Literary Stray Dogs Novels & Stories

Don’t stray from the path… When Siorin encounters a mysterious black-haired mage in the forest on her way to the local good-witch, she knows better than to stray from the path. Doing so would be inviting trouble from the fairy brethren with whom mankind shares their world. His plight, however, moves her, and she rescues him despite misgivings. Rivyn has cast a destiny spell which he believes brought him Siorin, so he doesn’t hesitate to steal her, well and truly taking her off her path when he does so. The mage irresistibly draws and seduces Siorin as he leads her on an adventure that transverses their world, encountering all manner of brethren, for Rivyn is on quest is to rebuild his power so that he can return to the Fae Court and reclaim what has been stolen from him. But what Rivyn has lost is not what he needs to seek. Will Rivyn choose his power, or his heart?

Jiang Ning a famous chef who accidentally became a vegetable after an accident found herself trapped as the superstar Entertainment Musical Goddess Jiang Ning in the novel "The loyal dogs of XuYa " . AND then she found herself taking care of the two buns that the novel Jiang Ning left. See how she avoids letting the two bunnies walk on the path of becoming big bad wolves! Cover art is not mine- comment or email at somilsingh8400@gmail.com to take it down

Logan Yusuf had the worst day of his life—he lost his job and caught his boyfriend cheating on him, all on the same day. But when he takes in a stray dog and wakes up the next morning to a handsome stranger on his bed, he doesn't realise his life had taken an entirely different turn.

I had just given birth when the country sent me on a secret mission that kept me undercover for seven years. When it finally ended, I came home on leave. I was eager to see my husband and children, whom I had missed every single day. However, the moment my car stopped at the gate, I saw my two children—my most precious treasures—being shoved down the steps by a woman. They tumbled hard, and they were covered in bruises. The next second, three snarling wolfhounds were released from the house, and they pounced on the children with bared teeth. Fury surged through me, and I charged forward. I got the dogs away with a few swift kicks and punches. Amid the animals’ pitiful howls, my ten-year-old son instinctively shielded his sister. His young face was pale with fear. Meanwhile, my eight-year-old daughter snapped out of her daze and trembled as she urged me to leave. “Miss, run! You hurt her dogs, and if Dad finds out, he won’t let you get away with it!” I forced down my anger and gently said, “She set the dogs on you first. Even if your dad were here, he’d protect you just like I did.” I did not expect this to make their eyes instantly fill with tears. Alarmed, I was about to ask what was wrong when a woman’s arrogant voice rang out. “You vagrant! I have a close relationship with Martin Gray, and I’m also the lady of the Gray family! “You and these two brats who dirtied my house aren’t leaving in one piece today!” I froze for a second before I took a deep breath and called my husband. “Martin, who’s this woman proclaiming to be the lady of the Gray family? Where did she come from? You’d better have a good explanation for this. And tell me, when did the house I left for John and Katy get a new owner?”

My best friend, Emily Summers, who had always been terrified of dogs, suddenly told me she was planning to buy a pet dog. That’s when I knew that she had been reincarnated too. In my previous life, I bought a pure white toy poodle from a pet shop. From the moment that little dog came into my home, everything in my life turned around. Morgan Hale, our manager who had always been at odds with me, suddenly offered me a promotion and a raise. Even the client I’d been struggling to win over for months personally requested to sign the deal with me. But the most unbelievable change of all? Silas Sullivan, the company’s tall, rich, and handsome CEO got down on one knee and proposed to me after a party, saying he wanted to marry me. I had said yes and even invited Emily to the wedding to witness my happiest moment. However, driven by jealousy, she stabbed me to death on the day of the wedding. "Why should someone like you get to marry a CEO while I’m stuck working three shifts a day like a damn slave?" The next time I opened my eyes, I was back at that moment, standing beside her, at the pet shop, looking at dogs…

Tunnels deconstructs the individual’s Romantic fascination with ‘love’ or the grammaticality of beauty. Ideally, the ‘tunnels’ in the collection are subterranean love poems from the suburban imaginary. These seemingly syntactic tunnels travel through one’s literary imagination or heterotopic dreamscapes, and while αγάπη (Greek for ‘love’) inspires these rhizomic tunnels to navigate the abysmal ‘meta-spectacle’ of gesture, language or moment of poemness, the mind like the many-colored jeepneys of Manila, where driving past roast goose restaurants in Shek Kip Mei or spotting stilt houses in Kampong Kleang, attempt to explore the transgeneric textualities of the everyday, alongside the unstructurality of time and space, the littoral and the liminal.

