Self Defense Novels & Stories

“You want an explanation? Fine. I’m going to teach you how to defend yourself. You’re too damn stubborn not to get into trouble again, and I’m not always going to be there to save your ass. Now move.” My lips part in shock. Out of all the things I expected him to say, that wasn’t one of them. “You... you want to teach me to fight?” “Yes,” he says, his voice impatient. “Self-defense. Basic shit. If anyone ever tries to touch you again, you’ll know what to do.”

“I didn’t. He showed up here lookin’ for a fight. I gave him one.” “You should’ve walked away.” “I didn’t do a damn thing that was outta line. I’d do it exactly the same way if I had to do it over again.” “Is that macho cowboy bullshit supposed to impress me?” “No, it was supposed to protect you. I was just defendin’ myself, and you, and what’s mine.” “I don’t need you to defend me.” “You really think you would’ve stood a chance at keepin’ that guy under wraps if he’d’ve come after you? Were you gonna try to reason with him?”

"I don't blame you for feeling that way. But no matter how much I hate you, I could never be a murderer. It's not in my nature, unlike you." Deangelo moved closer, his dark eye boring into her. "The first rule of self-defense is awareness. You have to be aware of your surroundings and potential threats. Don't just attack someone unless you see them as a danger." He advised. But Rosita found herself utterly distracted, unable to focus on his words as her gaze kept drifting to the attractive area of his broad chest. The memory of their passionate kiss flashed in her mind and how big his cock felt between her legs. "Focus!" Deangelo barked, snapping her back to reality.

“He didn’t deserve to live, not after what he did—breaking in, threatening Vivian, Aiden, you. You acted in self-defense, to save us. If he’s gone, that’s on him, not you. You did what you had to do.” His words were a fragile thread of reassurance, but doubt gnawed at me, my heart racing, my tears falling as I nodded, my voice trembling. “Self-defense,” I said, my words soft, my hands clenching, my eyes flicking to Marcus, my fear a weight I couldn’t shake.

Her voice is steady when she speaks, but I can hear the underlying tremor that means she's fighting to keep control. Is something wrong? "That's not—I mean, self-defense exists for a reason," she says, her words carefully measured. "If someone is trying to kill you, or hurt you, and you defend yourself, that's not the same as murder. You're not the aggressor. You're trying to survive." There's my girl. The thought hits me out of nowhere, fierce and possessive and completely inappropriate given that she won't even look at me. But watching her argue for something she clearly believes in, seeing that fire spark back to life in her eyes...

she offered innocently. He tilted his head and looked at her intently. "Won't the cops lock you away?" he questioned. She winked at him. "Self-defense is not a crime in this state unless he is dead" she recited the law, which caught him by surprise. "Why? It will still be a difficult task. It would take months to pull your life back from that. If you tell them my name, then you can walk away freely. Why do you want to suffer? You are nuts" he muttered.

Kelly’s safety depended on it. “Where do you think you’re going?” one of them sneered, stepping closer. I took a deep breath, trying to focus myself. My training lessons kicked in. I had to defend myself. My life depended on it. One of the men lunged at me, his hand reaching for my arm. I sidestepped quickly, bringing my elbow up to strike his face. My elbow connected with his nose, and he stumbled back with blood streaming from his nostrils. "Fuck" he screamed.

"No. If you kill someone who's holding you captive in self-defense, the Norvanian government might even reward you for it." "Seriously?" Mila breathed a sigh of relief. "In Norvania, it's legal to defend yourself against intruders in your home." Mila helped Phoebe stand up and whispered, "So, that means I can defend myself against all these people." Phoebe clutched her stomach in pain and nervously eyed the door as she asked, "Mila, how many bullets do you have left?" "Just one," Mila replied. "We're in big trouble, then."

So did the memory of the shifter whose wolf I’d silenced, the note under the door warning me about old bloodlines, and the way Ronan Vale had looked at me like he could see every unprotected edge I still had. By the time the lunch crowd thinned I was done pretending awareness and a sharp tongue were enough. I found Theo during my break. He took one look at my face and poured the coffee without asking. “You’re planning something,” he said. “I need to learn how to fight.” He set the cup down slowly. “Okay. Define fight.” “Self-defense. Real self-defense. Not the basic stuff they teach in community centers for people who want to feel safer walking to their car. Something that works if a shifter

Self-defense is not just a set of techniques; it’s a state of mind, and it begins with the belief that YOU are worth defending. – Rorion Gracie Shelby thought that Neo was an idiot. Not with business. He was good with business. And he knew how to keep his clients and employees happy. They had never made it that far, but she was certain that he knew how to keep a woman happy. And this is why she thought that he was an idiot.