Imperfect Comic Novels & Stories

Vincent Mercer wasn't as good as he appeared. He was more than that. And now she had no choice but to find out exactly what that was.

After catching my supposedly frigid wife, Emmy Winslow, aroused by our household robot butler, I swallowed my disgust and sent the machine to a destruction facility. I never expected that decision to cost her life. On the way to chase after the robot, Emmy was involved in a horrific car accident and died at the scene. From that day on, I became notorious in our social circle as the jealous husband who drove his wife to her death. Five years passed. Night after night, I tortured myself by wondering if she would still be alive had I not been so petty over a machine. Until today, while discussing business at a private club, I passed a half-open VIP suite and heard one of Emmy's closest frie

(eg when Becca speaks, the format will be as this: Becca ~ “What is there to explain, Matt.” Full adaptation is dependent on the popularity of the Interactive Story. Let me know what you think, of My Perfect Mess. Happy reading, Tatum Whispers ************************* He has done it again. As if the first two times were not enough, I am once again shattered. Why do I believe him every time? Why do I believe him when he says he won't do it again! “Becca, please wait. It's not what you think. Let me explain.” “What is there to explain, Matt.”

Just like life had been unfair to many people, would she say she was unfortunate to be among those people life was unfair to? But life didn't end. She had been told many times she was going to be fine. She had Nate. Who would turn the world around for her as long as she remained the perfect girlfriend. Many had none, but she had someone who loved her to the moon and back. And why is that? Because she was perfect. But was she really perfect? Would he stop loving her once he found out about her imperfections? Would she be as lonely as everyone else life had been unfair to… if he left her?

Hundreds, if not thousands, and I wanted the best of the best. "Miss Blackman, transfer all the calls to my mailbox and join me in here so we can go through these together," I said, daring not to touch any application until I had help. "Yes sir," she answered with a smile and withdrew quickly. I liked that about Miss Blackman. She was always cheerful and up for any task or challenge I threw her way. _______________ "This one is too shallow." " Too deep and egotistical." "Too short." "Too self expressive."

I added, and he looked at me confused. “We see many people in our life who are perfect and imperfect as per our list, we have in our mind about perfections and imperfections. Just because one person is the perfect doesn’t mean that he is perfect as a partner to any person too. So Raj is the perfect guy I can ever know which you too accept, but he is not perfect for me.” I said explaining everything. He nodded after a few minutes and said, “You need not resign and my asking you to do that is my stupidity.”

"You believe signature papers and the dying man's breath make you powerful? You are an ephemeral storm. Fleeting. And storms… always fade." Amelia's gaze turned black. She leaned in a little, her voice silky but biting. "And yet, they leave destruction in their wake." Beatrice’s smile faltered—just for a fraction of a second. "You underestimated me once," Amelia continued, her tone dropping lower, more dangerous. "You won’t get the chance to do it again." Beatrice’s fingers twitched at her side. "You’re awfully confident for someone who barely held her own four years ago."

"Have you lost your mind? How can you expect me to use it when it's all spilled on the floor? What exactly are you trying to pull here, Queenie? "You're deliberately trying to gross me out, aren't you? How could I possibly use something so filthy? You must have lost it, Queenie." "This perfume costs a fortune, Helena! You should be considerate of me and give it a try!" Queenie insisted as she tried to fling the perfume-stained tissue at me. I glared at her and asked coldly, "Don't you think you're going too far, Queenie? How could you force me to use damaged goods? Do you honestly think I'm your personal trash can?"

“What do you see? Because all I see right now is emptiness.” “Put enough imperfections together and, eventually, you will achieve perfection. But even then, perfection is all about perspective. Maybe you and Ivan and your imperfections will make the kind of perfect you both need.” She cupped my cheeks and kissed the top of my head. “Sit here, drink wine, and I will go and call my pain-in-the-arse twin to make sure he’s not taking a hammer to a door or something.”

“Matthew failed to tell you that he’s in love with the mother of his child. He took you and marked you on an impulse, but he has no intention of being with you.” I watched as her tears filled with eyes. “Why? What’s wrong with me?” “No, no, no, baby. You’re perfect. I’m just already in love with someone else. I want her and my child. I can’t be with you.” He quickly told her. “How can I be perfect, yet you don’t want me?” She cried. “It’s not your fault. I’m really sorry.” He said as he rubbed her arm. I could tell that he was doing his best to resist the tingles that their touch created.