Lights Camera Disaster Novels & Stories

Every time I miscarry, Adrian Sadler brings home a new woman who eerily resembles his first love. He makes me put the rubber on him, forces me to watch their fevered passion, and then orders me to bring warm water for their intimate cleanup. I do everything I'm told, begging for just one night a month with him. That is, until I accidentally tear his favorite lover Peggy Olson's lingerie. That night, Adrian streams my humiliation for the world to see. He drags me onto the bed, twists my body to expose me fully to the camera, and pins me beneath an avalanche of shame. "Did you think her lingerie was suggestive? What about now? Look at yourself. Do you think you are any better? You love crawling into my bed, don't you? I'll help you get your fill. Maybe one man isn't enough to satisfy you. Why don't I call in ten men tomorrow?" As punishment, Adrian throws me outside, in my birthday suit, in the courtyard. Blood slowly pools beneath me. I experience my tenth miscarriage. I look for Derek Sadler and say, "I promised to help your family to repay your kindness. I tried my best. Ten miscarriages later, whatever blessing I once had is gone. I'll never have children again. Today, I've come to say goodbye."

One night, No names, No lights,No mercy. Elias Hawthorne walked into that room to punish himself. He walked out ruined in ways he still can't name. The man who fucked him hard in the dark was skilled, ruthless, and completely anonymous. Until the blindfold came off. Damien Blackwood. His father's most hated enemy. The man whose company Elias helped destroy that same morning. Now they're locked in the same boardrooms, the same jet cabins, the same impossible orbit, and Elias can't stop going back. He tells himself it's the last time. Every single time, he tells himself that. But it never is. Damien isn't just taking him apart in private anymore. He's dismantling everything Elias was built to be. His loyalty, His silence, His carefully performed life. And the most terrifying part? Elias is letting him. Two empires. One secret. And a love that feels like mutual destruction until it becomes the only thing worth saving.

To the world, he's the enigmatic Capo of the Chicago Outfit, a man of power, control, and unwavering resolve. He's sculpted his life meticulously, sticking to a code that demands order. Yet, sometimes, even the most disciplined minds can be led astray. Claire “Cindy” Parker is the life of every party, a vivacious burst of sunshine that lights up any room. She's the dance-off initiator, karaoke microphone grabber, and the queen of themed costume parties. But beneath her party-loving spirit, Cindy hides a well of pain and dark memories, mastering the art of masking her inner pain with humor and charm. When these two collide, sparks don't fly; instead, it's like a showdown from an old Western, and shots are fired, both literally and metaphorically. Their personalities are oil and water, refusing to mix, igniting heated arguments that often lead to explosive situations. Yet, beneath the surface tension, an undeniable attraction simmers, their paths destined to intertwine. Slowly but surely, they begin to unravel each other's layers, exposing vulnerabilities they've long kept hidden.

“Hope you are neat in there.” He croaked. I was speechless for some moment. I tried to figure out what to say to convince him but my head was blank. “It's time.” The master announced. “Mark bundled her into my bedroom.” Tiny tremor ran over my skin when I heard those words. “Please don't do this to me. I'm begging you.” I pleaded. Tears were cascading from my eyes as Mark, one of the guys carried me up in a bridal style and laid me on the bed. The lights were turned off, not giving me an opportunity to see the man's face. This must be hell on earth. Mark left and the master came in, shutting the door behind him. Patricia has been forced into a marriage she wasn't ready for. She's faced with a plethora of challenges ranging from her kidnap, a mysterious woman taking over her home and her mother being her husband's mistress. It was hell on earth. Immerse yourself with this book to find out more suspense, drama and surprising twists.

"Sweetie, are you coming? I'll wait for you at our usual spot." Henry Lane is about to go to bed when he receives a voice message. It's spoken in Rushky. He turns his back to me as his face lights up in joy. Then, he answers in Rushky, "Of course. I love you." I'm about to fall asleep, but I jolt when I hear that. The sweet voice on the other end of the line rings out again. "Your wife won't find out about this, will she?" "I'm talking to you to her face now." Henry snorts. "We're speaking in Rushky; she can't understand us." My heart twists painfully. It turns out he's never loved or truly understood me. He thinks I'm just a housewife whose world revolves around him; he has no idea I once studied in Rushnia for two years as an exchange student. I suppress my sorrow and heartbreak as I caress my belly. Then, I make an appointment with a local hospital for an abortion.

