I'm Dead Inside Meme Novels & Stories

"No one will ever be able to murder me; they would never dare." Galante, Carmine. I'm quite aware that I'm not a good man. People were terrified and respected when they heard my name, "Lord" Rolly Exruto Guevara. All in the sake of power, I committed dreadful, brutal, heartless, remorseless, violent things. I was the Capo of The Family, an American Italian crime gang. It's the mafia. Many females want to be at the bottom of my ruthless Mafia, but a man must look for his wife, not a woman who looks for her husband. I want to marry a lady or perhaps have children with a woman. It's what the males in my environment did to get more power and become more powerful. The fruits of my power shall inherit the power. That was my first encounter with Lara Sylvio, Clover's lovely and voluptuous secretary. She is going to be mine. I have her. l id never had such strong feelings for anybody or anything as I had for Lara. Her skin and lips made me feel as though there was something missing in this world, and she filled it in. I wanted Lara to the bone, and I'd make her mine for the rest of my life, not just for one night. A mafia is always a Mafia.

Grim Marie knows far too much about the wolves of the world, a world where little girls go missing. After all, she had married one before she/he showed his claws, and what that wolf did to her little girl was unforgiveable. Grim Marie isn’t certain if she can ever forgive herself for putting her Little Aleta in harm’s way. When Grandmother becomes ill, Aleta offers to take the bus through the concrete forest to Grandmother’s house to bring her some goodies. She knows the way. What could possibly go wrong? In this modern day retelling of Little Red Riding Hood, the wolf takes to the city streets to capture his prey, but the hunter is close behind him. With Grim Marie on the prowl, the hunter becomes the hunted. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

Camila thought she'd hit rock bottom when she discovered her husband's infidelity with her own cousin, but that devastating betrayal turned out to be only the beginning - a life-altering accident would soon strip her of her very identity. But when she was forced to fake her own death and assume a new identity, she realized she had been accidentally given a second chance. This new life came with a new discovery that Camila, the once shameful and disgraceful wife of the powerful Miller family, turned out to be a force to be reckoned with, a rival worthy of respect, and a woman not to be underestimated. Not even her husband stood a chance.

From bestselling author Emily Goodwin comes the epic start to a sexy and exciting paranormal romance series... Never trust a vampire. I might have learned that lesson the hard way. But when I find myself in a vampire-owned bar, I don’t have much of a choice. With vampires still trying to assimilate into mainstream society, I’ve done Lucas King a favor by stopping one of his patrons from draining a human dry in the basement of his bar. A favor he'd prefer to repay in bed than in kind. Vampires and witches have had more than a jaded history, and when witches start showing up dead in surrounding covens, all signs point to something old and powerful. Something that knows the ways of the witches.Something--or someone--like Lucas. What's worse than trusting a vampire? Falling in love with one.Dead of Night a vampire/witch romance and is book one in the Thorne Hill series.

Alpha Darell doesn't want a mate, and neither does he want to settle down as a family man. “Why have a wife when you can have many girlfriends?” He'd normally say. And unsurprisingly Darell's 27th birthday, which is also his Mate Selection day, becomes the happiest day of his life. Why? The Priest says his ordained mate is dead. But this joyous day soon becomes Darell's worst, when he meets his so-called dead mate—A vampire woman who had just woken up from a deep many years ago.

What if Ralfh finds out that the person he loves is the one he has been looking for a time? Can he still accept Shannie? Will he be able to imprison it? Or will she just let it go? But what he wants is to give justice to his mother that he has long sought. What should Shannie do to avoid doing things she doesn't want to do?

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.

Ever since my wife had that oversized custom sofa delivered, she'd been sleeping in the living room every night. Whenever I tried to bring her back to the bedroom, she brushed me off with the same excuse—she was tired. Sometimes, she even locked the bedroom door from the outside. I would hear muffled, muffled sounds coming from the living room late into the night. The door wouldn't open again until the next morning. I couldn't take it anymore. The day she gave birth, she had just been wheeled out of the delivery room, still lying on the hospital bed, too weak to even sit up. I refused to hold the baby. Instead, I told her I wanted a divorce. Her eyes turned red as she stared at me. "Just because I've been sleeping on the couch every night, you're divorcing me, right after I give birth to our child?" I didn't hesitate. "Yeah."

After getting into an accident, I pretend to be an amnesiac to pull a prank on my husband and son. "Who are you guys?" I ask. A hint of delight flickers in my son's eyes. He pulls a woman waiting outside the hospital ward inside and says, "My parents and I came to visit you, ma'am." My husband watches all of this happen without saying a word. He doesn't correct our son.

Good only for her Kind only to her Deadly when it comes to her. LETHU My life was normal, as normal as life can get. Alone, lonely, ‘I hate my job’ kind of normal until I found out all along I had not really been alone. For six years he has been in my life. For six years he has watched, touched, and held my body as if it was his to hold. It is until I am kidnapped that I meet him, my stalker. No one will touch me with him still breathing. He would burn the whole world to see me smile. Deep, toe-curling, and unconditional love. He would kill for me and he would die for me. He is obsessed and I am obsessed with being obsessively his.