New Adult Novels & Stories

"Unless you want to wear this world female's clothes or my clothes, you better draw one and come with me" [I can never wear this world's female clothes] Those are too revealing. I can't wear something like that on a daily basis. I would die of shame. "Well, you are too young for that anyway," he said with a small chuckle. [I am not that young. 18 is the usual age where a person is considered an adult in our world. So I am an adult] "And those women you have met will probably be in their age of minimum 500" [500?] How old? But they look so young. Not more than a year older than me.

"Do you have any idea how fucking hard it's been? Watching you walk around in those little shorts, knowing you were off-limits?" Her breath caught. "I'm not....I'm not off-limits anymore." "You're twenty." "And you're thirty-two." She sat up on her knees, emboldened by the heat in his gaze. "So what?" "So I'm your neighbor. Your parents trust me." "My parents are in Europe." She reached out, her fingers grazing his stomach, and he sucked in a breath. "And I'm an adult." "Harper..."

“Purple? That must’ve looked cool. I don’t know if I’m ready for big changes like that. I’m still figuring out… everything.” Ava puts a hand on my arm, her touch reassuring. “That’s the point… you don’t have to have it all figured out. Adulthood isn’t about being perfect; it’s about trying stuff. Like, driving alone at night just because you can, or staying up late without curfew. But watch out for the hangovers if you start partying more. Those are different now.”

Once everyone found out I'd bought this crappy little company, even the people who used to believe in me started giving me that look, like they didn't trust me anymore. "A digital media company on its last legs is supposed to beat real estate? Especially on a project we've sunk nine figures into? Please. Looks like this newly returned Mr. Mark is all show and no substance." "I'm still Team Mr. Jerome. Mr. Mark's been gone for ten years. How is he supposed to compete with Mr. Jerome, who's been studying business the right way since he was a kid?"

he asked. "I'm sixteen," I replied. "I run a successful business, and I can drive too. I might even pass for an adult." The comment drew a chuckle from Dad. "In human society, eighteen is considered the age of adulthood," he began, ruffling my hair playfully, "but in our wolf pack, turning sixteen signifies entering the adult realm. Meeting a wolf at this age is a rite of passage, marking one as a true adult." "Why are you both here? This is supposed to be a confidential place," Dad asked.

I never thought he would be this vulnerable with his emotions, but I know it’s because of the pup; he doesn’t care about me. “I want to lie down,” I said, resting my neck on his arm. He looked down at me, breathing out. “You need to have your bath first,” he said. I didn’t reply, I just closed my eyes. I never imagined my life would turn like this; it came as a shock to me. I have been through so many ups and downs ever since I almost turned 18. Does life really begin at 18? Or are you truly an adult when you are 18? I don’t even feel like a child anymore. I am expecting my very own soon and the challenges I am facing I never thought I would. All my thoughts were I would be 18, find my mate,

she asked, lips twitching like she was holding back a smirk. I frowned. "What’s that supposed to mean?" A sense of dread crept up my spine. I had a bad feeling about where this was going. "In my opinion," she started, "an adult is someone who can completely take care of themselves. Cooking, cleaning, ironing, sewing a button back on—a fully independent person. Someone who has their own place and provides for themselves." I clenched my jaw. Was she hinting at the fact that I still lived with my parents?

" I stomped my hands on the table, crossing them in the process, getting at home. "Okay, Declan. Do you know where you are? You're turning nineteen in two months and you are being treated as an adult. You are an adult." He questioned me as if I was a toddler not able to comprehend things, simple as the fact that I was persecuted as a criminal.

Or maybe there was nothing off with me, maybe it was just the world I lived in that didn’t fit me. Lately, my determination to forge my own path, free of the opinions that restricted me, had me planning. I had been thinking about the future for years now, but more so recently. My birthday rapidly approached. Each birthday I reassessed my life. Each year I chose to suck it up for another year. This year was different. This year I will be 18. I will officially be an adult. That was my personal deadline.

Eighteen is a special birthday for many. My eighteenth birthday is special for different reasons than one would think. Eighteen signifies adulthood, but I’m not so sure adulthood is important to an immortal. It’s not even that I have all the time in the world to grow up. Ever since I started going on missions with my dad at fourteen, I’ve grown up. When you learn to reap souls, and one of your grandfathers is Death, well, you grow up on faster.