Scary Cat Novels & Stories

"Violà, listen to me," "No, hear me out Vivianna." Mason cut Valentino off, earning a glare from him. "Violà," Valentino started again. "Ugh I sometimes hate how I don't have a nickname for you." Mason mumbled under his breath. "Just can you both shut up? I am so overwhelmed with everything going on right now. On my one side, is none other than my babys' daddy, whom I used to love maybe still do. I don't know. And on the other hand is - sorry for being blunt, but literally my stalker. Who has been obsessed with me since I was a... well child?" "Well when you put it like that-" "You are the motherfucking stalker?" Valentino took a threatening step towards Mason. "Hey, I know you are involved in mafia and all but I know karate alright? I am a yellow belt... well a pink one but for some reason they made me wear the yellow belt again in my second year. The point is don't underestimate me." "Shut up, you both." I yelled. "But I was just saying-" I gave Mason a warning look, he sighed but still turned to Valentino. "Yellow belt. Remember!" *** A heavily pregnant, Vivianna Violet left her soon to be husband three years ago. She has always been possessive over her baby. She has ppd and thinks anything or anyone would take her baby away. But that wasn't the only reason she left Valentino. Valentino Ivan Morte is the most feared man in the country. He is a cruel, scary and demanding mafia don! He suddenly finds a tip that the love of his life is in New York and decides to stay to find her. Mason Logan is Vivianna's colleague. But he wasn't just that because he always changes work place when she does.

Leah is back on the family farm in Mozambique, where she meets doctor Sergio Martinez whom she immediately feels attracted to. But Leah is certainly not happy to see that her ex-husband Ralph is also back here. Apparently to complete the dream eco-holiday destination he originally planned, when they were married to each other. What is really uncomfortable is the fact that he wants her back as his wife. He still wants to make a baby with her! Leah acquired a little bit of money after selling her grandmother's house in Pretoria. And Ralph knows about it. He is a dangerous man if he believes there is money somewhere that he can get his hands on. But for some or another reason, Ralph Jameson suddenly has money of his own as well. Did he inherit it from the much older deceased woman he briefly married, after divorcing Leah? Or did he steal it from her while she was still alive? Sergio Martinez is happy with the card life dealt him. He is a veterinarian working for an international company dealing with the relocation and breeding of wild animals for National Parks all over Africa. The lion project, wildlife sanctuary and hospital for injured animals is on a farm neighboring Hurters Retreat. He rents a flat from John Hurter, as he got himself a pet now, an African Wild cat. Gato needs to be kept away from the vet's patients and other threats in the bush. Hurters Retreat felt like a safe haven for his cat and his heart. But suddenly he is not that sure anymore. Why does it feel as if Leah was the woman he waited for all his life. And why did her ex-husband follow her there? Is this the day trouble started in his paradise?

Outside the police tape surrounding a fancy hotel, a police officer can be seen blocking my way. "There seems to be a bomb hidden in the hotel! Unauthorized personnel are not allowed to get any closer!" I'm just about to dig out my work badge when the intern next to me, Christine Wyatt, covers her mouth in a pretentiously shocked manner. "Officer, there's a detonator and a timer in his bag! Those things look so scary!" The entire scene goes eerily silent. Almost immediately, I see a few guns getting aimed at my forehead. Anxiety begins overwhelming me. "I'm a bomb disposal expert from the Headquarters Explosive Ordnance Disposal Unit! My bag contains all the tools necessary to dispose of a bomb!" "Throw your bag over to me and keep your hands where I can see them!" Captain Scott Hunter roars at me. My bag is opened afterward. Things like an insulated cutter, a bomb suppression blanket, and a liquid nitrogen cooling tank are scattered across the ground. Before I can explain myself, Christine suddenly points at me while screaming, "Why are you still playing dumb? You just told me that you wanted to set off an explosion in that hotel! "What, now that the police are here, you dare not admit what you just said, huh? You're a terrorist through and through!" Scott reacts quickly by pinning me on the hood of the police cruiser with my hands folded behind my back. "We're taking you back for a thorough interrogation!" My heart almost stops at those words. The bomb that's packed with enough firepower to take out half a street has already gone on a countdown in the hotel lobby. But I, the only bomb disposal expert who can get rid of the bomb, have handcuffs put on me because of Christine's nonsensical accusations. Right now, there are only 29 minutes left before the bomb goes off.

