Novel 21+ Novels & Stories

Third person POV: Plaza was one of the most prestige’s hotel in New York it has big hall in which Samara and Rohit were celebrating their New years eve, every guest in their party were enjoying each other company, luxurious decoration ,expensive wines and champagne , delicious food , exquisite music band everything one could desire in a royal party was there, everyone were happy except one person Samrat Singh, Samrat was chugging his whiskey while watching Erica and sahil dance together on a slow music, he was watching the way Erica was smiling softly, the way her body was swaying delicately in sahil’s arm, he was watching his younger brother who was holding Erica’s waist possessively, Samra

“How old are you exactly? And don’t give me that bullshit about being twenty-five, you’re not twenty-five, my ass.” I choked a bit. How had he figured me out so fast? But I decided to roll with it. “You’re right,” I confided breathily in his mouth. “I’m nineteen, but I put that I was twenty-five on my profile because I like older guys. Real men, I mean the ones who aren’t just horndogs, won’t give you the time of day unless you’re in your twenties … so I added a few years.”

I hadn’t even realized when he walked into the room. My head was spinning, trying to process everything I’d just read. There were scenes I couldn’t even picture properly, acts I hadn’t heard of before. And I’ve read a fair share of steamy novels. But this one? It was something else entirely. Now, being caught with it, I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. It’s not like it’s illegal. I mean, I’m twenty plus. That’s old enough, right? I think someone mentioned that it was for twenty one plus. I’ve never picked up anything from that section, so I wouldn’t know. Maybe that’s where this one came from.

He shook her from his mind and pushed open the doors to the study. The rug-lined room was bigger than B’s above-garage apartment. Floor to ceiling bookshelves dampened any noise B might made in his whiskey search. There didn’t seem to be a single inch of space on any one of the shelves. Books of all colors, textures, and sizes were packed together. In front of the book spines sat hundreds of little treasures–seashells, pocket watches, glass figurines, and carvings of creatures. So many creatures. B let his fingers drift over the book spines: The Picture of Dorian Gray. The Catcher in the Rye. The Odyssey. Brave New World. The Call of the Wild. White Noise. So many stories he’d never read and

Cole's PoV Sunday 13th January 2019 ********************************** Tonight is going to be amazing. Me and Lacey have been invited to a big party as a late New Years celebration by one of our friends from school. They called it a New Years party but we all know that's just an excuse to get drunk and have sex and dance the night away. I'm not complaining though, I love sex and partying and getting drunk. Lacey is exactly the same but she is always more graceful with it all.

It's a free book. Please, give a chance to my other books on Goodnovel as well and follow me on I*. It's the same penname wellmindelysian. You can get updates about my new stories there. Thank you again.

Wiping his hands on his pants, he tried again and was able to dial 911. As he waited for the call to connect, his eyes roamed the library, darting here and there, anywhere but at Harold. He noticed some books had been knocked off a nearby bookcase, a scattering of anthologies. Yet among them, he spotted his own name. A copy of his novel Dead Don’t Dance. It shouldn’t be here, he kept all his author copies in his office out in the carriage house. “This is 911. What is the nature of your emergency?”

For the first time, Cathedra had someone who didn't cringe every time she opened her mouth to speak. So this is what having a friend feels like, huh? Cathedra thought to herself. One lunch break, while waiting for Diane underneath the tree, Cathedra was scribbling a draft of her first novel in her notebook. The novel contained the scenes she saw in the storybook, back in her kindergarten days. Since that day at kindergarten, she didn't tell anyone what she saw in the storybooks anymore. The thought of seeing things that other people couldn't still terrified her but she tried hard not to think about it by avoiding any book she can see other than school books and textbooks.

she rolled her eyes. "I don't trust you. Anyway, what are we watching?" I asked. "I found a movie where this girl gets kidnapped and this guy cut off her arms and legs then keep her as his living doll. Let's watch that!" her eyes were sparkling with joy. "That sounds like a wonderful choice you psychopath," I laughed and put my arms around her shoulder and playfully squeezed it. I expected her to snap and slap my hand away but she just let me hold her. I started to remove my arm but she grabbed it.

“What’s it about? I can’t remember.” “The novel’s coming along fine,” Eva replied proudly. “In fact, it’s almost done. You can’t remember what it’s about because I didn’t tell you, but nice try.” Tara heaved an impatient sigh and dove into her fare with exaggerated gusto. She hated secrets. Eva consistently refused to divulge the theme of her novels until they were in print. Her way of making it up to her niece and nephew was to present them with autographed first editions. Tara couldn’t understand where Eva came from with her superstitions. Just once she’d like to be able to know the plot before the world did.