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Randy said. I snorted and reclined on the bed. "I don't know why my main readership is male, and they've requested me to write harem. But if one of the female leads were me, I'd report the male lead for bigamy!" Randy chuckled, "Skr, ruthless!" Having spent significant time with Randy, his delayed graduation had its merits. He stumbled upon my forgotten novels, and his favorite happened to be the one I wrote years ago. The sky, previously murky, suddenly turned pitch black as heavy clouds loomed. The shelter's lights had long ceased to function.

HAVE FUN READING AND DON'T FORGET TO VOTE AND FOLLOW THIS ACCOUNT FOR MORE MIND BLOWING NOVELS. Yours Dearly, Successful W.

Our families were friends, so we became friends by default, attended the same school, and rented an apartment off campus together where we hosted parties, to my dismay and very obvious disapproval and to Eve's unswayed determination. The only difference between us is that while I settled for working in my dad's firm, Eve decided to open her publishing business against her parents' protest. The girl got balls, and it is a good thing she did it because her business is one of the best, they have the most scandalous tabloids on celebrities and have a knack for turning any event they want into a story worth reading. "Too bad it is to be wasted on this wedding." I sigh out loud as I face the mirro

Ria noticed and leaned down, sucking one into her mouth through the thin fabric, then pulling the top aside to lick and nibble directly on the stiff peak. She finger-fucked me harder and faster, her fingers plunging deep and curling with every deep stroke while her palm ground against my clit. Juices coated her hand and dripped down my ass as I writhed beneath her. In my mind, it wasn’t Ria’s fingers stretching me…it was Mr. Collins’ thick, experienced cock burying itself inside my virgin pussy for the first time, stretching me and claiming me.

On New Year’s Eve, Kian Newman never came home. Instead, he had someone deliver a container of frozen ravioli and sent me a single message: "Stay safe this year." I had barely locked the screen when a photo popped up in the company group chat. Isabel Wilkinson, Kian's assistant, had posted it. It was a lavish holiday dinner spread across the table, every dish clearly homemade. The caption read: "Someone spent all day cooking so I could have a taste of home. Love you."

She would usually do it herself but now that she wasn't here, Anthony felt lost. He decided to distract himself from thinking about her by watching some TV, but it got boring real soon. "Mr. DeMarco, sorry to bother you again." It was the housekeeper again. Anthony looked at her. "You are not bothering me. Is there something wrong?" he asked. "No sir, nothing is wrong. I just found this book lying on the ground. I figured it could be something important, so I thought I would give this to you," she said and handed him a red leather-bound book that looked like a journal.

This story is entirely fictional. All places, names, characters, and settings of the novel are entirely fictional. They are in no way tied to real world events, or ongoing situations, besieged by the current society, although similarities can occur from time to time, during reading. By reading this novel, you do not hold the author responsible.

The first novel I read was by Louisa May Alcott; Little Woman, and then moved on to other feminist novels such as Handmaid's Tale and Pride and Prejudice—the book I'm holding right now. Well, I shouldn't be going around the library looking for a novel I like because what I'm supposed to be doing is taking care of a crazy bastard named Rhysand del Millero, who's on the phone. But I don't want to do that. I'd rather buy time with the books in front of me until the helicopter he's waiting for comes over to the bullshit he started. Damn, I hate this situation. I hate being stuck with a domineering, powerful man who loves to be heard more than to hear, and hates that I can't do anything.

He hands me the book and I look it over before opening it. “I think this will be of some help to you, I can help you with focus and direction.” I look at a few pages of the book, it has detailed accounts and explanations on how to fulfil different ‘desires’. It shows intricate symbols, circles and some of the symbols look like they are glowing. “What language is this?” Zylith asks and I look up at her. “What do you mean, it’s English.” Sure some of the words were difficult and new but Zylith was far from dull.

I come right out not too long after and slip on the nightdress I had earlier pulled out. My eyes catch the my bag in the corner and a thought creeps into my mind. I quickly move to the door, quickly locking it. I'd really hate to be caught right now. I take up the bag and empty its contents on my bed. My eyes widen in shock as I recognize it. The Novel. The one I had wished to be sent to. How did it get here? I have to hide it. I don't even know why, but I get a very strong gut feeling to do so.