Knuckles X Sticks Novels & Stories

"Stay away from the room at the extreme end of the east wing... Be quiet as much as possible.... Leave at once when the second hand struck 5pm, not a second late!" Those were the three grand rules that she received. Allicia will never have expected her life to face a total turn around after she accepted to work as a caregiver in the house of a man that she never even met before. She had no idea what this unknown person she worked for was called, she had never seen him, not once had he shown his face. He was always hidden in a room in the mansion. Allicia had never been a disobedient girl all her life and she followed the rules while working diligently in the mansion. The only thing she did in the lonely mansion was sit by the window and sing with the birds. Her life went on smoothly and peacefully until an unfortunate stormy evening... It was a painful experience for her, one that she never wished to recall ever again. Not until she met him...

Ronan Vale’s life changed in one night. He was a normal college student, until he was kidnapped and sold in a secret auction. He swore he would escape but unfortunately for him, fate had other plans. He was bought by Maddox Volkov, a man as rich as he was ruthless, powerful, dangerous, and untouchable. Maddox claims Ronan means nothing to him, that he only bought him for his brother. Yet he refuses to let him go. He keeps him close, protects him, and watches him like he’s something he can’t afford to lose. Ronan wants freedom and Maddox wants control of his life but neither of them expected the one thing more dangerous than captivity, feelings. When enemies come for Ronan, Maddox must make a brutal choice, to either set him free… or destroy anyone who dares to take him.

After the real son, Asher Vale, was brought back, everything in our house became tied to drawing lots. The chef of the day, who would have to cook a particular person's preferred dishes, had to be decided by drawing lots. Even our parents' kisses and hugs were chosen the same way. I always drew the short stick. The long stick, by default, belonged to Asher. He never had to do anything to receive our parents' love. Whenever I felt it was unfair and wanted to cry, Mom would scold me sharply, "I bought the lot-drawing box because I was afraid you'd feel hurt. I wanted to be fair to both of you. If you want something, decide it yourselves. Your father and I won't interfere. If you can't draw the long stick, you can only blame your bad luck." So I began practicing every day, shaking the box diligently, over and over, in hopes that one day, it would help me earn my parents' love. Unfortunately, for ten years, I never once drew the long stick. Until my birthday. Asher wanted to go to the amusement park, and Mom once again told us to decide by drawing lots. I secretly glued the two short sticks together and handed them to Mom, hoping to keep her with me. She slapped me hard across the face, screaming that I was cheating and disobedient. Then she stormed out of the house with Asher. When I fell to the ground, the short stick stabbed deep into my neck. 'I'm sorry, Mom. Next time, I'll work harder. Next time, I'll definitely draw the long stick.'

I watch as he gently places the gun on the table. Seconds tick by a heavy silence filling the room. He takes a stand and makes his way to me. He takes a stance behind my chair and places his firm arms on my armchair, caging me. I bask in his scent and warmth. "You choose now Lana, here and now." He whispers into my ear. His traces my knuckles before grabbing my notebook out of my hands, and tossing it on the table. "I wasn't done with that." I say. He laughs, I feel his chest rumble as he laughs. I turn to face him, feeling my breaths shorten with each passing second. "Eyes on the prize, Lana." He turns my head back towards the table. "You choose the notebook you can go back to living your life in fear and delusion, then one day end up dead in a dumpster or," He brushes a strand of hair from my face, " You could pick up the gun and hunt your past which shall it be Lana?" I feel beads of sweat on my back and my anxiety prickling through my skin. I have to choose, here and now. I extend my hand and pick my choice.

Hayden Jenkins, the driver whom I've recruited, often brings his girlfriend, Casey Sloan, along whenever he drives me to the company. Seeing as Casey's destination is just along the way, I don't bother commenting about it. But one time, when I open the car door, I see a note being pasted to the back seat. It says, "Car moochers aren't allowed in this car." I rip the note off the seat and ask Hayden, "What's the meaning of this?" Casey glares at me from the front passenger seat. She snaps at me, "Don't you know how to read? Every day, you keep mooching off my boyfriend's car! Seriously, are you this shameless? If you can't afford a ride, then don't ever leave your house! I hate car moochers like you the most!" I'm confused, to say the least. That's when Hayden jogs toward me and mumbles to me, "Ms. Gray, Casey doesn't know that I work as your driver. She's rather possessive, and she only sticks this note on the back seat out of her love toward me. "By the way, Casey really doesn't like sharing the car with you. I'll drop her off first. After that, I'll come back for you." After that, Hayden drives my car away. I remain rooted to the same spot, though I'm quick to call the police. "Hello. A man and a woman have stolen my car. Please dispatch an officer as soon as possible."

