Nightmare Hour Novels & Stories

***This book contains strong language, explicit scenes, extremely detailed sex scenes. Proceed at your discretion*** Ellie loses her brother to ‘mysterious’ consequences and her life is turned upside down the second she learns of it. A man obsessed with control. A man consumed by the need to always win. A man with nothing left to lose. In the streets of Milan, they're known as The Black Rose but to Ellie, they're the thorns that will puncture the bubble that was once her normal life. Lorenzo, Noir and Silas will become Ellie's worst nightmare as well as her greatest desire. When they claim her as theirs to protect, theirs to own, she realizes that her old life is gone and that there's no such thing as normal when it comes to these men. Not when The Black Rose wants her. Not when they will burn the world down just to keep her by their sides. They will have her. And she will break them.

In a tale of secrets and deception, Peony finds herself hiding her triplets from Xander, the one person she fears the most. Desperate to keep her children safe, she goes to great lengths to keep their existence a secret. However, when Xander stumbles upon them by chance, Peony's worst nightmare becomes a reality as her triplets mysteriously vanish without a trace. Left with no other choice, Peony must turn to Xavier for help, hoping to convince him to assist in their rescue. But as they delve deeper into the tangled web of lies, the truth that has long been locked away begins to unravel. As Peony and Xavier race against time to find the missing triplets, they uncover shocking revelations about their own intertwined histories. The weight of the past threatens to consume them both, but they must set aside their differences and confront the truth together. Author: MEOONGPERSIAA Copyright: Ideaink Six Cats

Imagine being trapped in a living nightmare. For 24-year-old Luciana, that nightmare becomes reality when she's kidnapped by billionaire mafia boss Antonio Morano. As she's held captive in Antonio's luxurious Italian villa, Luciana uncovers dark secrets about her family's past that threaten to destroy everything she thought she knew. But the more time she spends with Antonio, the more she sees beyond his ruthless exterior to the complex, brooding man beneath. Despite the danger that surrounds her, Luciana finds herself drawn to Antonio's charismatic power and the forbidden passion that sparks between them. Now, Luciana must make a choice. To escape the darkness of Antonio's world or risk everything for a love that could destroy her Will she escape the treacherous mafia world, or will she succumb to the feelings her heart developed for her captor? Find out in this intriguing drama

My husband Preston smashed up the solo art show I'd spent three years building for Vivian, the poor girl we had sponsored through college. "Chloe! What the hell did you send Vivian?!" "She read your goddamn text and suffered a depressive episode! She nearly jumped off the rooftop!" I looked at his furious face and the whole thing struck me as absurd. "Preston. What exactly did I send? I told her that today was the opening of my show and asked her not to call you during it." "She's sick! Why do you have to make every little thing a fight! If anything happens to her because of you — I'll never forgive you." With that, he didn't even glance at me. He turned and bolted back out into the storm. I didn't cry. I didn't even have the energy to be furious. I turned to leave, but in the rain, I ran into Rowan—a classmate from college. He used to be the most popular guy at our school — sweet and hot. But now he was severely injured. The torrential rain had soaked his shirt, revealing his perfect abs beneath. Without hesitation, I took him back to my apartment. Preston showed up pounding on the door, eyes red with rage. "Chloe — I'm gone for an hour and you drag some guy off the street into our bed?" I sneered and stepped in front of Rowan. "If you can play free therapist to some other woman, why can't I try being a philanthropist?"

04:00 AM. JFK International Airport. I switched off airplane mode, and my phone lit up. The first notification was an Instagram story from my husband, Donovan Valentino, Don of the Valentino family, posted at 3:30 AM: a photo of Seraphina Moretti’s back, captioned, “Run 50 completed. Package delivered safe.” An hour before that, my flight had hit catastrophic clear-air turbulence, dropping two thousand feet in seconds. I’d clung to my seatbelt until my knuckles turned white, the crumpled threat letter from a rival crew pressed like a blade against my ribs. In those blind, falling seconds, one thought burned through the panic: If I live through this—if Donovan is waiting at arrivals—I’ll tear up my transfer papers to Dubai and stay. But there were no missed calls. No messages. He’d been too busy collecting Seraphina. He knew my flight details. He just didn’t care. Four years of marriage. 50 fully armed security details for Seraphina. For my 112 long-haul flights over those same four years? The most I ever got was a driver in an unmarked sedan. Even the night Gambino’s crew tailed me from Manhattan, and I spent six hours locked in a diner bathroom. He didn’t pick up until dawn, after the twelfth try. My transfer to Dubai was confirmed. The signed divorce settlement was in my bag. This was the last time I’d ever come back for him.

