Piccolo Crying Novels & Stories

My husband, an Army regimental commander, was killed in action. Before his body was even cold, I didn't hesitate. I filed for his death certificate and notified the Army, the Social Security Administration, and our bank. Then, three days later—on the very day his twin brother married his childhood sweetheart—I moved out, changed the locks, and remarried quietly at the courthouse, taking my son and the full line-of-duty death benefits with me. To everyone else, I was heartless. Cold. I let them curse me. I just looked into my “brother-in-law's” bloodshot eyes and felt a quiet, cruel satisfaction. Only I knew the truth. In my last life, I discovered the body sent home wasn't my husband's at all—it was his identical twin brother's. I ran to confront him, but by chance I overheard him and my mother-in-law whispering. "Mom, Sarah is strong. And we have our son. She'll be okay. The benefits will take care of her. But Amy has waited for my brother all these years. If she finds out he's dead, she might do something drastic." Their words struck me like lightning. I tried to expose them, but my husband knocked me out. He told everyone grief had driven me insane. He locked me in the garage apartment and, with cold detachment, married his sweetheart. And when that woman complained my son was too loud, my husband slipped sleeping pills into our boy's juice—right as my crying child was coming to look for me. My son never woke up. The day they buried him hastily, I ended my life in the garage, utterly broken. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day they delivered my brother-in-law's body to our home.

As Dad lies on his death bed, he rasps to me that his only wish is to watch me get married. I keep crying to the point that my sobs come out silent. My entire family turns to look at Whitney Pearson, who stands behind me. She lets out a small sigh before wiping my tears away for me gently. Then, she leads me out of the ward. But as soon as the door is closed behind us, Whitney's expression turns icy. "Joseph, we've been dating for seven years. You of all people should know very well that I hate getting coerced into doing something the most. "Love is all about going with the flow. We shouldn't let others determine how our relationship should progress." Then, she caresses my cheek reassuringly. "Let's not rush our marriage. We'll talk more about this once things settle down after my company goes public. What do you think? "Anyway, I still have a meeting to get to tonight. You should deal with your family as you see fit. I'll bring a gift for you when I come home later." Before I can say anything, Whitney spins on her heel and leaves with her secretary, Kaiden Xavier. The moment both of them disappear into the elevator, I witness Kaiden bending over slightly to brush Whitney's hair from her face for her. She makes no move to stop him at all. After drying my tears, I return to the ward and take Dad's hand with a smile. "Don't worry, Dad. I'll get married in three days. In fact, I'm still waiting for you to do my tie for me before the start of the ceremony."

When Astrid is kidnapped and shipped off as a gift for a king’s coronation, she becomes resentful of her life and resigns herself to death at his hands. Spared by her new captor, she must find a way to navigate the turmoil of harem life. Pitted against the other girls of the harem, and the king's favorite, she must survive attempts on her life, societal upheaval, and, most dangerous of all, a budding romance. Is she just making the good of a bad situation? Or is love truly blooming with her tyrannical owner? "Do you know who you're talking to?" He asks both angry and amused, with a dangerous flame in his golden eyes. "Loras." "Loras is a king, Astrid. A king doesn't give explanations in front of anyone. And if you don't learn that, this palace will kill you." He doesn't sound like he's scolding her, nor does he sound arrogant. He tells it as it is. And Astrid was aware of that. But still, it's not something that her heart could just accept. She didn't realize she was crying until his hand dries her tears. And before realizing it, he pulls her closer. "N..." She tries to oppose it, but it's too late. His lips are pressed on hers and all breath leaves her chest. His lips are soft and full, embracing her mouth entirely. "Open your mouth!" He whispers an order and she can only obey. Her knees are melting so she grabs his neck. He puts his arms around her and lifts her up, pressing her body into the wall, trapping her. And then, suddenly, just when she was starting to get used to the maddening sensation of his touch, he steps back. "Don't you want to finish the conversation about Lysa?" He asks.

