Sadness Tone Novels & Stories

“The beautiful world embraces you” is a story that is not too dramatic and full of drama. It is simply a love story between two very honest characters. Chan Phong -is a boy who cares deeply about his childhood friend, but an incident occurs that makes him entangled in plots and hatred. An Thu - a girl with a pitiful situation, always living in sadness, she only has a friend, Chan Phong, who has been with her to overcome all childhood sorrows, suddenly when the family separates, it's time. Her best friend left her. With the same pain and hatred, they finally met again at the age of 18, in a new environment but did not recognize each other, hurting each other. Through many trials, will they find each other again? Their love may not be the prettiest, but it is certainly the truest. Trials do not make our love worse but make us stronger and better.

He was consumed by hate, while love ripped through me like a storm. We were like two thorns, trapped in a prickly embrace with no escape. We exchanged vows soaked in blood, sealed with a brutal kiss, and bound by bloodied rings, with no happily ever after on the horizon. Marco Costello, my so-called prince, shackled me as his wife, but he was no savior. I used to imagine what our life would have been like if I had said yes all those years ago instead of running away. I'd play Juliette to his brooding Romeo. But fate had a different script for me, casting me as the antagonist, trapped in a cycle of resentment and sadness, like a lost soul wandering through the shadows, unseen and unappreciated. “Till death do us part...” It wasn't a promise of forever, but a sentence to endless torment.

A week before the wedding, I got in a car crash. The baby was gone. They said my uterus was removed—just like that, motherhood erased. Grief hollowed me out. I was barely holding on when Jack's voice cut through the room, loud on speaker. "Jack, you put her on a birth control implant and lied about the surgery? That's messed up." His tone turned cold. "I can't let my child with Mary be seen as illegitimate. This is the only way to give him my name. As for Stella, I'll make it up to her for the rest of my life."

I was vacationing in St. Moritz, Switzerland with my mother when Vivian from the Valenti family office sent me a photo. The woman in it lay on the cold marble floor of the estate, her coat stripped away, her body covered in blood. No one stood near her, as if she had already been set aside like a problem to be dealt with. It was hard to tell if she was still breathing. A voice message followed, her tone sharp and controlled. “Elena, don’t assume that marrying the Don and being called Donna means your small-town family can step onto Valenti property.” “The lakeside estate Mr. Valenti just acquired is a family asset. Letting someone like your mother stay there breaks rules.” “I act on the Don’s behalf. It is my responsibility to remove people who should not be there.” “This is what happens when someone crosses a line.” I went still. Then I looked up at my mother sitting across from me. She held her tea, calm as ever. I lowered my eyes and enlarged the photo. The moment I saw the woman’s face, my chest tightened. It was not my mother. It was Luca’s. I called Vivian immediately. “Have you lost your mind? That’s Luca’s mother.” She gave a light laugh, her tone cool and distant. “Mr. Valenti has always been clear. Your mother is yours. His mother is his.” “The Valenti family does not take in outsiders.” “You may be Donna, but that does not mean your family steps inside with you.”

"I'm gay." My eyes grow so big as I stop breathing, but two seconds later I'm bursting with laughter. "Okay funny," I finally tone down my laugh as I bring myself to look at him again. But he is still staring at me like he had been when he told me that joke. "Wait," uhh, "Really?" He nods, "Really." "You like... guys?" "I fuck guys." Oh wow, you really can't have it all can you. When he checks all the boxes, suddenly there's this big box he doesn't. The most important box, the top on the list. "You're gay or bi?" Because there's a big difference between those two. "I'm gay." "You never fuck a woman?" "I've never fucked a woman." "Then why the hell would you want me to be your sugar baby? To watch you fuck another man's butthole?" He smirks despite my little mockery. "Oh now it's funny?" "It is," he is still smirking, "But no. It's the opposite of what I wanna do." I bring my arms across my chest as I reply in my all-business tone, "Enlighten me." *** 22 year old Estelle is one of the best sugar babies the agency has ever had. She has the whole package, no dick ever gone soft seeing how perfect she is, both her body and personality. But can she sway Owen into the heterosexual group? After being in that homo-pool all this while?

I was in San Aria Bay with my mom, enjoying a quiet, sunlit getaway, when my phone suddenly lit up with a string of messages from my husband's ever-arrogant secretary. She sent a photo. The woman in it had been stripped naked, her body covered in blood, the sight almost unbearable. A voice message followed, her tone dripping with disdain. "Jeannie, do people like you always take advantage of others like this? "Mr. Smith just bought this house, and you already had your mother move in for free? As his chief secretary, it's my responsibility to remove anyone living off him."

We all know a Viola, we've all met a Viola, we might even be one. Viola is a woman in her early twenties with absolutely no reason to keep living. She wants to die, so she tries to, sadly for her, she doesn't. Now, she is standing in the ashes of who she used to be with no idea who she should be. Viola will break your heart, but only the best stories do. She is consumed by a loss that is as deep as the ocean, pain that knows no bound, extreme anxiety and chronic paranoia, trauma that is skin deep, sadness that always return, depression that never leaves and how agonizing a friendship-breakup can be. This is a book about Love, the love that lives between you, love that is hard to find, harder to understand, the love we were born with, waiting patiently between our ribcages, waiting to be recognized, to be seen, the love we should have for ourselves, the love that does not fade.

I died beneath the Ferris wheel. The killer took a photo of the Ferris wheel and sent it to my mother. 'Mom, I want to ride the Ferris wheel with you too,' wrote the killer. In my mother's voice message, her tone was filled with hatred as she replied, "How dare you ask to ride the Ferris wheel with me when you killed your own sister? Why won't you just die?!" As she wished, I was dead. However, what she didn't know was that the one who killed me was my so-called dead sister.

Rubbing his stubble-clad jaw, he stared directly into her fearful eyes. “Remember what you said that night.” He breathed against her lips. Her mind recalled that dark night which lead her to this sinful situation. A tear rolled down from one of her eye and her lip quivered as she tightly gripped the bed sheet. “See, I got you exactly where I want you… that is underneath me.” Saying in his dangerous tone, he lifts her one leg and positioned himself. With a forceful thrust he enters inside and she screams out in pain.

My new next-door neighbour was a total hottie. He fixed my plumbing and brought over baked goods, basically the perfect gentleman. However, I could see a bright red stat hanging over his head. Malice Level: 1,111 It could only mean he was out to get me. One night, he snapped my stalker’s wrist, and red digits reset to zero. Somehow, his murder meter turned into a pink possessiveness score of 9,999+. He wiped the blood off his hand, his tone eerily gentle. “Who gave you the right to touch my prey?”