To attract more potential customers, my wife decided to join the cycling community. During the two months I was away on a business trip, she posted new cycling routes every single day on the map and became a well-known cycling socialite in the local scene. A neighbor suddenly sent me a video. The location tag pointed straight to my backyard. [Dude, your wife is something else. Already found herself a riding partner? Looks like the bike’s not the only thing getting ridden.] In the video, an unfamiliar lace panties hung on the handlebars of the bicycle. The lush grass swayed rhythmically, with an undulating figure occasionally peeking from behind it. I dialed her number. “What are you doing?” She squealed, “I’m out for a ride, honey. I’ve been landing a lot of high-quality clients lately. I’m working really hard to make money!” “Oh?” I smiled. “With your body?” I tightened my grip on the phone and enunciated each word, “It’s pretty dark in the backyard. Want me to turn on the lights for the two of you?

I'm finally bored after pursuing Hugh Freeman for ten years. I give up on him and get together with Christopher Sanders, who's always had feelings for me. Christopher lights the city's sky with fireworks throughout the night. He even buys a small island to propose to me. However, he goes missing right before the wedding. When I find him, I hear him talking and laughing with someone. "I only pursued Jessica to get on Hugh's nerves—I lost interest in her once I got together with her. "Still, I don't want to let her off so easily because of everything she put me through. That's why I'm going to leave her at the altar—to humiliate her. Fun, isn't it?" So, I decide to run away before he does. I turn him into the laughingstock of the city. Later, I hear that Christopher scours the capital in search of his missing bride. He never finds her, though.

After his first love died, Oscar hated me for ten years. I tried everything to soften him. Nothing worked. "If you really want to please me, go die." The words cut deep. But when the riot came, he threw himself in front of me and was hacked down where he stood. He stared at me as he bled out. "If only… my fated mate hadn't been you." At his funeral, his parents wept. "We should have let him be with Catherine. We forced him to marry her, all because of that damn prophecy." Windvale Pack lived by prophecy. Years ago, the Seer had foretold that if Oscar didn't take his fated mate as his bond-mate, disaster would fall on the pack. I was that fated mate. But now, everyone wished I never had been. Even me. I was driven from the funeral, hollow. Then the Moon Goddess descended. She offered me a chance—ten years back—on two conditions. I would not become Oscar's mate. I would prevent Catherine's death. I said yes without thinking.

Gregor Campbell mostly called Gregor Bells is the richest and most popular billionaire in Russia and other countries. He's the typical example of a hot billionaire. Ladies from prestigious families falls just by the slightest sight of him alone. He's just 27 but owns the biggest technology company known as WEB ZONE. They deal with numbers of techs,gadgets electronics,phones,laptops,computer machines,,just name them,even robots. Gregor Campbell is young,handsome,rich,perfect all over but the only problem is,He's not the type who is into girls. After he got divorced about five years ago,his ex wife leaving him with his lovely twins,he was never caught on camera with a girl,he was never caught smiling either unless with his kids. He's the quiet and cold type whose workers find so hard to understand his moods and expressions. Getting married again is not in his plan,he was doing well as a single dad and he would even give the whole world to his kids but when it's about getting married,he doesn't want that. Some people say he's still in love with his ex wife while others only think he's in a secret relationship Then we have Annabella Rodrigo. A 20 years old dropout and also the only child of her parents,she's into lots of minor jobs just to live and fend for herself and family. Until she got a job as a maid into the popular Campbell's Island. What would become of her in there?? Find out

Late one night after getting off work, I was scrolling through my company group chat when a colleague shared a piece of news. The headline was horrifying. "Night-Shift Courier Murdered During Delivery, Police Suspect Robbery." I zoomed in on the crime scene photo that had been partially pixelated, and a chill ran straight down my spine. Lying in a pool of blood, the courier who had been hacked to death was unmistakably me. I had scrolled into news of my own death. Almost at the same time, my delivery app began vibrating violently. "Urgent pickup! Destination: Unit 704 Hawthorne Ridge Apartments, Building 7. Time limit: 15 minutes. Penalty for timeout: Death." As I stared at the notification that read "Pickup failed three times", the searing pain of my brutal death surged through my body. So that was it. I had already died three times. When I forced open the half-closed security door of 704 for the fourth time, a thin delivery envelope lay quietly inside. I tore it open. A photograph slipped out. It was a picture of my dismembered body. The timestamp showed tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. On the back was a single line written in fresh blood: "Next time, remember to pick it up on time." At that moment, the red indicator light on the hallway surveillance camera suddenly went dark. I looked up. From the ventilation opening in the exact same spot, a single eye was staring straight at me. The mole at the corner of that eye was identical to mine.