CAN BE READ ALONE!! Growing up, at a younger age my mom would tell me her romantic story of how she and dad met. I fell in love with their love story and would beg her to tell me every night before going to bed. I love her story so much that I could not wait to one day be old enough to find my one true mate; that every full moon, I would stare through my bedroom window and watch excitedly wolves being wandered off into the dark, having only the full moon to guide them. Seeing them, I was even more anxious to turn eighteen and to too meet my mate. The wolf, the moon goddess has blessed me with to spend my entire life with. Before my mom was taken from me, she used to tell me, a one true mate is like an alpha, and that the only difference is that he may not have a pack he's destined to rule and protect, but a single wolf he's destined to love forever. I kept that quote with me and impatiently waited until I was of the rightful age, searching under the beautiful moonlight for my one true mate. It was the most beautiful night and even more beautiful when I lay eyes on a dark hair and blue eyes handsome wolf. I could hear my wolf crying inside telling me that he was mine; that night I thought I found everything that I was looking for and ever wanted, but the next day after my one true mate mark me as his own and took my innocent. Everything wasn't going the way I thought it would be. My mate mostly. His sweet behavior towards me suddenly changes into something terrifying; something I'd never wish upon anyone.

Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror and just barely recognizing yourself in the reflection? Well that is me, I have loved and lost. Survived and thrived, screamed and cried into my pillow tears nobody else got to see. But I never gave up hope, never lied down and never let them see me cry. Until him, he could see past the facade and see the real me. He wanted to love me, concole me and protect me. But I have lost hope in humanity, men, true love because life just arent a fairytale right? Its hard work and nothing comes easy even if you would like to believe it does it just doesnt. He is my mothers new husbands son and 10 years older than me. His blue eyes keep staring at me, it should warm me to the core right. Make me feel something anything. But it doesn't he makes women run after him and beg on their knees. But me, I have been down this road before. The charming smile, arrogant cocky attitude. It always ends the same, me covered in bruises crying on the bathroom floor. Thinking its all my fault, all me. But he just wouldn't let go. He wouldn't give up. And the more I turn him down the more it turns him on. I am only that strong before I give in,and even though I know how this is about to end. If he keeps staring at me with desire in his eyes as if I am the reason he is breathing. I know I am about to take the leap this can go down to damn ways. But the question is do I or dont I. Because fear can be your anchor or it can be your wings

I went to my best friend's place for her birthday, and out of nowhere, she started complaining. "I'm so jealous of you," she said. "Your boyfriend has basically no sex drive." "Mine's the complete opposite. He wanted it seven times last night. I was crying so hard I lost my voice, and he still wouldn't stop." I gave her a sympathetic smile. "That just means he's crazy about you. Unlike mine—he's practically celibate. Like a monk." She raised an eyebrow, casually stroking the two-million-dollar ruby bangle on her wrist. "He's not bad," she said, a hint of smugness in her voice. "He was with his ex for five years, but he still chose to marry me behind her back. He was so afraid she'd push for marriage that he faked going bankrupt and told her he had ALS. "The girl wouldn't let go, though. She sold her blood, her kidney—whatever it took—to scrape together money for his treatment. "She was working the graveyard shift at a factory, while he and I were fooling around in a twenty-million-dollar villa." I froze. To help my boyfriend Nathan Whitley pay for his ALS treatment, I had done all of those things. Before I could even process it, the door opened, and a tall, sharply dressed man walked in. "Babe," he said, "I got that strawberry flavor you like. How about wearing that silk nightie tonight?" Our eyes met. I stood there, frozen in shock, a chill running down my spine. It was Nathan Whitley—the man who was supposed to be broke, bedridden, and dying of ALS.

My adoptive parents' long-lost daughter came back. She's a wellness influencer. She eats from crystal bowls she "cleansed." Sleeps with a white noise machine. She will only ride in a custom, climate-controlled car. That's not all. She filled our family's Manhattan law firm with Himalayan salt lamps and energy crystals. The espresso in the conference room? Replaced with gluten-free, organic dandelion root tea. "The energy here is so murky," she'd say. "We need to cleanse the world with love and light!" My guilt-ridden parents gave her everything she wanted. Even my fiancé told me, "Ava, you stole twenty years of her Upper East Side life. Can't you cut her some slack?" The day of the final hearing for our firm's biggest case, the entire court had to wait for her to finish her "emotional cleansing meditation." The judge was furious. I stood up. Delivered a flawless closing argument. I won our client $500 million and secured the future of the firm. But at the party, she had a drunken breakdown, fell into the pool, and drowned. My parents and my fiancé blamed me for everything. "You always have to win, don't you? It was a simple, open-and-shut case. You couldn't even let her have that?" They had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. They destroyed my law license and my reputation. They even had me injected with a fatal overdose of sedatives. I died full of hate. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back. Back to the day she was crying on her Instagram Live, begging for the case. This time, I walked straight into our rival's law firm. This "sure-win" case? I'm going to make you lose everything.