Nubia has her life planned out. She is working on her master's degree in post colonial studies. She has a quiet apartment and a schedule she sticks to. Every Wednesday night she finishes class at nine thirty, walks to the bus stop, and waits. The bus is always late. There is always a stranger sitting on the bench. He wears headphones and draws in a sketchbook. He never speaks. She calls him Pencil Boy in her phone and does not think much about it. Then one October night the bus is delayed by forty three minutes. Eli studies architecture but he draws people instead of buildings. He has been sketching Nubia for six weeks without ever saying a word. He is quiet and pays close attention to things. He has learned to keep people at a distance because it feels safer that way. But when the cold night gets to Nubia and he gives her his hoodie, the silence between them finally breaks. What begins as pie at a late night diner turns into a Wednesday night tradition. Then a friendship. Then something much deeper. As Nubia and Eli grow closer, they must face the things that make them different. Race. Class. The dreams they are chasing. The families they come from. And the strong pull of a connection neither of them can ignore. Set over one school year, 43 Minutes is a warm and sensual love story about two people learning to truly see each other. It is about letting yourself be seen. And it is about the moments that change your life in less than an hour but stay with you forever.

Although their marriage was not based on love in the beginning, Elena gave her heart to Damian, the man she once believed was her forever. She loved him with a devotion that burned through every storm, but when false whispers and cruel betrayals poisoned his trust, their love began to unravel. Now abandoned in her darkest hour, Elena clings to life as she fights to bring their fragile child into the world alone. Every cry of pain is a reminder of the man who should have been by her side but instead handed her a divorce agreement through a lawyer’s cold words, yet even as her body breaks and her heart bleeds, Elena cannot kill the love she feels for Damian. It lingers, haunting her, making every memory both a comfort and a torment. He was her first love, her only love; and perhaps her greatest mistake, but when tragedy and love collide, sometimes the cruelest ending is not deatth, it’s surviving with a heart that will never be whole again.

I existed in monochrome. Then she walked in and set my world on fire. Now her name beats in my chest like a second pulse. And I won't stop until she's just as addicted to me.

Caution!!! This story plunges straight into unfiltered lust, inner turmoil, and risky, taboo cravings. It uncovers fierce dominance struggles, secret urges, and bonds that shatter every line meant to stay intact. If you crave a narrative packed with obedience, surrender, shame, and overwhelming hunger, then this is for you!! Mason has always known what he wants… even if he never had the words for it. At twenty-four, he craves control, not in life, but in the bedroom. He wants to kneel, to obey, to be seen and owned by someone who understands the depth of his desires. When he finally finds that connection online with a dominant man known only as Dom, everything begins to change. For the first time, he feels understood and behind the safety of anonymity, Mason allows himself to explore desires he has never spoken out loud. But when they decide to meet, the man behind the screen isn’t a stranger. It’s Alaric, the man who helped raise him, his father’s best friend and the one person he should never want. What begins as a mistake turns into something deeper, darker, and impossible to resist because once boundaries are crossed… There’s no going back.

“It’s our anniversary today. I planned our day together,” I declare. “I have work to do,” “But I asked your PA to clear your schedule for the day,” “That’s the thing. You made plans behind my back without talking to me about it first, Ariel,” He then walks past me and walks out of the closet. “I thought I was doing something nice for you – for us at least. You have always worked so hard, so at least take this day off with me. We never got to celebrate our wedding anniversary,” I rebuke. He decides not to say anything. He opens his bag on the couch facing our bed and takes out a white A4 envelope, tossing it on the little table in the middle of our room. “Is it so hard for you to read the room all the time? How would you celebrate a wedding anniversary when there is no love between us? Are you not tired of all this pretence because I am!" He chastises. "That’s for you. Sign it so that we can get it over and done with,” With that said, he puts on his black sunglasses and walks out of the room. Only then do I breathe out the air I didn’t even know I was holding. I’m confused and, most of all, hurt. I didn’t see this coming. I drop my eyes on the envelope with bold printed letters of the name of the law firm our lawyer works at.