So here's the thing about being adopted by a junkie sex worker: you learn real fast that nobody's coming to save you, and the world doesn't give a shit about your potential. I got out and got a scholarship to some fancy boarding school where rich kids pretend they're better than you because their parents bought their way in instead of fucking their way through. Silvercrest Academy; prestigious, elite and completely fucking weird. Like, weird enough that my roommate has fangs and my lab partner's eyes glow in the dark and the three hottest guys on campus won't leave me alone for reasons I can't figure out. Dante—the golden boy who looks at me like I'm a problem he's trying to solve. Jax—the TA who tried to intimidate me until I put him on his ass, and now he follows me around like an angry cat that hasn't decided if it wants to be pet or bite me. Elias—the too-pretty rich boy who asks too many questions and looks at me like I'm the answer to something he's not saying out loud. I thought I was here to study genetics, turns out I'm the genetics. Aether bloodline that is believed to be ancient and extinct except apparently not, because I'm standing here with gold in my hair that won't dye out and an allergy to silver that makes no sense and power I don't know how to use sitting under my skin like a loaded gun. Someone's trying to kill me for it and through it all, three wolves telling me I'm their mate—which would be flattering if I wasn't too busy trying not to die to figure out what the fuck that means.

Quin went from watching her roommates make out to partaking in all forms of forbidden and dark sex because she just wants to get laid. Her hand gripped the doorknob so tightly her knuckles turned white. Quin knew she should leave. She should back out into the hallway and pretend she had forgotten her key, anything to erase the image of Mara’s head thrown back in ecstasy, her mouth open in a silent scream as Jade’s tongue worked her over or the sight of Marcus’s rod. But her feet were rooted to the spot. A heat, unfamiliar and intense, bloomed in her lower belly. She had read about this, but seeing it, the wet, slick sounds of Jade’s mouth, and the way Mara’s fingers clawed at the sheets and the way Marcus dick stood erect, was something else entirely. Then, Mara’s eyes snapped open. They locked onto Quin standing in the doorway. There was no shame in that gaze, only a dark, heavy-lidded amusement. "Well, well," Mara gasped, her voice breathless and ragged. She didn't push Jade away; instead, she tangled a hand in the brunette's dark hair, pressing her face harder against her cunt. "Look what the cat dragged in." "Quin," Jade purred, crawling up Mara’s body to nuzzle at her neck. "We were just talking about you. wondering if you’d ever get that stick out of your ass and join the real world." she glanced at Marcus too who nodded his head. Quin’s heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. "I... didn't mean to interrupt. I'll go." Ohhh, she didn’t go, she joined in and got initiated into dark sex.

Within the circle, everyone knew I had been Leo’s most devoted, submissive admirer. For thirteen years, I chased him relentlessly, transforming myself from an uneducated, middle-school-dropout, illegitimate child of a wealthy family into an Ivy League economics master’s graduate. Only then did his mother finally acknowledge me, and I became Mrs. Smith. However, after the wedding, I no longer meddled in Leo’s company, cooked, or served him. While he stayed up late planning strategies for his first love, I traveled the world with friends. He would accompany her to Paris fashion shows, and I celebrated my cat’s birthday at home. I understood that a commercial marriage could never produce love. Everything I had poured my heart into was just my own foolish obsession. In my past life, I handled his company’s internal conflicts for him. Yet, he frowned, scolding, “You’re reaching too far.” I cooked soups for his stomach ailments, only to see him hand them off to his overworked first love, brushing it off, “She works harder than I do.” Even on the day I had a car accident, he lit fireworks across the city just to see her smile. I begged him, but he looked down at me from above. “Nicole, what we have is only a transaction.” Then, I opened my eyes and found myself back at our engagement banquet, watching him leave midway to comfort his heartbroken first love. This time, I did not chase after him. Instead, I picked up the microphone and said before all the guests. “Sorry, everyone. My engagement with Leo is canceled.”

I took a shortcut through the alley and watched Dante Marchetti put a bullet in a man like it was nothing. He saw my face. That was the end of my normal life. Within an hour I was in the back of his car being driven to an estate I had never seen before with gates that locked from the outside and a wardrobe full of clothes in my exact size waiting like someone had known I was coming before I did. He told me I wasn't a prisoner but a guest. He said people who wanted to find me were considerably worse than him and that his walls were the only thing standing between me and a conversation I wouldn't survive. Maybe he was right. The problem is the longer I stayed the harder it became to remember which one was true. Because the man who caught me in that alley wasn't the only version of him. There was another one that nobody else seemed to get to see. The one who stood alone in his dead mother's library looking tired in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. The one who had my cat brought to the estate because he heard me crying through a closed door and didn't know what else to do about it. The one who almost smiled when I threw a glass at his head. That version of him was the one I couldn't stop thinking about. I came here as a witness. I stayed as something else entirely. Somewhere between the locked doors, the candlelit dinners and the secrets we started sharing in the dark I stopped wanting to leave. The question was whether a woman like me could survive loving a man like him. I was about to find out.

