My Little Tyrant Novels & Stories

soon the man looses his conscious and fall on the floor. The moron started clapping because he enjoyed every second of the torture he made me put this man through. "Bravo son! Bravo!" He praised which made me want to punch him. dropping the tool i started walking out when he called. i stopped in my tracks as he spoke "You are the heir of Farmington corporation. you can have playthings but if you get distracted..... i don't mind shooting the distraction in the head" without turning i said "Spare his life will you" before walking out with only one thing in my mind

The demon screamed in pain, he did not know the woman knew the master he would have never taken the job. "So you're the one taking the men from Thornbury, since when did demons work for sirens." Damien said mockingly as he stared at the little demon, it should be about fifteen to sixteen years old. "I..I..master she tricked me...I didn't want to...she only said I should bring handsome men for her." The little demon begged his hand had begun withering like a dead tree. "What is your name and what division are you from.." Damien asked as he let go of the little demons hands.

Austin’s apartment was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the turmoil in his mind. The dim light from a single lamp cast long shadows on the walls as he read Xender’s urgent message again. It had been a long day, and exhaustion weighed heavily on him, but the message was clear: “I need you all back at the mansion, fast!” The words carried an urgency that left no room for delay.

Hi everyone, I’m Alphamini, the author of "My Little Mate". Before we dive into the story behind this book, let me share a bit about myself. My real name is Shivani Sharma, and I'm a part-time author with five years of writing experience. My favorite genres include Vampire, Werewolf, Billionaire, Young Adult, and Fantasy. Besides writing novels, I enjoy reviewing and providing feedback on other authors’ story outlines and the first five chapters of their books. I also have a passion for researching writing techniques and materials.

She held her arms out. Gwen bit her lip as she got up, closing the small distance as Matilda got up to her feet to hug the poor girl. “It must be so hard on you, my darling little pup. Life has been unfair to you for far too long now.” Maybe it was the lack of a mother or grandmother in her life, but every time a she-wolf of the pack hugged her, she tore up. “It’s been fourteen long years, Matilda. Whoever said it said it right. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.” She pulled away and chuckled, “Or in my case, heavy is the heart that houses the crowning flame.”

Kyla knew she didn’t have the luxury of being picky anymore. She opened her laptop and reluctantly applied for the job as a bartender. Less than five minutes later, her inbox chimed with an email. She’d been hired. They needed her at the bar by five for a brief interview, with her first shift starting at six. She also had to move into a smaller apartment today to save money, which made the day feel especially daunting.

And she can't have me. Damn, I needed a shower. But I would end up jerking off in the bathroom while thinking about my little slut.

Zane said, smiling just enough to ruin my sanity. Dear God. And right then, Alexa’s voice blared again from the living room with another unsolicited weather update. Maritza screamed, “I SAID STOP, YOU IDIOT!” +++ An hour later, my car rolled to a stop in front of The Little Orchard Preschool—a place that looked more like a Tuscan resort villa than somewhere kids learned the alphabet and smeared slime on each other. Ash and Maritza sat in the middle row. Well, sat was generous. They were locked in a heated debate over whether a Tyrannosaurus rex was louder than Maritza when she was mad.

I added, crouching to Iris’s height. Her mouth fell open. “You two look exactly the same.” I nodded. “I know. We’ve been like that since birth. But you have to promise not to tell anyone. Twins are forbidden in my family. You probably won’t understand—” “I do,” she cut in. “I read about things like that in old books. I didn’t know it could be real. I’ll keep your secret.” She held out her pinky finger, and we made a pinky promise.

Dark hair, blue eyes that looked almost black right now, and a jawline that could cut glass. “Name,” he asked. I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. He waited three whole seconds, yes, I counted, then sighed like I’m the inconvenient one here. “Phone,” he tried again. That time my voice worked. Barely. “W-what?” “Give me the camera, little artist.” Little artist? Who the hell was he calling little? I was five-seven in socks. Okay, five-six and a half, but still. I clutched the Nikon to my chest like it’s a baby. “This is a limited edition. You can’t have it.”