writhing in pain, Owen appeared out of nowhere. He had told me he was away on business and would not be home until evening, but here he was, frantically shoving through the crowd. He ran right past me and toward a woman up ahead. "I'm sorry I'm late. Don't worry, nothing's going to happen to you." His voice was soft, gentler than I had ever heard it. He swept her up in his arms and disappeared down the street, surrounded by bodyguards. He never saw me. I was barely three feet away, bleeding out on the ground. When I woke up in the hospital, my baby was gone. That was when I knew I was done with this marriage.

Aliyah Rhodes has three rules: 1. Don’t stop. 2. Don’t look. 3. Don’t get involved. She breaks all three when she finds Dominic Blackwood bleeding out in her alley at 11:47 PM. She saves his life. He pays her tuition. She says don’t follow. He buys her building. She says don’t touch. He kills the man who tries. Dominic Blackwood is a billionaire. A don. Wanted for triple homicide. He doesn’t make threats. He makes promises. _You’re safe. That’s the only rule that matters._ Aliyah’s broke, pissed, and done being owned by anyone. But $260K says she’s already his. And his aunt wants her dead. He won’t let her go. She won’t say thank you. Neither of them runs. *Owned by the Don* is a dark, open-door romance where debt is a weapon, “no” is a dare, and love looks a lot like surveillance.

They threw her into the rain—pregnant, bleeding, powerless. Her husband watched. Her best friend smiled. His family laughed. They called her worthless, barren and useless. They were wrong. Serena lost everything that night: her baby, her dignity, her life as she knew it. But from the ashes of that betrayal, she rose as someone they never saw coming, the secret heiress to a billionaire empire, now the most powerful woman in the country. Marcus begged for the contract that would save his failing company. He got it along with a new boss. His ex-wife. Now she owns everything he has. His business. His assets. His future. Marcus is begging for mercy. His mother is ruined. His sister is in prison. Sarah is forgotten. And Serena? She's just getting started. With Ethan Ashford, the most dangerous billionaire who caught her when she fell and refuses to let her go—at her side, Serena is untouchable. The Wellingtons destroyed the wrong woman. Now she'll take everything they love, piece by piece.

"Touch me until I cum so hard that I forget my own name," I gasped, my lips brushing his, trembling beneath the weight of his stare. "You will forget more than that, wife," he rasped, gripping my throat with one hand and sliding the other down my body, "I will make you cum until you forget how to fight your feelings for me." * Elena Thrown into a marriage with the city’s most dangerous mafia king, I had one mission, to seduce him, overwhelm him and make him end it. So, I moaned louder, touched deeper, played the part of a woman consumed by lust, all in hopes he would be repulsed. But Dominic Moretti doesn’t fall for games. He plays them better. Colder, rougher and unrelenting. Every fake moan becomes real. Every forced kiss turns savage. And every time I think that I have the upper hand, he flips me over and makes me forget I ever wanted to get out of this marriage. He doesn’t believe in love. I don’t believe in staying. But when lust ignites war and pleasure starts to hurt in all the right ways, it’s no longer about breaking the marriage, it’s about surviving it. One of us will break. One of us will beg. But we will be both drenched in each other's lust before it’s all over.

“What do you think people would say if they found out you don’t have a d**k?” Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. “Or if they discovered these voluptuous br**sts you’ve been hiding so well?” A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened ni**les, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes. “Which do you think they’d call you?” he murmured, eyes gleaming. “A boy with t*ts… or a d**kless little fraud?” I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me. “The term you’re looking for is ‘girl,’” came Xavier’s smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. “So tell me, little girl… what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?” Christian’s smirk widened. “She wants to be devoured by boys like us.” His fingers gave my ni**le one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. “And I’m more than happy to give her a taste.”

After the death of his first love, Caspian Stormcrown hated me for ten years. No matter how carefully I tried to please him, he met me with nothing but sneers. "If you really want to make me happy, go and die," he said. The words cut deep. Yet when a burning beam collapsed during the palace fire, he shoved me out of the way and died in my stead. He lay in my arms as his life faded. When I reached for him, he spent his last strength brushing my hand aside. "Evelyn Frostwood, how much better would my life have been if I had never met you…" he whispered. At the funeral, his mother sobbed until she could barely remain standing. "This is my fault," she cried. "I never should have forced you to marry her. If I had let you marry Amelia instead, would today have ended differently?" His father looked at me with open hatred. "Caspian saved you three times. Why did you only ever bring him disaster? Why did you live instead of him?" Everyone regretted that Caspian married me. So did I. In the end, I leapt from Starfall Tower and returned to the past, 10 years earlier. This time, I chose to sever every tie between Caspian and me and give everyone the ending they wanted.

In the blood-soaked mountain town of Black Hollow, every full moon ends with a body and a lie. Elara Ashwood has lived her life by one rule: never trust a man who knows your scent. Raised by her grandmother after her mother vanished into the forest and her father died in a “hunting accident,” Elara knows the forest is dangerous, and the wolves hiding in plain sight are deadlier. But when strangers arrive during the winter eclipse, the forest screams with fury and people begin to disappear. Among them is Kael Draven, a cold, dangerous Alpha with silver eyes that linger too long on her skin, as if he already owns her. The night he bites her is no accident. Elara soon discovers she is not only Kael’s fated mate but also the one prophesied to destroy his bloodline. Rejected and marked, she flees into the forest, awakening a darker force within herself—an ancient wolf that feeds on fear, desire, and vengeance. The more she resists her nature, the harder it becomes to control. As enemies close in and the moon turns red, Kael hunts her—not to kill her, but because his body, his wolf, and his soul answer only to her. Every encounter is charged with hunger: claws brushing skin, breath against necks, restraint breaking slowly, painfully. Their love becomes dangerous, their desire a weapon. In Black Hollow, the true horror is not the beasts in the forest—it is the one you crave in the dark. And sometimes, giving in to that hunger is the only way to survive.

Sara's legs straddling Austin's lap, their lips clashed in a fierce, passionate kiss. The sound of their lips meeting was like a spark, igniting a flame that threatened to consume them. "Mmm," Sara murmured, her lips vibrating against Austin's. "I hate you," Austin growled, his hands grasping her hips, pulling her closer. His fingers dug into her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Sara's hands were just as busy, her fingers tracing the lines of Austin's face, her thumbs brushing against his lips. "I hate you too," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their kissing. Their lips parted for a moment, and Austin's tongue darted out, tracing the curve of Sara's lower lip. She moaned, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Sara's hands began to roam, her fingers tracing the contours of Austin's chest. She reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. As she exposed his chest, Austin's eyes locked onto hers, a warning flashing in their depths. "You'll hate me tomorrow," he said, his voice low and rough. Sara's eyes flashed with defiance, her hands continuing to explore Austin's chest. "We don't like each other anyway," she said, her voice husky with desire.