Proper Table Manners Novels & Stories

My sister was the golden child, the pride of our family, but she had a rare blood disorder that required treatments costing thousands every month. To keep her alive, I became her personal blood donor, working nonstop to pay for her care and delivering food all day and night. But one day, she nearly died from hemorrhaging after trying to abort a pregnancy. That’s when I learned the child she was carrying belonged to my boyfriend. When I confronted him, he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he dragged me to the operating table himself. “You were born to be her blood bank. Dying for her? It’s the best thing you’ll ever do.” I was left there, bleeding out, my life slipping away with every drop. But as death closed in, something changed. The people who once hoped I’d disappear—the ones who used me, betrayed me—they all began to unravel, losing their insanity.

At the annual company banquet, the boss had the tables and chairs from the logistics department removed, leaving only a stainless steel dog bowl in the center of the stage. "Logistics is just the company's watchdog," he said coldly. "Since when do watchdogs sit at the table and eat?" The top sales champion laughed as he dumped leftovers into the bowl. The boss casually slipped a black garbage bag over my shoulders. "From now on, you're the company's living trash can. Catch it properly." Laughter erupted across the room. Amid the jeers, I silently tightened my grip on the universal access card in my hand. What they didn't know was that the building's special approvals for water and electricity—and all its property management connections—were maintained by this very "dog face" of mine. I tossed my ID badge into the dog bowl and turned to leave. Let's see how long you last once the new year passes—without logistics there to hold everything together.

After secretly registering our marriage, my lawyer husband, Benedict White, proposed holding a public wedding ceremony every time he gained favor with his lover, Anna Lester. Over three years, Benedict asked me thirty-three times and broke thirty-three promises. The first time, Anna’s dog died. He said we had to mourn for three months to honor it. I stood in a wedding dress and apologized endlessly to the friends and relatives seated below the stage. The second time, Anna had menstrual pain. He turned around on the way and went to care for her. After that, every ceremony he promised came with a new problem from Anna. I cried. I protested. Yet Benedict always said, “She's just a friend with benefits. You’re my wife. Don’t be so petty about it.” After the thirty-third time, I finally grew tired. I slid a divorce agreement across the table in front of him. “Let’s get this over with.”

“On your fours, now.” The Cold voice of my new Master, the ruthless and dreadful Alpha of the Red Moon Pack, brought cold shivers down my spine. Shivering, I quickly climbed on the bed. Tears circulated in my eyes, and gradually dropped in my cheeks. Of course, he doesn't care how I'm feeling. I was going to lose my virginity to a dreaded Alpha, who sees me only as his breeder and his slave. Once I give the Alpha a child, I'll be killed! * My name is Daphne Knight. I'm 22 years old, orphaned, wolf-less omega, and a breeder because I was sold by my very own father to the terrifying Alpha for money and power. “You're nothing but a breeder to me.” He growled cruelly at me. If I don't give him a pup, I'd be killed, and if I give him a pup, I'd be killed too. All I am is just the Alpha's Breeder. But what if the table turns?

She cannot escape him. On a blind-date, she unknowingly meets the most dangerous man to exist, and falls into his world of darkness and desire as both his mate, and his worst enemy. *** I rest both my hands against the table. "I'll go on another date with you, if you tell me one thing about yourself that no one else knows." He’s silent for a long moment, pondering my offer. Eventually he quirks his fingers at me. "Lean closer." Bracing myself against the table, I lean over it toward him, noting every detail about his face as I get closer. Every hair, every freckle. His beautiful is unimaginable. His breath warms my skin, dancing over my ear as I dip my head toward him. Will he kiss me, and make good on my sinful thoughts? His voice is like an erotic caress as he murmurs in my ear, "I'm a murderer."

I've been married to Elliot Graves, the mafia drug lord in NYC, for the past eight years. But today—on our wedding anniversary—I received a photo of him with my best friend, Lila, celebrating as if they were the ones married. And in her arms was my son, Owen. I stared at the image, then typed out two words in reply. “How perfect.” Half a hour later, Elliot stormed through the front door. His voice thundered through the hallway. “Why do you always have to be so bitchy to Lila?” Owen, my own little boy, shoved at my leg and glared. “Bad Momma,” he said. “I wish Miss Lila was my real mommy.” I didn’t flinch. I simply walked over to the drawer, pulled out the crisp stack of papers I’d long prepared, and dropped them on the table with a quiet finality. “Alright,” I said, my voice calm. “It’s all my fault. Now, can I go?”

