Impish Nature Novels & Stories

This may be the decision I will regret, but I know to myself that this is what my country deserves. A rightful relationship, a rightful marriage. A true born princess, and a true born prince. I don’t exactly hate Thomas, it’s just that I didn’t really think of him as my partner not until now. He’s smart, brave, and decent, much like a perfect prince, but he has an attitude. An attitude that he doesn’t show to other people except me and Althea. I found him sitting by the bench beside a fountain, so I slowly approached him. Before I went to the garden, I had my maids retouch my face and lessen the puffiness of my eyes.

"Do you think I'm stupid? I know what you're trying to do!" "What am I trying to do?" He asked, feigning innocence. "Charm me right out of my pants." He chuckled, his green eyes glistening with mischief. "Cupcake, if I wanted you out of your pants, it wouldn't take long." "Are you suggesting rape?" "No. I could convince you. You've seen me naked, you can't tell me you'd say no." I got up. "You know, when you started this conversation you actually seemed like you were gonna be a decent guy… and now you're back to being your usual repulsive self."

“He never has, nor will, have any intention of actually, you know, doing that with me.” She gripped my chin a little tighter, digging in her nails just enough. “Men, espessially young Werewolves, never can control their impulses, especially not when something easy and fresh presents themselves right in front of them. Do you understand what I’m saying?” “Not at all, please,” I begged, but had to stop when she pressed up on my chin, cutting off my ability to speak clearly.

If the word "fun" appears as a character in a film, Bullet should be the first in line to audition for it. He's in such a mood. His personality is like a golden retriever boy. He is the life of the party; I am not generally a morning person, but talking with him really lifted my spirits. He is really mischievous, yet he understands his limits. He frequently asks outrageous questions, and he is so honest in his testimony that his intrusive thoughts always triumph. But, beyond that, he is a gentleman with strong emotional intelligence, which makes him appear better than his attractive looks.

I yelled angrily at him, “Who do you think you are, Matthew? I don’t belong to you anymore, you fucking idiot! My family is everything to me! I have a husband and daughters! Do you think I’ll change them for you? You’re delusional, Matt!” Panting, I said, “You just attacked me, Matt. Tell me, is that the memory you want me to have of you? You have a woman now! Soon, you will walk down the aisle, surrounded by loved ones. You have a son! What the hell is wrong with you?” I can see sanity coming back to him. Matt’s problem is that he is impulsive. Almost all of his mistakes are because of acting without thinking. “Steph… I…”

Septimus would be a local speaking in broken English instead of a suave globetrotter. Although Septimus is forbidden from interfering with human affairs, nothing prevents him from having a bit of clean fun once in a while. Like the freedom of a naughty but harmless imp. Our con presents itself thus: We slip a mickey into Manchester Imagay’s glass of water and Septimus shows up at work wearing a human costume that would put the whole Mission Impossible franchise to shame. ****

It won't stop, I'm going to die. It is possessed by the hunt and promise of food, and it refuses to retreat. I continue to kick and thrash, and to pull at my rope. It pulls back so hard on my foot that my ass leaves the ground a few inches. It's like tug of war. It's going to tear my foot off. It isn't leaving without something. I kick it with everything in me, into it's nose and it releases it's hold long enough for me to free my foot. My blood coats it's guns, and it readies itself to strike again. It studies me, teeth barred as it looks for the most efficient spot to deliver it's next blow. I duck my chin on instinct as I it takes flight. It lands across my torso, mouth nipping my shoulde

After I finally managed to composed myself, and got my breath back, I told her why he repeated those words. "I'm sorry, I had no idea those words were still registered in his head. I was using my digital notepad and some stuff got deleted by mistake. I used the 'F-word', and then he started repeating it. I immediately scolded him. I told him that you'd kill me if you heard him using that word. Then he started repeating, 'Kill me. Kill me.'" Jasmine cracked up. "I don't know why, but he has the tendency of picking and repeating foul words from a complete statement."

“Shouldn’t you be happy, Timtim? Now you’ll get my full attention. Every day.” “That’s not funny,” she snapped. “I’m not joking.” He stepped closer, lowering his face until they were nearly nose to nose. “You’re reckless. Immature. And I’ve let you run wild for too long. Consider this your leash, officially tightened.” “You’re insane.” “And you,” he breathed, his voice turning gravelly, “are mine to keep in line.” Timtim was stunned by his words.. is he insane what does he mean by that ? --- --- Later that evening, back at home, she found her bedroom window open.

It shook its skinny little finger at me “you haven’t even looked at your room yet.” “Not interested bug. Show me the way out. I have a girl to get back to.” “I’m not a bug, by the way. I’m an imp. I hope your female is faithful, because she’s going to be waiting for you a long time.” “The fuck she will!” “I have to say, you’ve been harder than any other beings ever sent down here for me to deal with. Usually, my possessed look runs them into their cell. Ahhh, good times.”