I got into an elite college with my boyfriend, Philip Jewitt—and tossed my acceptance letter in the trash. His mom was dying. He stood in front of me, eyes red. "Stella, she doesn't have time... If she finds out I dropped out to pay for her treatment, it'll destroy her. Please. Help me. I swear I'll treat you right for the rest of my life." Philip got four perfect years on campus. I scraped by, working three jobs. I paid his tuition. Covered his mom's bills. After graduation, he needed startup money. I convinced my parents to mortgage our house. When his company went public, he proposed in front of everyone. I thought all those years finally meant something. But then he heard his one-sided love, Winnie Schell, died in a car crash. He got drunk and shoved me to the floor. "Why wasn't it you? If I didn't feel guilty about you, I would've married her." I clutched my stomach, pregnant, begging through tears. He sneered. "You owe Winnie everything. You really think you deserve my kid?" Then he kicked me—hard—right in the stomach. Pain ripped through me. Blood pooled between my legs. My vision went dark. When I opened my eyes again, I was back—one hour before the college application deadline.

The cocktail hour had just ended when I picked up a video call in the bridal suite. It was Ethan, three years from now. By then, time‑travel tech had matured enough to let him contact me three years into the past. After enough specific details, I finally believed it. The man on the screen really was Ethan, three years older. I rubbed my aching ankle and pouted at him through the screen. "Ethan, smiling at all these guests is exhausting. But the second I remember I actually married you today, I'm happy all over again." "We're still happy three years from now, right?" He was leaning back against a headboard, and he didn't answer. His face was flat and unreadable. Then I heard it: a woman's voice from his end, low and breathy, asking to be kissed. I froze for a second, then covered my mouth and laughed. "Is that future me? In broad daylight? Get a room." Ethan turned the camera into the bed. My maid of honor was lying there, naked, sprawled across his chest. Her body was covered in hickeys. He looked straight at me as I started to break, and his voice didn't shift at all. "As soon as the reception ended, I told you I had a client meeting. I went to her room instead." "Jo, now you know what's coming. The guests haven't gone home yet. If you want a divorce tonight, you can have one. Up to you."

Five years ago, Cyrus Parker cried as he begged me to let his childhood sweetheart, Paige Gallagher, give birth to his child. I agreed, but soon I named my conditions. Paige and her child were to be sent abroad, never to return to this country. At the same time, Cyrus needed to compensate me with half of the Parker family's assets. Everyone called me a materialistic wrench who had her eye on the Parkers' wealth this whole time. As for Cyrus, he'd rather make an enemy out of the entire Parker family just so he could protect that child. Five years later, when I go to a neighboring city on a business trip, I stumble upon a lost boy. So, I take him to the police station and have him contact his family there. The police officer dials the phone number that the boy is able to recite for him. Soon, I hear a familiar voice coming from the phone. "Don't be scared now. I'll come over and pick you up right away." In less than half an hour, Cyrus, who's supposed to be in a business meeting that's taking place thousands of miles away, rushes into the police station. I meet his gaze from my seat on the bench, leaving him stunned. A smile appears on my face as I get up from the bench. "I didn't even know you'd sired another son with another woman behind my back, Cyrus. It seems that you won't be able to keep the other half of your wealth now."

There's a prophecy – a prophecy holding the fate of two worlds. On the edge of Lilah's field, at the twelfth hour of the fall of twelve, the three kings will unite, a daisy will be lost, or the worlds will be gone. The Oracle tells me that I am bound to the prophecy. That I cannot alter or change it. That I’m destined to be greater than what I am, but I already knew that. I’ve known that since the age of five. Now, can you guess who needs to die? Death doesn’t bother me. I will let the world burn if it means achieving my goals – because with every lick of the whip; he tore my flesh raw, as his laughter rang through the mansion, and my screams disturbed the heavens. No one cared to help, no one listened – definitely not the Gods. So why should I? ._. Eldora. A world woven together by magic. Cloaked in darkness and chaos, sin and deceit. Where no one is innocent; where both hands - and teeth - drip with the blood of others. And there is her. A lone wolf, watching the world tear itself apart. Watching the chaos, the death, the destruction as she fights a far greater war, within her. What's right and wrong? What's considered good and evil? Where does she stand in this enteral mystery, we call a universe? Coated in darkness and pain, she questions the meaning of life and death, and her purpose in this world of infinite possibilities. She finds only one answer: REVENGE. *WARNING this story contains abuse, suicidal thoughts, intense trauma, and erotic scenes. Please do not read if this is heavily triggering for you!*

Amelia Starling lived a normal life in the city of Michigan, working as a waitress in a very fancy café she lived a single life her only stress was to go to work and cater for her grandma as she was an orphan, but all these changed the moment she witnesses a gunfight between two mafia gangs which causes an uproar in her life, one that went from a prickly nightmare to a flowery soft dream. Damon Morningstar, the Don of the highest mafia gang in the states, was referred to as the Mafia King, he has both the looks and the money, ladies fell at his feet, and he was called the Mafia king, death himself. Known for his ruthlessness and popularity he holds a great standard in the mafia society and outside, he meets Amelia at the gunfight and makes it his mission to get her as his. Two to tango they both take off into a world of hate, love, and death.