The novel is mainly about the forgotten British poet/writer named C. J Richards who lived in Burma/Myanmar in colonial times and he believed himself as a Burmophile. He served as I.C.S (Indian Civil Servant) and when he retired from I.C.S service, he was a D.C (District Commissioner) and he left for England a year before Burma gained its independence in 1948. He came to Burma in 1920 to work in civil service after passing the hardest I.C.S examination. He wrote several books on Burma and contributed many monthly articles to Guardian Magazine published in Burma from 1953 to 1974 or 1975. Though he wrote several books which had much literary merit to both communities, Britain and Burma (Myanmar), people failed to recognize him. The story has two parts: one part is set in the contemporary Yangon (then called Rangoon) in 2016 context and a young literary enthusiast named “Lin” found out unexpectedly the forgotten writer’s poetry book and there is surely a good deal of time gap that led him into a quest to know more about the author’s life. The setting is quite different comparing to colonial Burma and independence Myanmar (Burma), early twentieth century and 2016 which is a transitional period in Myanmar. The writer’s life is fictionalized in the novel and most of the facts are taken from his personal stories and other reference books. It is a kind of historical novel with a twist and it has comparatively constructed the two different periods in Myanmar history to convince readers, locally and abroad more about history, authorship, humanity, colonialism, and transitional development in Myanmar today.

To bed the waitress was the bet. ​Timothy Beckett won the Porsche, but Leilani Parker was the dark horse. She didn’t just leave—she vanished, turning the billionaire’s victory into a hollow, three-year obsession. ​Leilani is returning to the place that broke her as a queen of the literary world—shielded by fame and a name that commands respect. ​Hidden in the shadows of her success is a three-year-old boy with the Beckett jawline and Timothy’s haunting, dark eyes. ​Once the Titan sees the son he never knew existed, he won't just want her back—he’ll claim them both with a possession that knows no mercy.

Before the drop tower started, my best friend gave a look, and my boyfriend, with perfect tacit understanding, suddenly unbuckled his safety harness and ran off with her. I was left completely stunned on the drop tower by myself. My boyfriend stood in the safety zone with a beaming smile. "Freya said you're a scaredy-cat and need to be frightened more to get braver, so you're riding alone." The drop tower started. Looking at my comical appearance when terrified, my best friend held her stomach, laughing uproariously as she took photos. My boyfriend opened his mouth to say something as he helplessly steadied the camera lens for her. I couldn't hear the words he said, but I guessed it must have been: "Once you've laughed enough, don't tease her again. It's bad enough Cleo's so shy." I'm a timid person. Growing up together for twenty years, this was always how they accompanied me to build my bravery. When we were little, my best friend intentionally threw pebbles to draw over stray dogs. Then, he carried her on his back to climb up a wall, leaving me to be chased by the dogs and run all over the courtyard. During high school, in the vaulting class, my best friend suddenly pulled away the mat. He laughed and kicked away the rolling foam pad, watching me receive two bloody gashes from the impact. In college, we went on a night hike together. My best friend intentionally shook me off, and he followed her into the bushes to make noises, leaving me in the dark, so terrified I couldn't catch my breath. Every single time I shook with fear, it was met with a bout of loud laughter from my best friend. And standing behind her, he was forever saying a single phrase: "Don't do it next time." However, each "next time" would turn into a new joke for her happiness. The drop tower climbed to twenty meters, and the sensation of weightlessness pushed right up to the back of my throat. Suddenly, though, I felt there was nothing left to be afraid of. The drop tower reached the ground, and two pairs of hands reached over to support me. I pushed them away. "From now on, I don't need you guys to help me build my courage anymore."

I was born into hardship, but my beauty led to my adoption by the Maddox family. When I was 18, they brought home two boys. Dustin Holland, a piano prodigy, quickly bonded with my sister, who was the darling of our social circle. Nathan Holland remained in the shadows. He didn't like to talk, laugh, or even show the normal emotional fluctuations of a person. His stubborn, wooden gaze was like that of an abandoned stray dog. Diagnosed with emotional detachment disorder, he became my project. I vowed to heal him. He locked me in a dark room, scarred my face with a branch, and encased my favorite doll in plaster. I forgave it all, thinking he was just traumatized. The elite in the circle mocked us, urging me to abandon him, but I kissed him publicly, declaring, "I love Nathan. Anyone who hurts him will pay." Then a fire tore through our home. Nathan stepped over my broken body to save my sister, his eyes wet with rare tears. Turned out, his disorder had a cure. It was just not me. Reborn on the day they arrived, I looked at the taciturn boy and sneered, "Dad, must we take in every stray?"