Invincible Phone Case Novels & Stories

Angela Woodson; perky, buoyant and an innocent seventeen year old, who lives to make others smile. She's the kind of girl who can only love. She overlooks the bad in people and always sees the good in them. She always helps others even if it be a bloody murderer. Mason King; the leader of the most powerful gang, Viri Sanguinum. He is said to be cold, ruthless and a blood thirsty killer. He never grants mercy. Never helps nobody. But as they say, no one is born with bad. Circumstances make them. What possessed him to do this? With a dreadful past that still haunts him, Mason was bound to become bad. *** What if certain circumstances lead them to collide? Opposites attract they say. Is it possible in this case?

"Hey Jerry, that's my daughter! Where do you think you're touching?" My colleague, Jerry Steele, has had too much to drink in the bar. He's mistaken my daughter, Maya Glover, for an escort of the bar. His hand keeps roaming across her thighs. At one point, he almost reaches up her skirt to touch her. What's crazy is that Maya seems to enjoy the way Jerry touches her, based on how horny she seems. Then, I look at Jerry's daughter, Lucinda Steele. Her chest is so big that her top is about to burst from the pressure. In that case, don't blame me for what I'm about to do to your daughter, Jerry!

In ancient times, great kings had power over many things. However, some things were treasures reserved exclusively for the gods, and kings had no power over such things. But in the case of the legendary king Gaius who was desperate to have an heir to his throne, the treasures of the gods did not matter as he dared to have a sexual escapade with his most attractive spoil of war: an oracle of the gods. The forbidden fruit spawned a child--his only child--who was cursed and blessed by the gods to be the greatest king ever, who shall cast blood and sword upon the legendary king Gaius's throne. Upon hearing the prophecy, King Gaius sent battalions after the child. Read through and learn if the gods' prophecy shall come to pass or the king's will.

The phone had fallen and disassembled and the call, disconnected. "Who, who, who are you?" She became a heavy stutterer in an instant. The man who stood at the door to the kitchen walked forward and the light illuminated his features. He was lean and tall, very tall. Dressed in a white long sleeved shirt and dark suit pants, the few exposed parts of his body were ashen, lifeless and cold, like a bleak winter day. "Marry me." These were the two words that came from the deathly pale lips of his emotionless face... ********** Moving away from her overprotective parents, Geneva thought that she could finally lead a stress-free life. This was ruined when a ghost demands intimacy with her, his soulmate, to recover his lost memories and body.

Fresh out of the National Research Institute, I loaded up on my wife's favorite snacks and ordered a vibrant bouquet of roses, eager to surprise her. I stashed the treats in her office, then stepped out to grab the flowers. But in those fleeting minutes, a stranger had ripped open every package and devoured everything. I glared at him. "Who gave you permission to touch those?" He shot me a look of pure disdain. "Buzz off, flower boy. Drop your crap and scram!" The secretary at the door snickered. "You heard the man. He's Ms. Bowman's husband. Better run before he leaves a bad review." I pulled out my phone and called my wife. "Who is this guy in your office?"

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Research Center, and the only person in the world with experience in deep-sea rescue. When my sister’s submarine malfunctioned and was stranded ten thousand meters below the surface, I hung up on her distress call. Then I calmly walked into a police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research. A few minutes later, my father called. His voice was frantic and furious. “Your sister is missing. Where the hell are you? I’m ordering you to get to the site immediately and save her, or you won’t see a cent of the family inheritance!” I calmly pulled the blanket over my head and said into the phone, “I don’t have time, and you’re interrupting my sleep.”

On the suit jacket her husband had just taken off, Hannah noticed a lipstick stain,one that definitely wasn’t hers. Yet at that very moment, her husband was clasping around her neck a one-of-a-kind gemstone necklace in celebration of their 7th wedding anniversary. Later, when she found a single strand of golden hair that didn't belong to her too, a seed of doubt quietly took root in her heart. Still, her husband's tenderness, his unwavering attention and love, made her question her own suspicions. Could she really be imagining things? Until she saw the photo on the phone— Her husband, in bed with another woman. He really had betrayed her! And that woman… was the friend she had trusted most.

They’ve hated each other forever. Top grades? They fight for it. School captain? They both ran—then sabotaged each other. Even the last drink at the vending machine turns into war. They argue like it’s a sport. Compete like it’s life or death. Fists have flown. So have insults. Everyone knows: they can’t stand each other. But then—one night, her phone buzzes. A message. From him. Weird. They don’t text. Not unless it’s to throw shade. She opens it… and nearly drops her phone. It’s him. Shirtless. Smirking. Sweaty. The lighting is low, his eyes unreadable. Not a word, just a photo. Not a joke. Not a dare. And for the first time in years… She doesn’t know if this is war or something much, much worse.

When I learned that Holly Jones had gone to deliver cold medicine to her young assistant, even though she knew I was trapped in the elevator and suffered from claustrophobia, I asked for a divorce. Holly signed without hesitation. Smiling at her best friend, she said, "Jim is just throwing a little tantrum. His parents are gone, so there's no way he'd really divorce me. Besides, there's a thirty-day cooling-off period before it's finalized. If he regrets it, I'll graciously forgive him and take him back." The very next day, she posted a couples' photoshoot with her assistant, captioned: [Capturing your every sexy moment.] I counted the days. Calmly, I packed my belongings and made a phone call. "Uncle, buy me a ticket to Hudson City."

As the upcoming tour approached, the dance troupe suddenly revoked my position as the lead dancer. Anxious to get an explanation in person, I lost my footing due to my distracted state and tumbled down the stairs. While enduring the sharp pain and preparing to call for emergency services, a notification popped up on my phone screen: “Redwood Dance Troupe: Welcome our new lead dancer, Averil Wells, and our generous sponsor, Julian Ford." The accompanying photo featured two smiling faces—my husband of seven years, whom I had secretly married, and his pampered mistress. Julian had his arm wrapped around Averil's waist as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Meanwhile, Averil clung to Julian's neck, her face radiating shyness and delight.