Warning: This book contains explicit sexual content, but does not condone rape. "What happened, Father? What happened?" I asked anxiously, feeling restless. "He challenged me to a game and used his mansion as a bet," Father explained. I looked at Mother, who was crying, and suddenly understood what was going on. "Father, did you use this house as a bet and lose?" I asked, anger welling up inside me. “How could you, Father? How could you do this? Where do we go from here?" I yelled, overcome with pain. But my voice got stuck in my throat as I heard Dad's next words. "I didn't bet the house, but I used you," he declared, leaving me speechless and stunned. ***************************** "Do not even consider falling for me because, like the others, you are just a toy. Just give me an heir, and I will set you free," he said, pushing her onto the bed while his words continued to echo in her mind. Zoey, wagered by her father to the cold-hearted Alpha Ethan after a foolish gamble, finds herself reduced to a mere plaything. Ethan takes pleasure in emotionally tormenting her, believing women to be worthless due to being cheated and rejected by his first mate. Little does he know that Zoey is his second chance mate. Zoey is framed, and Alpha Ethan discovers her in bed with his cousin. Heartbroken and filled with anger, he sends her away, unaware that she is already carrying his child. Five years later, their paths cross again, and he realizes that she is his second chance mate and the mother of his child. But how can he win her back? She is no longer the naive girl he once knew; instead, she is a single mother sought after by many Alphas and Lords.

My mom is terrified of being laughed at by others the most. Whenever the holidays are here, she will keep repeating one sentence to me—"Don't go around embarrassing me." When my relatives gather around and chat with each other, I accidentally knock a fruit platter over. Mom drags me over and slaps me on the spot. At the holiday feast, I grab extra pieces of steak for myself. Mom responds by kicking my chair over. When it's time for the holiday gifts to be distributed, my aunt, Gabriella Hall, has miscalculated the number of children present among the family. So, she has prepared one less gift for the occasion. Mom doesn't hesitate to kick me out of the apartment, leaving me shivering in the cold corridor in just my indoor clothes. The icy winds chill me to the bone. I keep slamming my palms on the front door while screaming and crying my apologies at Mom, and yet she remains unmoved and silent. Instead, she turns to face Aunt Gabriella with an apologetic smile on her face. "I'm really sorry. I didn't raise my daughter well. It's only fair that you ridicule me." What Mom doesn't know is that I get triggered whenever I hear the word "ridicule" thanks to her so-called parenting lessons. Whenever I hear that word, I want nothing more than to hurt myself uncontrollably. So when I hear the word "ridicule" coming out of Mom's mouth through the front door, I turn on my heel quietly and begin making my way toward the bridge next to the neighborhood that's plunged into darkness. The moment I jump from the bridge, the only thought I have is, "Mom, no one will ridicule you because of me this time."

During the summer vacation, I go overseas with my boyfriend, Cornell Glover, to attend his favorite music festival that is called the Tuchella Music Festival. When we are lining up to go into the venue under the sweltering heat of 86F, I go to the vendors nearby to buy him some iced bottled water. But by the time I get back, Cornell is gone. To make things worse, my digital ticket shows that it has already been checked in. Anxious, I call him and ask, "Have you gone in? Why does my ticket show that I've checked in?" Cornell replies, "Oh. I ran into Ellie Valdez, the intern from our department, just now. She was crying at the entrance because she couldn't get a ticket, so I gave yours to her." "Are you crazy? I was the one who got us those VIP front-row seats!" I exclaim. "Come on. It's not like you're interested in rock music. You'd just be scrolling on your phone after you get in. Ellie is a diehard fan. Don't you think you should let someone who appreciates the music have this instead?" Cornell says nonchalantly. I am so shocked that I don't know what to say. After a few seconds, I say in disbelief, "So you left me out here, all alone, for an intern's sake?" Cornell sounds dismissive as he says, "You can hear the music from outside anyway. Just find somewhere to sit and wait until the music festival ends. Don't be so selfish." I listen to the long, monotonous beep after he hangs up on me for a moment before calling my lead singer brother right away.