“Accept it! You cannot fucking run away from me. You can NEVER escape me. It would be better for you if you just accept that your fate is with ME. You are mine!” Emma shut her eyes, sobbing quietly beneath him. She knew she could never escape him; she knew he would never let her go. But that wouldn’t stop her from trying. She swallowed her fear and looked back at him with tearful, defiant eyes. “I-I’m not yours! I can never be yours. I am just a maid who works in your house. Y-you have no right to claim me like this,” she fired back. It didn’t shock Alexander. It amused him. His fiery cat was finally baring her claws. “You are mine, Emma,” he murmured, his voice dark and absolute. “You were mine the moment I laid my eyes on you. You were mine when you opened that door for me. You were mine when I saved you from the guy at the party who almost ruined you… You are mine, and you will always be mine.” She heard the sharp sound of his belt unbuckling, her eyes widening in panic. She pushed him as hard as she could, but nothing could stop a monster from claiming what belonged to him. ___ Alexander King is a ruthless, powerful billionaire who doesn’t know how to love—he only knows how to possess. Trapped under his lustful eyes, Emma is pulled into a dark, controlling world. He will break every rule and burn the world down to keep her. But what happens when the cage is made of overwhelming desire, and the monster refuses to let go?

“You’ve come to kill me detective?” He whispered against her skin as he gently grasped her arm and turned her to him. Jude swallowed a gulp and looked up at him. His eyes were a cobalt shade of blue behind the mask, daring, cold and terrifying. “And you’ve come to me to be killed?” She replied in a hushed tone, gathering a lot of nerve and taking a step closer to him. Detective Jude Laurent should arrest Cassien, the deadly Maestro who now controls The Black Rose syndicate. Instead, she finds herself drawn into a dangerous game of cat and mouse, risking everything to uncover the truth about the organization that has haunted her since childhood. The same organization she believes holds the answers to her parents’ death in what everyone called a tragic house fire. But Jude has no idea she’s been walking straight into a trap years in the making. The real mastermind behind The Black Rose has been watching her every move, orchestrating her pain from the shadows. Someone who shaped her into the perfect weapon for revenge. And they’ve been waiting for this moment since the night her world burned. Now, as Jude hunts the man who’s becoming her obsession, and Cassien finds himself equally captivated by the detective who should be his enemy, neither realizes they’re both pawns in a much deadlier game. Because the person who destroyed Jude’s world isn’t the criminal she’s chasing. It’s someone far closer than she could ever imagine. And their final move is about to destroy everything she’s ever believed about her past, her purpose, and the man she can’t stop wanting. Some obsessions are worth dying for. Others are designed to kill you.

My sister-in-law sent me a photo of her kissing my husband on the beach. Just a few minutes later, she deleted the photo and sent me a text saying, “Oops, sent to the wrong person. Lol.” I knew it was deliberate. It was never a mistake. She wanted me to see how happy my husband was with her. Clara was never my sister-in-law. Three years ago, my husband had lied about her, claiming she was his younger sister, and I believed him. But after five years of marriage, I discovered—far too late—that Clara was never his sister. She was his mistress, his childhood lover, the woman he had been sleeping with under the same roof as me while making me serve her as if she were truly my sister-in-law. And now what? He had lied again… said he was going on a business trip. Yet Clara had just sent me a picture—a cute, sickening picture—of my husband happily kissing the very woman he had once claimed was his younger sister. The photo carried a timestamp showing the exact time and location. It was real. There was no denying it. They were in Hawaii, on a beach, laughing, kissing, and having the time of their lives… while he had made me believe he was away on business. Without saying a word, I saved the picture and posted it straight to Instagram, captioning it: "Congratulations to my sister-in-law… on finally becoming the official wife.” Then I turned off my phone and went to bed. The next morning, after having breakfast with my cat, Lulu, and taking the warmest bath ever, I turned my phone back on—and froze. Over 200 missed calls were waiting for me. Notifications exploded across my phone. And it didn’t stop there—the number of unattended messages kept climbing past 250.