My Struggle Series Novels & Stories

I don't bother pulling anymore. The first hour — was it an hour? — I'd tested the restraints. Pulled and twisted and fought with what little leverage I had, driven by some primal need to struggle, to resist, to prove that I wasn't broken yet. But the chains were solid, the locks professional, the angles calculated for maximum helplessness. There's no dignity left in the struggle. Not after what he took. Not after the way he'd looked at me — not with lust or desire, but with something colder. Clinical. Like I was a problem to be solved, a point to be made, a lesson to be taught to an audience of one.

I started to struggle, but it was no use. The stones slam into the bottom of the lake, causing dirt to fly up around me. I squinted through the murky water, my heart hammering intensely as I pulled at the ties around my wrists, the unforgiving material immediately cutting into me painfully. I struggled as my chest started to tighten painfully. There was no way I could get out of here without help.

Dissa stepped out and he closed the door. *** Inside the rented house is narrow and barely maintained by the occupants. A beautiful woman in casual clothes was walking back and forth in front of her bedroom mirror. "Shit! Damn! Why doesn't Novi want to help me." complained Risa. "How is this with my fate, in death I have to pay all debts from loan sharks. Only one week left, but I don't have the money to pay the debt. I was killed, I was punished, I was chased by two bald bodyguards. Try it, I didn't do anything wrong fatal, I must still be with Daniel. But, I still have a chance, Daniel's wife has not given birth to Daniel and this is my golden opportunity to fight for Daniel's heart back f

Watch out for “Striking Blow.” (Strike Zone Book #2) This is Pearl and Antonio’s story. Filled with international intrigue and subterfuge. Striking Blow Colombo. Sri Lanka. Pearl needed directions—a map—a freaking GPS back to herself. Finding her worth again meant starting with a physical transformation. For starters, the blonde princess staring back at her in the mirror wasn’t real, and it was time to pack “socialite barbie” away in a dark drawer; time to step away from the two-hundred-dollar haircut and her designer lifestyle.

“Dammit!” Laura said as she spilled her coffee on her light floral blouse. She hadn’t seen the crack in the sidewalk as she was juggling her bag and coffee cup, trying to keep up with the foot traffic. “Just great. I hate Mondays,” she mumbled to herself as people hurried past her on their way to work on this bright, sunny day. She silently scolded herself for trying to cram a last-minute errand in before work. She carried on as she reached into her bag to pull out a napkin. She tried to wipe the coffee off, but only succeeded in rubbing it in further. Not looking up from tending to the stain, she bumped into a man, hard.

After that, he took off my pants despite my extreme struggle. It felt like a quiver suddenly ran down through my nerves, causing my legs to automatically fly to his face. But no matter how many times I struck him with my feet, he did not mind it. I even hit him over the head, but he did not fall asleep although I used my remaining energy in kicking him so hard. Struggling seemed to have no help at all. I just got tired of it and eventually lost all my strength. My eyes were blurred with tears, my body was covered in sweat, and my exhausted mind was too weak to think anymore. I just wanted to end everything without feeling anything at all.

“Okay, good. Now I need you to breathe. I promise you we can handle the headlines and her. We can discuss it with the legal staff while we’re there. I know you must be livid, but I need you to stay calm. Can you do that?” He reluctantly nodded his head in agreement, but the color of his eyes looked black, which was always a sign that he was angry. “Do you have any idea how humiliating this is? Stories claiming that I’m impotent are going viral across social media right now!” “I get that, Ash. I do. But remember, I’m here, and I know how to deal with nasty publicity stunts like this. That crazy woman who ran around last season claiming Stryker gave her an STD, and who do you think dealt with

Lindsay could hear sounds and a voice. She could feel something on her face as she fought desperately to open her eyes but could not. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t open them. All Lindsay knew was she had to get to Wren. She tried to roll to the side Wren was on but was stopped by someone holding her down again. She could breathe now. There was a sharp pain in her chest, but Lindsay could feel the air going into her lungs. Before she could open and focus her eyes, she began to fight to get up.

she muttered under her breath, trying to sound more in control than she felt. As she stepped outside the café, the cool air hit her face, and for a brief moment, she felt the weight of the world lift. But then, her vision started to blur. It wasn’t a sudden shift—it was subtle, creeping in at the edges of her awareness. She blinked, trying to focus, but the dizziness worsened. Her knees began to feel unsteady beneath her, and despite her best efforts to take another step, her legs gave way. “Avyanna!” Ruth’s voice rang out in panic, but it was too late. Avyanna’s legs buckled, and she collapsed onto the pavement with a soft thud, the coffee cup slipping from her hands and spilling its conten

she struggled, trying to free herself, but he wasn’t letting go. “Damn you, Stefan!”