Marie’s mum is dying, and her only bet at survival is an expensive surgery that they could never afford. Driven by desperation, she seeks her step mother’s help, a brothel owner who gives her the condition of sleeping with an old rich client of hers. Disgusted and unable to do so, Marie finds solace in a city bar and unexpectedly finds herself talking to a stranger. Their conversation is easy, and somehow they manage to get drunk and have a steamy night together. When Marie wakes up to leave in shame and quiet, she sees his expensive golden Rolex wristwatch on the side table and makes a quick and risky decision then and there. Eight years later, on her first day of work at Prime Telecoms, she bumps into the stranger from her one-night stand years ago. Not only is he the CEO of the company, he is also the father of her daughter, and the man she stole worth hundreds of thousands of dollars from. And now, he won't let her go.

New book: Alpha's moonborn mate is OUT now. Read it today:) _____ (Book #2. Protected by the bully: OUT NOW. Read it on Goodnovel.) . Whenever she'd be asked about a thing in life that disgusted her the most, she would fume in anger and answer, "That bad bully !" Shouting loudly, she would point at the round big corner table in the school canteen where he would sit with his bully gang. ****** Valentine, was adopted by doctor Jason Pereira, of Dark Shine pack, an elder doctor who looked after the warriors and soldiers of the pack Alpha Hercules best buddy. Ryley Shine, was the son of Alpha Hercules and going to be alpha, and the bad bully who loved to bully the wolves studying in the school, to be precise her... He hated her sight, her eyes, her smile, her heart beats, her tears... Everything about her just because she was his mate, A HUMAN NAIVE NERDY MATE! Genre: Vampire/Werewolf + Romance + Teen fiction.*Not fully edited! It's under editing at the moment.*

“I don't want anything to do with her, I would rather marry her mother than marry her.” Manny felt insulted. Angry, she slammed her fist on the table, picked up the papers that needed signing and then tore them into pieces. ***** Manny, a lady with a perfect life and heiress to Millicent's fashion house, is constantly pressured by her mother to get married and have a baby. But haunted by the heartbreaks of her past relationships, she makes a bold decision to undergo IVF. What happens when she discovers that there has been a mix-up and now she's carrying the child of Andrew Cooper, an arrogant billionaire with a reputation as formidable as his wealth and who won't let her keep her baby? Will she win this baby war? Andrew Cooper, billionaire and CEO of a multi-billion dollar company hires a surrogate but everything spirals into chaos and now a fat lady carries his child. He is determined to collect the child from her even if it means digging up her past

Three months after Pete took his foster sister as his mistress, I terminated my marriage, chose to die on paper, and vanished from his life entirely. One quiet morning, I handed my child over to the nannies arranged by the family and walked out of the Rizzuto estate alone. Pete didn’t chase after me that day. He believed I would come back. Once I had calmed down, I would lower my head. The following spring, I was diagnosed with cancer. Standing in the hospital corridor, I suddenly remembered years ago— Pete had taken my hand and said, “You’ll be the finest Donna this Rizzuto family has ever had.” What pulled me back was not Pete. It was a letter from Sicily. Thin paper. Cold, rigid handwriting—the kind favored by old families who had ruled too long to bother with sentiment. “The heir has begun showing signs of emotional instability.” “Recent violent behavior has caused internal concern.” “There is disagreement within the family regarding the current Don’s judgment.” In the mafia world, there is only one reason the elders would bypass a man and reach out to a wife officially presumed dead— When the family itself begins to lose balance. So I returned. To the place I had once fled with everything I had. This time, there were no illusions. I no longer placed any hope in emotion. I was there only to fulfill the obligations of the family. I knew exactly how much time I had left. And I knew exactly what needed to be done. I became a proper Donna.